Month: February 2025

Psalm 91.1-11, Luke 4.1-13

First Sunday of Lent, 9 March 2025, Austwick, Keasden

The devil roamed the moral wilderness of the international food industry, and met a supplier, hungry for profits. The devil said to him, ‘As you have the means to do it, why don’t you substitute horse meat for beef?’ And the supplier said, ‘That sounds like a profitable idea, I’ll give it a try’. [1]

Then the devil came across the executive of a multinational supermarket chain and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, ‘To you I will give their glory and all this authority, if you do things my way, exploiting the land and the workers to maximise your profits.’ And the executive said, ‘Show me the contract, I’ll get our lawyers to approve it straightaway’.

Then the devil appeared at a supermarket checkout, and said to the customers purchasing processed food, ‘If you throw yourself wholeheartedly into consuming food full of additives, fat, sugar, and calories, you have nothing to fear, for the angels of God will protect you from cancer, heart disease, obesity and tooth decay.’ And they said, ‘I believe you, here’s my loyalty card’.

The three temptations of Jesus in the wilderness are the very same temptations which we succumb to today:

First, the temptation to turn stones into bread, or horse meat into beef: in other words to manipulate nature for our own gain; a temptation which troubles our delicate relationship with the earth;

Second, the temptation to gain power and authority in the world: to stop at nothing to increase our wealth and improve our status; a temptation which troubles our delicate relationship with others;

Third, the temptation to jump from the temple: that is, to behave in self-destructive ways, lazily assuming that however noxious our lifestyle, we will be saved; a temptation which troubles our delicate relationship with God.

It is indisputable that our relationships with the earth and its creatures, with each other and with God, are deeply affected by the way we either give in to these temptations, or resist them. 

The earth, each other and God are the three fundamental elements in each of our lives. They are not separate entities, but fully intertwined. My friend and colleague Stuart Elliott talks about them as soil, soul, and society:

Soil is literally the planet earth on which we stand. Though we seldom acknowledge it, earth and its creatures provide for us everything we need to live. Our connection with this earth is vital and we must recognise our interdependence with all life on the planet, learning to tread lightly.

Soul is our ‘inner being’. We might think of ourself as an individual, as ‘I’, but in reality our selves are the ultimate ‘We’. We are all connected at an intrinsic level to the source of life – to God, the creator and sustainer of the earth, and this interrelation shapes our souls.

Society describes our interdependence with other humans and with all living things, our global neighbours. Society is what we create together. We each have responsibility for our relationships with all: humans, creatures, all living things. [2]

There is a delicate ecology which holds us together in this detailed set of relationships. The balance of this ecology is easily upset when we succumb to one or more of those three temptations. 

We organise the market to turn stones into bread – to produce cheap food of poor quality, exploiting poor producers overseas and struggling farmers here, mistreating creatures, exhausting the land, underpaying warehouse operatives and checkout staff. These practices are an abuse of nature which primarily affect the poor and powerless, and so they are about global justice; and if we feel ill-equipped to change or challenge the system, or if we’re troubled by not knowing how to act when we see injustice at work, this can crush our spirit.

Jacques Ellul, a twentieth-century Reformed theologian, wrote of our society that “more and more sin becomes collective, and the individual is forced to participate in collective sin. Everyone bears the consequences of the faults of others.” [3]

But the good news is that the gospel of Jesus provides us with all we need to live with those consequences. Jesus gives us the power to resist these temptations; for he has been there before us – into the moral wilderness to contest these issues with the devil. And the outcome of that contest gives us the strength and courage to know that if we resist the devil, he will flee from us. [4] 

And so we thank Jesus for resisting temptation by saying ‘One does not live by bread alone’: encouraging us that we can withstand the lure of cheap and easy food, imaginatively and compassionately finding ways to shop, eat and share, which benefit the earth, ourselves, and others.

We thank Jesus for resisting temptation by saying ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him’: showing us that we needn’t be anxiously toiling to gain wealth or status whatever the damage, for if we learn to accept ourselves as God’s children, our sense of self-worth as a consequence of God’s love for us, then we can prayerfully daily walk this earth at peace. 

And we thank Jesus for resisting temptation by saying ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test’: so that with His help, we can repel the urge to find salvation in things which will ultimately destroy us, and to know the joy of having our loving, caring God at the centre of our lives.

The nineteenth century writer John Ruskin coined the term illth. Illth is the reverse of wealth just as ill is the opposite of well. Ruskin proposed that “the persons commonly considered wealthy” who were “causing various devastation and trouble around them in all directions” were “acting not as wealth, but as ‘illth’”. ”There is no Wealth but Life,” he said. “That man is richest, who, having perfected the functions of his own life to the utmost, has also the widest helpful influence, both personal, and by means of his possessions, over the lives of others” [5]

God’s ecology is a gentle and generous one which reunites us with the earth, with others and with our own selves. 

We can find true wealth as we nurture God’s ecology in our lives; by being ever alert to those things which draw us back to it; prayerfully seeking to deepen and strengthen our relationships with the soil, the soul and the society which together make up the richness of our lives.

 

Notes

[1] This is a version of a sermon originally preached in Devon in 2013 when the news was full of scandal over the contamination of meat products, see eg, Felicity Lawrence, Horsemeat scandal: the essential guide, The Guardian, 15 February 2013. Also preached in Somerset in 2016.

