Seven addresses for Good Friday

John Madeley

Seven addresses on “God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him, should not perish but have eternal life”.
(St John 3:16).
Good Friday, 9th April 2004 St Peter’s Church, Caversham,

“From the sixth hour until the ninth hour, darkness came over the whole land”, says the gospel of St Matthew. We now commemorate these 3 hours, the God who died for us. The nature of God is seen in the verse from John (3:16): “God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him, should not perish but have eternal life”. In the next 3 hours we shall explore this verse, sitting at the cross, looking it and what it means for us today. The silences, which will each be of about 3 minutes, provide an opportunity to reflect on something we have heard, or just to be still in God’s presence.

So let us pray: Lord we pray that you will touch us today at a deep level, as we prepare for a fresh encounter with you, the source of life. Help us to hold ourselves in your love and be open to your Holy Spirit. This we ask in Jesus name, amen.

Hymn no 5 in the supplement

First address
“God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him, should not perish but have eternal life”.

God: Archbishop William Temple once said: “the aim of religion is to transfer the centre of interest from self to God”. So, who is, what is God, the God who so loves the world? When you think of God, what image immediately comes to mind? Is it of a father figure, either up there or out there, a spiritual director, friend, a God who goes before you, hearing your requests, forgiving your sins, loving you deeply, a rock, on whom your life is based, whose will you try, by his grace, to do.

We all have images of God which may, or may not be close to how God wants us to see him. But, just possibly, our image of God has become too fixed, and maybe, misplaced and needs to change. We can all too easily create God in our own image. Voltaire was once asked if he believed that God had created man in his own image. After some thought he replied “what I am quite certain of, is that man has created God in his own image”. Or. as George Bernard Shaw put it, “God created man in his own image, and man decided to return the compliment”.

Our concept of God is the central issue, says Bishop John Taylor, everything depends on who God really is. And understanding goes deeper than words, for God transcends words. “His greatness no one can fathom”, says the Psalmist (145:3) “The God we think we know”, says Jesuit priest Gerard Hughes, “cannot be the true God”, because God is greater than our power to understand”.

We recognise this, but nonetheless do have something to go on. Above all, that God for Christians is one God in three persons - Father, Son and Holy Spirit. If, when we think of God, we think only of the Father, that is a one-third picture of God. And a faulty apprehension of God, writes John Taylor, “has fundamental consequences for the way we live. It affects the way we project Christianity. Yet in much popular Christianity”, he goes on, “God has been obscured and distorted beyond all recognition. We must allow God to turn afresh to us, allow the only true God to look into our eyes and melt our hearts”. (Wood p.185)

Can we let God do that, can you put to one side your traditional image of God, and be open to a new and a deeper understanding of God on this Good Friday?

What is the human face of God like? It is like Jesus. Jesus said: “if you have seen me, you have seen the Father”. Paul tells the Colossians, “in Jesus, the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily” (2:9) Jesus is the “image of the invisible God”, says Paul, (1:15).

Bishop John Austin Baker writes: “the crucified Jesus is the only accurate picture of God the world has ever seen”. Whatever else God is like, God is Christlike. So when we ask what God is like, we ask - what is Christ like? What is Jesus, God the Son, like, the Jesus who suffered on the cross and rose again? If we want to know something of what God is like, we read in the Gospels what Jesus is like, what He did.

We know from the Gospels that God is love, suffering love, and that Jesus helps to make God known to us. The cross tells us that God shares our suffering. “Where is God”, people sometimes ask, “when people are suffering; where is God when a disaster happens?”. God is in the midst of the suffering, God is with those who suffer. God is our comforter.

God the Father created us, God the Son shows us the way to live, and God the Holy Spirit is with us, every step of the way, at work, in prayer. When we have difficulties with prayer, when God seems far away, ask the Holy Spirit to pray in you, and through you, “to besiege your heart”, writes a French priest Pierre Guilbert. God is with us and wants us to be with him, to listen to him, through prayer, in worship. The silences in this service are as important as any other part of the service; in the silence, be still and know that God is with you.

Something else we know about God, says Brother Roger of Taizé, is clear through the gospels, that God is with us, “that God wants happiness for us”. “I have told you all this”, Jesus said to his disciples, “so that my joy might be in you, and that your joy might be complete”. Joy, in the midst of turmoil perhaps. Peace, which cannot be taken away, no matter what. Sometimes we don’t feel joyful or peaceful. Bishop Richard Harries writes: “whenever we are feeling dejected or rebellious, his joy dwells within us, covered over but there, treasure beyond all price, to be had for the asking. All we need to claim the treasure” he goes on, “is to turn to the one who never left us. No one can take that treasure, that joy of Christ, from us, not even we ourselves”.

Something else we know about God is that God is vulnerable. God gives us all a free will. If we chose to exercise that will in a way that is damaging for others, and for ourselves, God does not stop us. He gives us freedom, to choose the right or the wrong path. If we choose the wrong path, it will grieve God’s heart, but he does not stop us. God does not act like some giant policeman in the sky, stopping us going down a particular road. God died on the cross 2000 years because people decided he should die. They exercised their free will. God did not stop them.

God gives us a free will but that does not mean that He abandons us, far from it. God’s guides us to use that free will in accordance with his will for us. He is there with us in our lives, in our struggles. “He is active in every detail of our lives”, says Gerard Hughes.

God knows us, says the Psalmist. ”O Lord you have searched me and known me...you are acquainted with all my ways...even before a word is one my tongue you know it completely, you hem me in...and lay your hand upon me...if I settle at the farthest limits of the sea, your right hand will hold me fast”. (from Psalm 139)

You hem me in. But not hemming in, in the sense that God restricts our free will, but hemming in, in the sense that God is always with us, always inviting us to choose the right path. He holds us fast, as in an embrace, but he leaves it to us whether we accept his embrace. We don't know how God is present, we believe he is there. As Paul Oestreicher writes “God is mysteriously present within the wholeness and the brokenness of our being”.

The world is not God’s puppet theatre. “History is the wise and the unwise” says Oestreicher, “the moral and the immoral record of how we direct our wills. God somehow is within that process, in our successes, our failures”. God is vulnerable to our choices, his nature is to be power-less.

But how does a God who is vulnerable square with the Almighty God that we often refer to in our services? We begin the Holy Communion service by praying: “Almighty God, unto whom all hearts be open, all desires known, and from who no secrets are hidden”. “Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory”, Jesus taught us to pray. In the Magnificat we say: God “has put down the mighty from their seat”. Only the almighty could do that.

God is our creator, the source of our life, our rock, our guide. God is Almighty, yes, but look at the crucifix behind me, it tells us how God exercises that might - through suffering, through vulnerability, through powerless-ness. Might, hanging on a cross. Might exercised through love, through service to others. “We worship a God,“ says Bishop Frank Weston, ”whose powerless-ness brought about our salvation”.

St Luke reminds us of something else about God, that he identifies with the suffering, with the oppressed. He is a God who comes “to let the oppressed go free”, in Luke’s words. (4:18). God is not neutral between the oppressed and the oppressor. He cares for the souls of both, but comes to bring good news to the powerless, the poor. “Woe to you rich” he says, by contrast, woe to you who are full now” (Luke 6, 24-25). The story of Dives and Lazarus is a clear warning to those who are rich by world standards. Dives fared well every day. Lazarus lived in poverty, but was comforted when he died. Dives was condemned, because he did not do anything abut the plight of Lazarus. Is there any hope for us? Yes, if we act on the warning in that story. ‘The rich”, says George Carey, “must throw themselves on God’s mercy, and use their possessions for the good or others, as well as for themselves”. (p. 123)

God trusts us, to speak and act for him, he wants to live where we live, wants to work where we work, wants to be God in and through us. Quite a responsibility. And if we sincerely try to do that, says Gerard Hughes, “we are very likely to be hated, driven out, abused, denounced”. Jesus, he points out, warns us about this in the Sermon on the Mount. Gerard Hughes cites for example Israeli soldiers who refuse to fight in Palestine, even though they can be court-marshalled.

For many, being hated, denounced will be more subtle. We do well to heed Paul’s warning: “woe to you if all speak well of you”. This seems to stand human nature on its head: we want people to think well of us. A deeper grasp of God may help us to see that there are more important things than people speaking well of us, and that if God is going to have a chance with us, then our lives will witness to values which the world does not always share. And we will not be thanked for it.

What is God like? A God of all life, not just of the Church, who pervades and permeates all things, all circumstance and is the living Spirit at the heart of all that exists. A God who created us, and who is forever creator, who passes our understanding, who cannot be limited to the confines of the human brain, a God who died on the cross, who is risen, who brings us new life, and so tells us that God is a God of the new. Charles Elliot, a former director of Christian Aid, says: the resurrection reveals that we have a “God who will not be beaten, a God who ushers in something new”.

Those words from the Book of Revelation: “Behold I am making all things new” are the words of the sovereign Lord, God’s assurance to us. Can we let our understanding of God be forever widening, so that God is doing something new in us; so that the new is being created.

Let us pray

Second address
God so loved

Love - one of the most beautiful words in the English language, a word that’s another name for God, as St John tells us: “God is love” . God loves us so much that died for us on a cross; this is the ultimate sign of God’s love for humanity.

Love is a word that describes God’s care for us, describes a special relationship between people, and between people and God. But it’s also one of the most abused words, a word used in a thousand commercials, for example, to sell us a new soap powder, a new range of furniture whatever. “You’ll just love our new product”, we’re told. Well, hope so; certainly didn’t think much of the old one.

“Love, love changes everything, Love can turn your world around”, wrote Andrew Lloyd Webber, and he’s right. Gerard Hughes says: “love can take us out of ourselves, it can break us free from our self-imprisonment, energise us and change our perception of reality, which now seems to have acquired an inner luminosity”. Our very self is changed by love, he goes on, “for I begin to see the beloved as me, and myself as the beloved, each giving life, one to another, but without possessiveness”. In human love, we glimpse God. And where there is self-less love, God is there.

For God is love, and he gives us the capacity of love. God created us not just with cold, rational minds, but with strong and passionate emotions. As Methodist minister Jenny Impey puts it: “God rejoices when we find love; holds us when our hearts are broken or when we cannot find the love we desire; and longs for us to respond to his unconditional and overwhelming love”.    The Bible is a love story from beginning to end. It tells of a God who loves us and who longs for us to respond to that love, by giving ourselves to him and to one another.

Paul writes to the Corinthians about love - that love is patent, kind, it does not envy, does not boast, is not proud, not rude, not self-seeking, not easily angered, keeps no score of wrongs, it always trusts, always hopes, always preservers. He goes on to say, that the greatest of faith, hope and love, is love. In poetic language, Paul exhorts the Corinthians to be “knit together as a community through love” (1 Cor. 13-14). St Augustine advised: “Love God and do what you will”. If we truly love God, what we do will be in accordance with his will for us.

Love, love changes everything, yes, but to the Christian there is more, a lot more. For it is belief in the love of God that changes everything., the belief that love has its origin in God and that human love is a reflection of the divine love.

God loves us first, and we are empowered to love God and to love others, because of that love. The command of Jesus to love our enemies, forces us to think of them always as human beings, “however depraved or evil their intentions”, points out Thought for the Day contributor, Colin Morris. “Our love for God is measured by how much we love those we love least in this world. That’s a daunting test of faith”.

Love is truly the ideological cornerstone of Christianity. “You shall love the Lord your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength”, Jesus tells us, “and your neighbour as yourself. There is no commandment greater then these”. God invites us to give our love, our life to him and for the service of others. Loving God gives a deep meaning to our lives, uniting people across religions. The lovers of God have no religion but God alone, said a 13 century poet, Mowlana Rumi.

Love comes to us from God in so many ways. We see it in the faces of those we love. We see it in the faces of young children; some of you, like me, have grandchildren. Grandchildren - Baptist minister Tony Campolo calls them God’s gift for not killing your own children! Children are so often reflectors of God’s love. They seem at times to have the eyes of God, they seize the opportunity for love which adults can miss. |

Writing recently in the Tablet newspaper, Dominic Milroy, a Monk at Ampleforth in Yorkshire, tells of being on a tube from Kings X to Victoria on a grey day in London, a few days before Christmas. “Like most others, I kept myself apart”, he writes, “avoiding eye contact, looking at the adverts etc. When the train stopped at Euston, my eye was caught by a splash of colour at the far end of the carriage. Two very large balloons, one red, one blue, floated above the heads of new entrants to the train - It was a black family, very well dressed, with twin sons aged about 10, who were clearly delighted with their balloons which were special Christmas balloons, with polished wooden sticks and gold knobs at the top.

At the next stop. the silence was shattered by the arrival, right next to me, of a fair-haired little girl of about 7, who was screaming as she clutched her father’s jacket. She was a Down’s Syndrome child. There was nothing anyone could do to comfort her and everyone was simply trying to pretend that she wasn’t there. | Everyone, that is, except the boy with the red balloon. First I noticed him standing on tiptoe, with a look of concern as he tried to identify the source of the tears. Then he disappeared, but the red balloon started making a hesitant journey down the carriage, held aloft above the heads of the crowd.

As we reached Oxford Circus, and the doors opened, the little black boy appeared next to me and stood in front of the girl. As more people struggled into the carriage, he handed the balloon to her and said in a loud voice - and these were the fist words uttered in the carriage since Kings X - “Hello. This is for you, Happy Christmas. Goodbye”. Then he disappeared back into the crowd.

The effect was instantaneous, electric and cumulative. Everyone heard the words and turned to look at what was happening. The little girl stopped crying, clutched her balloon and showed it to her father, to me and to all her neighbours. That was what we had suddenly become - neighbours. By the time we reached the mainline station at Victoria, we were wishing each other Happy Christmas, and almost exchanging addresses.

It seemed astonishing at the time, he goes on that one small gesture could change everyone’s grim and silent alienation into the sudden warmth of community. The carriage had been invaded by a sense of celebration and had the glow of a small cathedral. People were looking at each other, making jokes about the weather, and basking in the radiance of the little girl’s laughter”.

Love, love changes everything. The love shown by that 10 year old boy changed everything in that carriage. One, apparently small gesture, had an enormous effect. But that is what love is like, like a tiny seed, growing, shooting up all the time. It was God’s act of love on the cross that changes everything in our world, for it show us what love is like, it give us the grace to reach out to others and to seize the opportunity to love others..

Writing in a book called ’Spiritual Journey”, George Carey tells of a pilgrimage that he made in 1992 to the Taizé community in Burgundy, with a thousand young people from all over Britain. “On one of the information sheets I was given on arrival at Taizé”, he says, “I found these words - you have come to Taizé to find meaning to your life. One of Christ’s secrets is that he loved you first. Therein lies the meaning of your life - to be loved forever, to be clothed by God’s forgiveness and trust. In this way you will be able to take the risk of giving your life”. As Bishop-elect of Reading, Stephen Cottrell puts it: “Our view of ourselves is transformed because we discover we are loved by God”.

"And so we know and rely on the love God has for us," says St John. And this word rely, is so significant. To the Christian, it is relying on, believing in, trusting in the love of God that changes everything. that gives us the grace, to love others in the way that Paul tells us love is like.

"Let us love one another because love comes from God", says John’s gospel. Those who do not love their brothers and sisters do not love God. As God’s love for us is constant, so love for others has to be likewise. “Above all”, says the first letter of Peter, “maintain constant love for one another because love covers a multitude of sins”, (4:8).

“When we realise God’s unconditional love for us”, says Jenny Impey, “it enables us to do the impossible, helps us time and again to hope in the face of unfulfilled desires, to love in the midst of the pain of difficult relationships”, to forgive because we're forgiven, to love because we are loved, to hope because God is with us and for us.

”Father, forgive them”, cried Jesus. Forgive, don’t harbour grudges, love one another, It is through love that we can encourage and bring out the best in each other.

Belief in the love of God, relying on that love, enables us to find meaning to life and to take the risk of giving our lives. For it is belief in a God who never leaves us, goes on loving us, even though times, especially in times, when our love for him is little evident. And he loves each one of us, he died for each one of us, as if we were the only person to love. God held nothing back, because God is love, he gave all on the Cross.

A small girl had an argument with her mother. It got quite heated and the girl eventually stalked away with the parting shot: “I don’t love you any more”. The mother waited for a while and then went over to her daughter and holding her hands like this, said, “do you love me a little bit, that much perhaps”. “No”, said the girl, :I don’t love you that much”. “Well do you love me that much”, asked the mother, holding out her hands just a small way. “No”, said the girl, “I don’t even love you that much.”

Well, the mother pretended to be very downcast and there was silence for a time. And then, suddenly, the girl, with one of those dramatic changes of mind characteristic of small children, concerned that she had upset her mother, rushed up to her, flung her arms wide apart, and cried: ”Mummy, I love you, that much”. God doesn’t love us that much, he doesn’t love us that much, he loves us that much.

Let us pray

Third address
God so loved the world

God so loved the world, I once read on a poster, | that he didn’t send a committee. Now, that’s what I call love. God became man for the world he loved. This verse tell us that it was the world that God loved, it was not only people who loved him, it was the world, people who reject him, have no time for him, who are carried away in themselves - all are included in the vast, inclusive love of God. People may turn away from God, may say they don’t believe in him, but God never ceases in believe in them.

God loves the world that he created - and what a diverse world it is. A world with many thousands of different tribes, nationalities and languages. In some countries in Africa it’s not uncommon for over 250 languages to be spoken, in one country. A world teaming with numerous kinds oif life.

God’s love for all is seen many times in the Gospels. We see, for example, the love that Jesus showed for the Samaritans. The Jews and Samaritans did not get on with each other. But Jesus challenges his people the Jews by showing the Samaritans in a good light. Thus it was a Samaritan who tended the man who lay wounded by the side of the road after the priest and the lawyer had passed by on other side, it was a woman from Samaria who Jesus asked for a drink, and revealedto her that he was the Messiah. And when 10 men with leprosy were healed, as recorded in Luke’s gospel (17:12-19), the one, the only one, who came back to say thank you, was a Samaritan.

It was if Jesus was telling the Jewish people to see that the Samaritans are human too. He is getting us to recognise that we are all members of God’s family, all part of the global neighbourhood.   Today this neighbourhood is more closely connected than ever before, and yet more deeply divided than before.

God created a world of breathtaking beauty for all to enjoy and to care for That beauty is all around us. If you have not looked at this book on my left, do take time to look at some of these splendid images of creation. God ‘s created order is a gift, to sustain and promote life. “All your works echo the silent music of your praise” as a communion service prayer puts it.

Gerard Hughes says that “at the Final Judgement, God will ask us one single question - Did you enjoy my creation?'   Enjoyment of God's creation is right and proper. And yet, what we’ve done to creation is not a pretty sight. We have torn down tropical forests for short-term gain. I have stood on a ruined forest in the Philippines which had been axed and turned into chopsticks, for use perhaps 2 or 3 times and then discarded. I’ve stood on the coast of Senegal in west Africa and watched local fishermen come back with little in their boats, because the nearby ocean seas have been so over-fished by industrial trawlers. with their vacuum cleaner technology, there wasn't much left.. And, perhaps worst of all in some ways, the way we live is contributing to the world becoming a warmer place, and that hits hardest at the poor.

Global warming is not a distant threat, it’s happening now. Thousands have already died and millions more made homeless due to the increase in erratic weather, notably floods and droughts. The Red Cross tells there are now four times the number of disasters each year than in the 1960s, It is no longer appropriate to call them natural disasters, they are very much human-made disasters, and certainly not 'acts of God'. Calling them natural can divert attention away from the reasons for disasters - which is chiefly our heavy use of fossil fuels.       Global warming is estimated to be responsible for a million extra cases of malaria a year according to the World Health Organisation; and at least 150,000 people are dying needlessly each year as a result.

Human-induced global warming affects the very stability of the world that God created. Sir Ghillian Prance, former director of Kew Gardens, said recently, “ I believe that global warming and the climate change it is causing, is the greatest threat to the environmental stability of the world...we are heading for a massive wave of extinction, comparable to the one that wiped out the dinosaurs. I believe we have no right”, he goes on, “to destroy the species that God has give us to enjoy and to use”.

Do you remember those Gilbert and Elice islands? The Elice islands, now called Tuvalu, may not be with us much longer; it’s predicted to be the first country that will be submerged as warmer weather melts the ice caps and sea levels rise. And Kirabati (Kirabas), the Gilbert Islands, may not be far behind. And the islanders turned into refugees. This is the world that God loves, and we are systemically destroying it.

The psalmist speaks of “rivers turning into a desert, flowing streams into thirsty ground and fruitful land into a salty waste because of the wickedness of those who live there”. (Ps. 107, 33-34) And an unknown source says this: “Only when the last tree has died, the last river poisoned and the last fish caught, will we realise we cannot eat money”.

With global warming comes drier weather in some areas and the real possibly of increased water shortages. Already for many people, shortage of water is a killer. Every 15 seconds, United Nations agencies tell us, a child dies because of a shortage of fresh water, that’s 240 an hour, nearly 6000 a day, twice as many, every day, as died in the terrorist attack on September 11th 2001, And yet while priority goes to combating terror, what priority does the world give to ensuring fresh water for children?   In some African countries the word for water is also the word for life. Water is a cradle of life, a miracle of nature, neither people nor plants can live without it, but millions are living with too little of it.

The world that God died to save is again a seriously divided world, divided deeply into rich and poor, and with the divisions growing every year, with the globalisation we are told is inevitable often leaving the livelihoods of the weakest members of the global society in ruins. Across the developing world today traditional coping mechanisms are breaking down in many poorer communities. And the world that God died to save is a world where violence seems to be growing, where millions are under constant threat, but where no one is any longer safe. Again, why does tackling the root causes of poverty and injustice, alienation and unrest, seem to have such low priority..

Archbishop Rowan Williams, in a book called “Writing in the Dust” written soon after September 11, a day when he happened to be in a church only two blocks away from the World Trade Centre in New York, says this: “Many of those who shared something of the experience of Sept. 11, found themselves made aware that they were experiencing briefly what is the daily experience of people in other parts of the world, living under the threat of bombardment and random death”.

Millions live also with hunger and drudgery as a daily reality. Some years ago I visited Mali in Africa to see an agricultural project. Late one afternoon I was in a village where a woman was pulling water very laboriously from a deep well. Her face looked drained, shattered, and I stood there, notebook in hand, wanting to talk with her and yet wondering if it was appropriate. The woman read my hesitation and said: “don't talk to me. I’m too tired”.

But then, was it surprising? The woman had probably been up since dawn, she may have walked miles for firewood before getting off her children to school. It would then be into fields for the backbreaking work of weeding, hoeing and watering crops. In the afternoon she may well have spent several hours pounding millet for the family's meal that evening. After hauling up water and perhaps a 16-day she would drop into bed exhausted. It went on, day after day. No wonder she was tired. Did she have a chance to enjoy creation? How long would she live to enjoy it with that kind of punishing load?

Did you enjoy my creation? Not so easy to answer yes, if life for you is short, mean and nasty. Not so easy for the many millions who struggle to keep body and soul together, to keep their children alive, who are weighed down with poverty and disease. Not so easy then to wonder at creation.

The harsh question for us, living as we do in the Western world which uses far more than its share of the world’s resources, is - are we taking too much, and so denying others the opportunity of enjoying creation? Should we be content with less, and be the stewards of God’s creation that matches the need of the day? The close connections in our global neighbourhood means that in the world that God loves, many of the things that we do, can affect others. We can point to bigger culprits, perhaps, but, in Britain, we burn more than our share of the world’s fossil fuels that run our cars, our heating systems. etc.

The proper use of resources, of money, to enjoy creation is of course right, but our use needs to be kept under constant review least we fall into the trap of selfishness and worse, being corrupted and trapped by the very money that allows economic freedom.

If people who have wealth keep it for ourselves, rather than sharing it with the poor, how does God's love dwell in them? 'If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need, how can the love of God be in him?' asks Paul in his first letter to Timothy.

“The faces of the innocent, of poor people across the earth”, says Brother Roger of Taize, “question us: how can we share hope with those who are so deprived of it?”     Are there signs of hope? In all the bad news, the potential for change into something better is enormous. During the last two or three years especially, I’ve been struck with the way that people all over the world are standing up and protesting - things do not have to be like this, and they are developing alternative ways. There is hope.

Stuart Barnes, the Abbot of Burford Priory, spoke at the Westminster Abbey Day of Prayer this year of how he senses that the pendulum “is swinging towards an appreciation of the inclusive nature of the God’s society, where we think of the good of all people and not just of ourselves, when we think for people who live on the other side of the world, with whom we are inextricably linked”.

Things can be changed, but only if we change. Renewals and revolutions start from one tiny seed, says Bishop John Taylor, “the staggering thought - things don’t have to be like this. When that idea begins to trickle down into structures and into the minds of ordinary people”, he says, then change can happen.

One tiny seed. If we’re willing to be seeds, then God can further the work of loving the world, the people of his world. Turn away, and the work is blocked.

Let us pray

Fourth address
God So Loved the world that He gave.

He gave of himself on the Cross, the supreme example of costly, unselfish giving. Sacrificial giving, motivated by love. God did not give what was comfortable. His giving meant pain, tears and suffering.

God's giving was generous. He gave lavishly. His gift was more than enough. He gave all. No one can look at the Cross and accuse God of being stingy or reluctant to give. God's gift is priceless. Most gifts can be purchased or earned. If someone doesn't give us something, we can perhaps save for it and buy it. Not this one. And therefore God’s gift to us is truly a unique gift. And God's giving was directed to our specific needs, including the need for forgiveness of our sins.

God, our creator, gives us the gift of life. “Begin to see yourself as gift”, urges Rowan Williams, “love it, as a gift from God’s hands”.

What do we give to Him? Whatever we give, it first came from God. Money, property, whatever we have, comes from God. “Our gift is God’s - to God”, writes Dag Hammarskjoeld. When we give, we are giving God what is his, what is due to him. “And of your own do we give you” we sometimes say when making our offerings.

Our giving is therefore a response to God’s giving. After his dream about the ladder up to heaven, Jacob vowed that he would give back to God one tenth, a tithe, of all that God had given to him. What Jacob vowed to give was a thank-offering to God for the way God had provided for him, (Genesis 28:22).

And the title became the norm of the church. One tenth of everything that grew on the land belonged to God, not to the farmer. From the earliest times, God’s people gave of their wealth, first because they recognised it as an obligation, a duty of obedience to God, and also in order to express their gratitude for what God had first given to them.

So our motive for giving is not to curry favour with God, not to impress Him, not because it’s the law, like paying our taxes, or because we’re badgered. No, Christians give, first and foremost, out of gratitude as a response to God’s own giving of Himself on the Cross.

We give, because God first gave to us. With what measure you give, says Jesus, so it will be given to you. “Give and it will be given to you”, he urges, “a good measure pressed down, shaken together and running over will be poured into your lap”, (Luke 6:38).

The more we put God first, we more we more we give and the more we know his generosity. “It is better to give alms than to lay up gold”, says the writer of the book of Tobit. “For almsgiving saves from death and purges away every sin. Those who give alms will enjoy a full life', (Tobit 12:8-10).

Giving can bring fullness to others. Bishop Peter Nott, formerly a priest in this diocese, who took this service some 25 or more years ago, tells more recently of something that happened to him at Taizé:

“I was standing outside the church”, he says “when a young man detached himself from a group that was leaving Taizé, and ran to me smiling broadly. He was a priest, dressed in a black shirt. He was thin and gaunt, his shirt frayed at the collar and the cuffs, his trousers baggy and greatly patched, his shoes old and cracked. He was clearly a poor man. He walked up to me, smiled, and grasping my hand, kissed my bishop’s ring, which is a customary sign of loyalty and love in some churches.

I had no idea what nationality he was, or whether he spoke English. so I pointed to myself and said ‘English’. Ah, he smiled and pointing to himself said, ‘Ukraine, from Ukraine’. Then he said; ‘I have a present for you’. From his pocket, he brought a wooden egg, beautifully hand painted. He pressed it into my hand and smiling once more ran to join his fellow pilgrims on the coach.

I walked into the church and held the egg throughout the Eucharist and felt very close to that young man. I was deeply moved that this young priest from a poor and troubled country had given a gift to a bishop from a rich church and a rich country. There was nothing I could give him in return. I had no time to thank him properly and I don’t suppose we shall ever meet again until we meet in heaven. And then perhaps I will be able to tell him that his gift, his little kindness, is something I will remember to the end of my life. and that his painted egg, which is in my chapel where I see it every day, is one of the most precious gifts I have ever received”. |

| “I have ever received”. This reminds us that receiving, in the right way, is part of giving, it’s the giving of ourselves to the giver. To receive, to accept a gift, is to value the person who is offering us the gift. Indeed to be in a position to give, is to be in control - over resources, over decisions. When we receive, we recognise that someone else has a say over decisions.

We give aid to African people, but do we recognise that Africans have so much to give us, their openness, their spontaneity, if only we are prepared to receive as well as to give. “We feel more comfortable”, says Stephen Cottrell, “being the ones who are able to give rather than the ones forced to receive”.

Some years ago the receiving of a gift gave me a powerful lesson. I’d spent the morning looking at a project on a small farm in Cameroon in west Africa. As we were about to leave, the farmer came up to me holding upside down by their legs a squawking chicken in each hand. “These are for you”, he said. I was thrown. How could I tell him that facilities for squawking chickens in my modest hotel bedroom were not terribly good, and. that I was flying home 3 days later and really did not fancy going through customs carrying two squawking birds? It would certainly have given a new meaning to hand luggage.

As I stood there, desperately trying to think of a polite way of declining, a project official came up to me and whispered in my ear, in a voice you do not disobey - “you’ve got to take them. He will be very offended if you don’t”. | I took them. | The chickens, sensing they were now in the hands of a total amateur, squawked all the more. Holding the birds, I staggered into the project vehicle and it was now my turn to squawk, to the official “what am I supposed to do with them?” “Don’t worry, you can give them to me if you like; they can run around my garden”. I was deeply grateful for the offer.

It was not until years later that I could see something of a parable in what had happened that day. Whatever you're given - give on, otherwise, it will only squawk or worse, decay, in your hands. Don't become attached to the gifts you are given, rather share them.

A young man who worked with Save the Children in India last year said: “I have realised that whenever you give to others you receive so much more in return than you could have ever imagined”.

“All that I have is yours”, said the father to the elder son. Likewise, all that we have is God’s. We brought nothing into the world, and it’s quite certain we shall take nothing with us when we go. Giving 10% of our money is fine, but God doesn’t want 10% of our lives, he wants us to give all, our time, the talents he’s given us, and to use them in his service, caring for people, about injustices around us in whatever way God calls us. Giving, not becoming attached, is something precious that God calls us to do. “Sadness”, writes Dutch pastor Henri Nouwen “is the result of attachment”.

“What can I give him poor as I am”, we ask in a lovely hymn, “if I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb. If I were a wise man I would do my part, what can I give him, give my heart”. “None of you can become my disciples”, warned Jesus, “if you do not give up all your possessions”, (Luke 14:33) |

The words give and forgive are closely related. “Father forgive them”, cried Jesus from the Cross. He taught his disciples to pray “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us”. Forgiveness is a theme than runs deep in scripture. Forgiveness of debt, of money owed, can be part of that. Forgive us our debts, says one version of the Lord’s prayer, “as we forgive our debtors”. More often it is deeds that need to be forgiven.

God forgives us a great deal. He calls on us to forgive those who wrong us. “How may times shall I forgive my neighbour”, asked Peter of Jesus, “seven times?” “No”, said Jesus, “not seven times, but seventy times seven”. In other words, indefinitely, all the time and do so generously. Forgive people, not their sins, only God can do that. We leave judgement to God. Forgiving others is an attitude. “Forgiveness is not as occasional act”, writes Martin Luther King “but a permanent attitude”, one that can be acquired by the grace of God.

And again we have to be willing to receive forgiveness, to leave the past behind. “Forgiveness from Jesus”, writes C. S. Lewis, “is like having a tape recording of your life wiped clean”.

Forgiveness is a healer, something that unites. If we fail to forgive those who wrong us, then a wall is erected. Lack of forgiveness creates division, and the divisions can tragically go on for years. And yet how can we ask God to forgive us our sins, if we do not, in our hearts, forgive those who sin against us. Jesus gives us a stark warning: “if you do not forgive people, your father will not forgive your sins”. (Matthew: 6:15)

Just over a year ago, there was a report on television about a 3 year old girl who had died in a London hospital after mistakenly being given laughing gas instead of oxygen. As the doctors and the family emerged from the coroner’s court, a reporter asked the girl’s father how he felt about the doctor who was responsible. You would not have been surprised to hear angry demands for revenge and reparation. Instead the father simply went over to the distressed consultant, put his arms around him, and said “I forgive you”. |

“I forgive you”. How many tensions could be defused, how many conflicts defused, how many lives could have been saved if people could say those words, put the past behind, and start afresh. The slaughter of over three quarters of a million people in Rwanda, 10 years ago, happened because of a failure to forgive those who had shot down the country’s leader. “Father forgive them, they know not what they do”, cried Jesus from the cross. When we do not forgive, we do not know what we are doing, we do not realise the consequences of not forgiving, the tragic divisions, the bitterness that rumble on when there is a failure to forgive. Above all, if we do not forgive we do not give the love that God gives to us.

Let us pray

Fifth address
God So Loved the world that He gave his only Son Jesus Christ.

Who was Jesus?
Who is Jesus?
Why did he have to die an agonising death on the Cross?
What have we done to him?
What does he expect of us?

Who was Jesus? He was born in a stable, yet he was a very special baby - the shepherds, the angels, the magi, all bore witness to that. He became a refugee when Mary and Joseph fled to Egypt. During his ministry he said that he had no place to lay his head; he said also that his Father’s house has many rooms.

When he was 12, he sat at the feet of the rabbis to learn more of the scriptures. He was a carpenter, but, he was also a recognised scholar and teacher. At the very start of his ministry, at the age of 30, Jesus went to the synagogue and was invited to read and to comment on the scripture.  And that was significant, because each synagogue had an attendant who kept the scrolls and who was free to read the lessons himself or to invite a visiting scholar to read and comment on the text. That morning Jesus was given the nod. That means the community recognised him as a scholar.

He was a rebel. In the synagogue that first day, they invited him to read and comment, but they didn’t like what he said, and tried to kill him there and then, by chasing him over a cliff. He was a rebel throughout. He challenged the authorities, broke the rules, offended people. He made grave allegations against Church leaders, called them hypocrites, said they are full of greed and wickedness, that they neglect justice and the love of God, and He threatened to bring them down from their thrones, (Luke 11).

We can barely imagine how all this went down. Colin Morris says that Jesus preached a message so revolutionary as to make the followers of Karl Marx look like bowler-hatted reactionaries. And, above all, Jesus gave us a new commandment - love one another, love other people as much as yourself, want for others what you want for yourself.

Jesus was God, but he was also a man. “If we lose sight of that”, says Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “we turn him into an inaccessible figure”. In the Garden of Gethsemane, when he realised the cross lay ahead, Jesus prayed earnestly: “Father if it be possible, let this cup pass from me”. As a man, he felt the pain of the cross, even to the extent to thinking that his Father had deserted him.

“God has come among us”, writes John Taylor, ”as fellow being and fellow sufferer”. And he was a man who was intensely alive, wide open to the Father, wide open to people’s needs.

That’s enough of the past tense. Who is Jesus? He is intensely alive. He is God, the Son. “I and the Father are one”, he says. Jesus is fully God, and fully human. He shares the emotions of people around him. He rejoices with us, he weeps with us, the way he wept when his friend Lazarus died. He responds to need in the way he responded to the hungry on the hillside 2000 years ago, and in the way he healed the sick. But he needs our cooperation.

Who is Jesus? He is our Lord - the Lord of our lives if we will recognise him as such. For me, one of the most beautiful windows in this church is the centre window in the Lady Chapel. Look carefully at the word near the foot on it, “Lord”. Sit there sometime when you have the chance, and quietly reflect what it means that Jesus is Lord.

Paul told the Romans: “Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved, (10:13). This tells us that Jesus is our Saviour. he shows us the way to live, he saves us from sinful ways, if, once more, we will recognise him as Saviour. As Paul told the Galatians: “Jesus gave himself to rescue us, (to save us), from the present evil age”. (1:4) |

Why did Jesus have to die such an agonising death on the Cross?   Why, as God cares for us deeply, why could not Jesus have died in a more peaceful way? In one way, it wasn’t necessary for him to die on the Cross for the resurrection to happen. He could have died at a normal age and still have been raised 3 days later.   Why the cross?

Jesus warned his disciples of what was coming, that he must suffer many things, “be killed, and on the third day be raised to life”, (Luke 9:22). He speaks of the suffering that is coming as a necessity. St Luke records three times, Jesus telling his disciples that he must go to the Cross, (9:22, 17:25 and 24:7). The cross was a necessary part of his ministry. He knew the scriptures. he sensed that Isaiah’s vision of a suffering Messiah was to be fulfilled in him.

Why the cross? It comes down to that tiny, but so important word - all. God can only give us all his love. Nothing else, all, without limits, all. Jesus died on the cross because the cross was the supreme expression of love, the giving of all.

Brother Roger of Taizé writes: “without experiencing pain in his own body, Jesus would not have been to the extreme point of forgiveness”. From the cross, Jesus tells us he will go on loving, go on forgiving; he’s telling us, in the words of Stephen Cottrell: “I will love you.....and you will learn to love me in return”.

Why the cross? Because in the words of Tom Wright, Bishop of Durham, “the cross is the surest, truest and deepest window on the very heart and character of the loving, living God”.

Why the cross? Because, says Stephen Cottrell, ”Jesus cries out in thirst, the misery and anguish of what he is going through are not just his, they resonate with every human cry and with all human suffering. Whenever we hear the cry of pain in the world, whenever someone cries out thirsty for water, afflicted with grief, we discover that God is thirsting too”. |

No, Jesus could not have died in bed at an advanced age, surrounded by friends and family, having had the last rites and a final cup of...whatever. Without the cross, would Christians down the centuries have borne suffering the way they have, would they have stood firm for the message of the God of love? Without the inspiration of God giving all on the cross, would Christians be inspired to give all in return?    The cross inspires us to love others, it shows us the wisdom of God. The giving of all.

But what have we done to him? Or, to express that differently, what have we done to him? What have we done to the God who died for us on the cross, who shows us a new way to live? Well, what would you do if Jesus knocked at your door this afternoon.   Ring the Rector?   But if Jesus says “I want to stay with you?” You’d welcome him, and invite friends round to meet him.

Gerard Hughes picks up the story. “Now take a leap of two weeks in your imagination”, he suggests, “Jesus is still staying with you and you’ve told him to make himself at home. And Jesus has invited his own friends to your house. Who were his friends in the Gospels, what kind of people were they and what did respectable religious people say about them? Who’s coming along your road now, what’s happening to the curtains in the house opposite, and what’s happening to local property values? How are things in your own family, with your own friends? None too good.

“So you ponder the question - what am I to do with Jesus? You know you can’t ask him to leave, for he is the Lord of all creation. “Perhaps”, says Gerard Hughes, “you could look around the house carefully, find a suitable cupboard, clear it out, clean it up, decorate it, sparing no expense, and have good strong locks put on the door. You then invite Jesus to step inside, turn the lock on him, put flowers and a candle in front of the cupboard door, and, every time you pass, you bow deeply. You now have Jesus in your house, and he doesn’t interfere with you any more”, (God in All Things, p 9-11).

Bizarre? I don’t think so. Rather, a pretty good image of what we have done with God? We lock him away, hold splendid services, sing his praises, give him thanks, but keep the real message that he brings out of the way. |

Paul Oestreicher, in a book called “The Double Cross”, puts the question more starkly. Have we double-crossed the God who died for us on the Cross?, he asks. Have we tamed him and lost the meaning of what he came to earth for? | Can the cross be rescued, he wonders?         Yes, but only by acknowledging what God us trying to do through us. That question I asked a few minutes ago - what would you do if Jesus knocked at your door today, that is not a hypothetical question.

Jesus is knocking at the door of all of us today. But, he doesn’t just want to dwell in our house for a week or two, he wants to stay with us all the time. Paul, writing to the Colossians, talks of “the mystery of God’s word. But the mystery is revealed. For the secret is: Christ in you - yes. Christ in you”, he goes on “bringing the hope of all the glorious things to come”. (1:7). To this end, says Paul, ”I am working with all his energy which so powerfully works within me” (1:29) It’s an energy which God with us provides.

Christ in you, as unworthy as we are, that’s the measure of what he wants to be, the measure of the trust he places in us. And if “Christ in you” sounds daunting, it shouldn't be. For what does Jesus expect of us? To welcome him, trust him, not to worry, not to be fearful. “More than anything else,” says John Taylor, “Jesus says - do not be afraid”.

As Jesus gave all, so he teaches us to give all, to give all in love, to love God and one another, and he tells us that we cannot love him if we do not love the poor. He tells us also: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself, take up this cross and follow me”, (Luke 9:23). This instruction about giving all, occurs six times in Luke’s gospel and is there is all four gospels. This is the measure of its importance. Biblical commentator, Wilf Wilkinson calls it “one of the great spiritual truths” And the irony is that in letting go, in losing all, “we find ourselves”, we find our real lives, he find the true purpose of our lives. In losing all, we gain all. Those who lose their life find it.

What does he expect of us? “I, if I be lifted up, will draw all people to myself”, said Jesus (John 12:32) Lift him up, by being committed to him. “I will never be happy”, writes Henri Nouwen, “unless I am totally, unconditionally, committed to him”.

Jesus was, he is, totally, unconditionally, committed to us. By his grace, he invites us to be so to him.

Let us pray.

Sixth address
God So Loved the world that He gave his only Son that whoever believes in him.

Belief - how it governs our lives. Richard Wilson, the actor, made his name with the catch phrase, “I don't believe it”. But when we do believe in someone or some cause, then something powerful happens. We then give that person, that cause, our full support. “You know, I believe in you”, you might say to someone, and you’re right behind them, every step of the way.

You may believe in a football team, and you go to the ground every week, or whenever you can, and cheer them on. And win or lose, you still believe in them. You see an advertisement for an investment. You check it out, you talk to people, do your homework and at the end of the day, you may say: ”I believe in that product. I’ll invest some money with it”.

Believing too easily is seen as a hallmark of gullibility. “Oh, he would believe anything” can sometimes be heard, in a dismissive way.

If we’re wise, we believe when it’s credible. And belief is tested on the anvil of experience. If someone you believe in causes you to question whether your belief was justified, if your investment goes astray, for example, then belief is re-examined. Mind you, if it’s a football team, it takes a lot to shake your belief.

But, on the basis of experience I suppose, we no longer seem to have the automatic belief in government, media, scientists, companies, that perhaps we once had. But, again on the basis of experience, we do generally believe in our doctors, our dentists, our clergy.

To believe in someone, is to trust someone. “I believe in God” we start off the creed by saying. We trust in God. There used to be a sign hanging in shops in New York that read: “In God we trust, all others pay cash”. Humorous, but profound it seems to me. We trust in God, but, for mortals, we rightly want to see the colour of their money, to discern whether we can believe in them and trust them.

In the first chapter of John’s gospel, we read: “to all who believe in his name, he, Jesus, gives the right to become children of God”, (1:12). This is the difference that belief makes.   And Jesus said a lot about belief. “Repent and believe the good news”, he says, at the very start of his ministry. (Mark 1:15b) To the ruler of the synagogue, “Don't be afraid, just believe” (Mark 5:36).

He questioned people to see if they believed in him. “Do you believe I am able to do this?”, he asked the people who had brought two blind men to him for healing. “Yes Lord”, they replied. “Accordingly”, said Jesus, “it will be done to you”. And their sights were restored (Matt 9: 28-30). St Paul sees belief as necessary for salvation. “Believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved”, says Paul. (Acts 16:31)

To the criminal who was crucified alongside Jesus, who believed he had done nothing wrong, Jesus says: “today you will be with me in paradise”, (Luke 23:43).

“That whoever believes in him”. What does belief do to our lives? Belief in God, says Sister Carol of the Community of Holy Name, “opens us to the limitless possibilities of God”. Belief in the love of God, empowers people to do things, to seize opportunities, which go beyond anything they could do in their own strength, to do something beautiful for God. That was the title of a book written some years by Malcolm Muggeridge about Mother Teresa.

Mother Teresa was a small, frail woman serving the poorest of the poor first of all in the slums of Calcutta. Starting out with no money, no resources, no preconceived ideas, armed only with her belief in God, Mother Teresa served the poor, not only in India but, by creating a order of sisters, serving the destitute, the handicapped, the leprosy sufferers, the dying, in over a hundred countries.

For Mother Teresa, “it was not enough”, says a biographer, Navin Chawla, “to observe the three vows - of chastity, poverty and obedience. While fully endorsing these, she also took a fourth vow - to wholeheartedly serve the poorest of the poor”.

Mother Teresa, went beyond what was reasonably expected of her. It’s that going beyond which is so often the hallmark of the believer. Like for example, Bernice Macdonald of north London, whose story was told recently on a BBC Songs of Praise programme. Over the last 30 years, Bernice has personally fostered over 700 children in her own home, some of them thrown out of their parent’s home, some staying with her for a few nights, some for years. No one has ever been turned away. Why? Because of the belief that Bernice has in the loving God, because that belief means that love is not something she just talks about, but something she puts into practice. Again, going beyond.

When Issac Ns-ereko grew up in Uganda, his mother died when he was nine, his father had died before he was born. For seven years, Issac lived on the streets. In 1978 a battalion of Idi Amin’s troops came by and noticed a group of miserable looking and hungry children. They felt they should carry out an act of “kindness”. They herded about 50 of them into an enclosure and threw three bombs at them. Issac was one, and was one of the few to survive. Badly injured, he was helped by a muslim who took him to hospital, and then adopted him, enabling Issac to pick up his education. He went on to University and later to ordination in the Anglican church.

In 1996 he talked with a bishop about an idea he’d had for a long time - to start a school for homeless and needy children. Again, without any resources, any experience, with nothing but belief in God, he did so, and today over 800 children are attending the school and receiving an education. The school’s resources are still tiny, and it’s helped by supporters in a number of countries, people who recognise the difference that the belief of the now Rev. Dr. Issac is making to the lives of some of Uganda’s neediest children.

It’s also, in unexpected events where belief can make a difference, in encounters which were just not expected. Tony Campolo, an Italian Baptist with a ministry in the United States, who spoke at the Oxford Diocesan convention in 2002, tells, for example, of how he flew from the east coast of America to Hawaii, a time difference of 6 hours. He arrived at 9 o’clock in the evening, on his watch, but 3 a.m. in the morning, local time. He wasn’t tired, and decided to look for a bite to eat.  He wandered up the deserted streets of the capital Honolulu, and up a side street found a cafe/bar that was still open. He sat on a bar stool with a coffee and a cake, and all was peaceful.

When suddenly, and I quote: “to my discomfort, in through the door marched 8 or 9 provocative and boisterous prostitutes. It was a small place and they sat on either side on me. Their talk was loud and crude, and I was just about to leave, when the woman sitting beside me said: ”It’s my birthday tomorrow. I’m going to be 39”.

“So what do you want me to do?”, asked another of the women, “bake you a cake, give you a party? “No” said the woman next to me, “I’ve never had a birthday party in my whole life. Why should I have one now?”

“When I heard that”, writes Tony Campolo, “I made a decision. I waited until the women had left, then asked the barman: “do they come here every night?” “Every night” he said. “And the one sat next to me, she comes here every night?” “Yes”, said the barman, “that’s Agnes, she comes every night. Why do you want to know?”

“Because she said that tomorrow is her birthday. What do think about throwing a birthday party for her, right here, tomorrow night?”   “That’s great”, said the barman, “I like it”. “I’ll come tomorrow night about 2.30 and bring some decorations”, said Tony, “and I’ll get a birthday cake”. “No, the cake’s on me”, said the barman.

“At 2.30 the next day I was back”, he goes on, “I’d made a sign that read “Happy Birthday Agnes” and I hung decorations from one end of the bar to the other. Some of her friends got wind of what was happening and had arrived early. When Agnes came in, on the dot of 3.30, everyone screamed “Happy Birthday”. Never, have I seen a person so flabbergasted, so stunned. Her mouth feel open, and when she sat on one of the stools, and we all sang: “Happy Birthday dear Agnes, Happy Birthday to you”, she cried openly. “Blow out then candles Agnes” said the barman.

It was a happy occasion, writes Tony, and later on I felt it was right to ask if we could say a prayer. I told them that I happened to be a church minister. “I prayed for Agnes on her birthday, I prayed that that God would be good to her.  When I’d finished, the barman said to me: “hey, you never told me you were a minister. What church do you belong to”?

“In one of those moments when the right words came”, says Tony Campolo, “I replied: O, I belong to a church that gives parties for prostitutes at 3.30 in the morning!’    ‘O no you don’t’, said the barman, ‘O no you don't. There’s no church like that. | But if there was a church like that, I would join it’”.

And I have a feeling you would find Jesus there too. Going beyond, taking the church out into the community in that way, was possible because of the belief that that faithful 68-year old minister has in God. Belief means there is no fearlessness in doing God’s work. Things which may seem impossible are possible if belief in God is there.

“Wanted”, writes the American poet Theodore Roethke, “people who specialise in the impossible”.   All of us have special gifts, unique to us, that enable us to specialise in some way in showing God’s love. Based on belief in God, those gifts are like a tiny seed that can blossom in a unique way. “it is finished”, cried Jesus from the cross. But it is not finished for us, our work goes on, in the strength of the belief we have in the God who died for us on the cross, and who is risen.

“If you believe in me”, said Jesus, “you will do the things that I do”. If we say we believe in God, then we believe also in that statement. We may cry, “Lord I believe, help thou my unbelief:” But if we step out in belief, if we take the small amount of belief we have, then God is there to meet us, our belief is advanced in him.

Its through belief, however little or how much we have, that God’s grace in released, is realised, through us.

Let us pray

Seventh address
God So Loved the world that He gave his only Son Jesus Christ that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

So we come to the final theme of this verse from Chapter 3 of John’s gospel - “Should not perish, but have eternal life”. Or, in some translations, everlasting life. The word perish can mean something that disappears, evaporates or it can mean - freezing cold. “I’m perishing”, we say. That was something very often heard, or thought, in this church in former times. St John seems to have meant the word in the first way, we shall not perish, not disappear, but have eternal life.

But the freezing meaning of the word “perish” also seems relevant. If something is frozen, it’s the opposite of lively - of life. You put something in the freezer, it’s frozen until you take it out, de-freeze it, and make use of it.

Are we God’s frozen people? Someone wrote a book with that title years ago. Are we frozen assets, rather than fully alive? Does our English reserve keep us freezing? The preacher who said from here many years ago: “Your English reserve has got to go to hell because that’s where it belongs”, calculated to shock, but seems to me to have got it about right. If Jesus had reserved part of himself, who would have ever heard of him.

In preparing this service, I was struck, above anything else, by the significance of this little word all. By how much it figures in the Gospels, that Jesus gave all, says that he will draw all people to him if he is lifted up, that God is a God of all life, that he invites us to give all, to leave the reserves behind. And something else which has come in several times is the concept of us as seeds. I’ve seen frozen seeds in a number of seed banks, seeds of important crops. But those seeds need thawing before they can produce anything.

Eternal life. “What must I do to inherit eternal life” an expert in the law once asked Jesus, (Luke 10:25) And Jesus replied with the story of the Good Samaritan, a story which ends with this instruction to the lawyer - “Go, and do thou likewise”. Show mercy, give, be compassionate, treat everyone as your neighbour.

Eternal life, not an easy concept for us to grasp. Eternal life - what for? Eternal life, to enjoy the Kingdom of God, the Kingdom of love, of joy. “The Kingdom of God is a party”, writes Tony Campolo. The Taizé chant we have just sung is based on a verse from Paul’s letter to the Romans (14:17), and sums up the Kingdom of God. “The Kingdom of God is justice and peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. Come, Lord, and open in us the gates of your Kingdom."

In other words, the Kingdom of God, eternal life, is not something that only begins when we leave our present life. It is here now. “The Kingdom of God is within you”, said Jesus, (Luke 17:21). It’s here now, within you, within this church, imperfectly, tiny, a seed. “What is the Kingdom of God like”, said Jesus,” what shall I compare it with. It is like a mustard seed, that grew and became a tree”, (Luke 13:18-19).

Eternal life, says Bishop James Jones, “is about meeting with God now and having that relationship for eternity”. The Kingdom of God means us working now for justice and for peace, and doing it, not relying on our own efforts, but in the power and the joy of the Risen Lord.

Which is why we pray - Come, Lord, and open in us the gates of your Kingdom, that God may open in our hearts, the gates, so that justice, peace and joy will be hallmarks of our lives. Only a seed, yes, but a seed called to grow into a tree. How does a seed grow? When it’s cared for and well-watered. And, in the building of the Kingdom of God, the “water” for the task is provided by God. To change the analogy slightly - ”We are dust”, says Bishop Richard Holloway, “but we are dust, called to glory”.

Within, a stone’s throw of busy Marble Arch in central London, lies a quiet convent of some 25 nuns, the Tyburn Nuns, Their order was founded just over a hundred years ago by a French woman, Marie Adele Garnier. She doesn’t seem to have written a great deal, but Marie Adele Garnier left us with a gem. “Human beings”, she wrote, “are like caterpillars, waiting to be transformed into butterflies at the Resurrection”.

The transforming power of Resurrection, there if we will accept it. Whenever I watch the TV channel CBebies, I learn something. And something I learned recently is that if you take a piece of absorbent paper and paint in the middle 3 fairly wide strips in a slight arc in different colours, say red, yellow and green, and then fold it in the middle, press it together and open it out, you get - and I could hardly believe this but it’s true - you get a butterfly. Try it - not here preferably but back at home. The material didn’t look promising, but the end result was fantastic.

Unpromising material, maybe, the caterpillar, perhaps, but the Resurrection can transform our lives into something quite different, yes, the butterfly. “Christianity”, says Sister Carol, “is about the transformation of the human condition into the maturity of Christ, and Christ is the new humanity, the undistorted image of what we are called to become”.

We are called to grow, to leave the caterpillar behind, to rise above the things that hold us back. The earthly work of Jesus did not end on the Cross. His cry “it is finished”, was the understandable cry of a man who had suffered such agony, but it was the Resurrection that was the culmination of his work. When the pharisees warned Jesus that Herod wanted to kill him, he replied that he would heal people today and tomorrow and “on the third day, I finish my work”, (Luke 13:32).

“To stop with Good Friday”, says Rowan Williams, “is to see the crucified simply as reflecting back to me my own condition and can even leave us a martyr for our own cause. The Resurrection reverses the normal order of a fallen world”, he goes on.

And so we worship a risen Christ, not a dead Christ, we do not leave Jesus on the cross. ”Have you ever seen a night which gets the better of the dawn”, asks French pastor Pierre Guilbert. The dawn rises over everything, as Jesus rises above everything, everything in our lives if we will allow him to do so. To quote Rowan Williams again: “Jesus is not a past hero, he is alive, he is there, to be encountered again”.

He is alive. Jesus conquers death, he refers to the death on the cross as “a baptism”, (Mark 10, 38-39). “For Jesus”, writes Archbishop Rowan, “a new and potentially infinite network of relations is opened up. It is a source of new life”.

When we leave this earth, we cross from one stage of life to another, we shall be baptised into a new life. We cannot envisage what it will be like, but I have a feeling that it will not be sitting round all day listening to angels play harps. Gerard Hughes tells the story of a friend called Ursula Burton who was diagnosed with cancer. “Ursula had already befriended death”, he writes, “and had discovered such inner peace that she was able to appreciate the present moment to the full. If we are going to enjoy life to the full and enjoy every moment, we need to practice detachment, we need to befriend death”. What a paradox!, “it is the wisdom of God”, he says.

“I met Ursula a few weeks before she died”, he goes on, “She told me not to let them put ‘may she rest in peace’ on her tombstone. ‘I have no intention of resting in peace’, she said. “What do you intend doing”, I asked. ‘I want to be with people who are crossing from this stage of life to the next, helping those who are dying to move into their new life”.

To be alive is to live intensely “in the present moment, in the present time”, writes Brother Roger, “to allow God to bring life to our dry bones”. And Jesus was intensely alive, aware of what others failed to notice. “To be alive”, says John Taylor, “is to see ordinary things in an extraordinary way, to be sensitive to new truth, to respond flexibly to unforeseen demands, to be wide open to people”.

To be wide open, not withdrawn, to live fully in the moment. If you’re carrying a full glass of water and someone brushes up against you, knocks your arm, it’s likely that some of that water will spill on the other person. Likewise, if we are alive to Christ, than whenever we brush up against another person, something of Christ will “spill” onto that person.

It’s Friday. but Sunday’s coming. Tony Campolo wrote a book with that title. “Why is it called Good Friday?” is a question that I suppose we have all asked at times and probably been asked. I don’t know the theologically correct answer to that, but it seems to me that we can call today Good Friday because what happened on that day was a supreme act of love, costly sacrificial love, part of the ongoing work of God’s creation. This is God of Love Friday. We can call it good because God’s will was done, and because Friday is followed by Sunday, the cross followed by the resurrection

Eternal life, the Kingdom of God, shining through the cross and the risen Lord. The characteristic of God’s kingdom can only be love. It is that Kingdom that God invites us to help build. His love invites us to let our soul live, as Jesus lives. “The call that the Gospels address to us all”, says Brother Roger, is “Leave worry behind, leave hopelessness behind, let your soul live”.

Our soul lives, because of the love that God shows us, a God who so loved the world that He gave his only Son Jesus, who, in the words of a hymn we sing over Easter, carried a world of violence and pain, but who is risen, is alive, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.

Amen

Let us pray