[2] Extracted from Stuart Elliott, A Place on Earth which speaks of Heaven?, unpublished paper, 2013 (altered). Stuart was at the time responsible for the work in Ecology of the Diocese of St Asaph Board of Church and Society: read his blog here. In adopting the ‘Soil, Soul, Society’ model Stuart affirms the work of some fellow-travellers: Soil Soul Society: A New Trinity for Our Time is also the title of a 2013 book by peace and environment activist Satish Kumar, expressing the vision that ‘We are members of a one-earth society, and caring for the earth and soul is interrelated!’ And similarly, Soil and Soul: People versus Corporate Power by Scottish writer and campaigner Alastair McIntosh ‘shows how it is still possible for individuals and communities to take on the might of corporate power and emerge victorious’. All excellent reading!

[3] Jacques Ellul, The Presence of the Kingdom, quoted in Brian D. McLaren, Everything Must Change: When the World’s Biggest Problems and Jesus’ Good News Collide, p.243-244.

[4] James 4.7.

[5] John Ruskin, Clive Wilmer (ed), Unto This Last and Other Writings. See Wikipedia: illth.

2 Corinthians 3.12-4.2, Luke 9.28-43

The Sunday next before Lent,

2 March 2025, Eldroth, Clapham

“All of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image.”

Trying to picture an unveiled face, the first thing that comes to my mind is the bride, at that moment in the marriage service when she draws back her veil, looks into her loved one’s eyes, puts her past behind her and steps into a new future.

The second unveiled face I thought of, was that of Vida Movahed, an Iranan woman who protested against the compulsory hijab, and inspired many others to join the women’s rights movement in the Islamic Republic, seeing a new vision of themselves and what their future could be like. [1] 

Remember Moses, descending Mount Sinai with the tablets of the covenant, “the skin of his face shining because he had been talking with God”? This put so much fear into the people that from then on Moses would veil his face to conceal the glory radiating from it. But whenever Moses entered the tabernacle to speak with God, he would unveil his face again. [2]

God longs for his people to lift our faces from those things which obscure our vision, and see him face-to-face. Remember Aaron, Moses’ brother and high priest, whose benediction foresaw a time when the people would see God with unveiled faces: 

“The Lord bless you and keep you;

the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you;

the Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace.” [3]

Remember Zechariah, the father of John the Baptist, who, at the moment of his son’s birth opened his previously-sealed lips and, filled with the Holy Spirit, spoke this prophecy:

By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high has broken upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.’ [4]

And remember Peter and John and James, who went up on the mountain with Jesus to pray, and in a life-changing moment of revelation saw Jesus, his clothes dazzling white, transfigured with Moses and Elijah: the disciples’ unveiled faces beholding the glory of God in the person of Jesus.

These events help us to associate the idea of an unveiling with a moment of revelation, a moment which changes the way we see – the way we see God, the way we see ourselves, maybe the way we see our future – a transformational moment.

This week I’ve been reading the testimony of Esther Ghey, the bereaved mother of Brianna, the 16-year-old who was brutally murdered by two school friends in Warrington two years ago. It’s a hard story, of a troubled life, but within it there are moments of what I would call unveiling, moments of illumination leading to transformation and a change of direction. [5]

At the age of twenty, Esther Ghey’s life was “in turmoil”. She was a single parent to two young children, with a serious addiction to amphetamines. The turn-around for her was when social services “decided they weren’t going to take the children. That for me was a massive wake-up call,” she said. From that moment she began to turn her life around.

In her late 20s, now clean and a devoted mother, she started with a job as a cleaner at a car dealership before going back to college, doing an English GCSE, an access to health professions course, a degree in nutrition at Liverpool Hope University, and eventually became a senior product development technologist for a food company.

Now began a struggle with her daughter’s addiction – not to drugs, but to her smartphone through which Brianna accessed ever darker and more toxic material which altered the teenager’s behaviour: she self-harmed and was hospitalised with anorexia. She also got in with two schoolfriends who were secretly plotting to kill her, which they did, on the 11th February 2023.

On the day that Brianna’s murderers’ guilty verdicts were announced, came another moment of illumination for Esther. Outside court she said the killers had not shown “an ounce of remorse”, but urged “empathy and compassion” for their parents, saying “they too have lost a child”.  Esther realised that only by forgiving Brianna’s killers could she move on with her own life. “If I didn’t forgive them,” she said, “I would hold that hate in my heart and it would eat away at me. They’ve already taken Brianna away from me and I refuse to let them impact the rest of my life.”

Remarkably, Esther reached out to the mother of the girl who killed Brianna, and they have become close friends. They now see each other almost every week. Esther says that they have so much in common – two mothers grieving for their daughters in different ways. “There’s no blame there at all for Emma,” says Esther. “It’s easy to tell ourselves stories in our head about how people are, and it was important for me to meet her and see how she actually was. And she’s just a normal woman who was doing her best.”

Through all these moments of unveiling, of lifting-off fear and hurt and pain, to face reality in search of a renewal of life, Esther Ghey says that she believes she has been saved by mindfulness – the practice of focusing one’s awareness on the present moment, while calmly acknowledging and accepting one’s feelings, thoughts, and bodily sensations. Mindfulness is used as a therapeutic technique to uplift a person’s mental state. Esther is so convinced of the value of this practice that she has founded a charity which campaigns to take mindfulness training into schools. [6]

“We need to plant seeds of resilience, empathy and unity,” she says, “We need to give our children and young people tools to cope with the world and the ability to have the mental space to question before acting.” [7] 

Originally rooted in Buddhist mediation, mindfulness has become a popular practice now attached to no religion in particular. It’d say that it’s not unlike Peter and John and James going up the mountain with Jesus to pray. It’s not unlike the Christian practice of taking oneself off for a time to quietly be in the moment, to listen for the voice of God, to lift one’s face to the face of God.

Maybe Lent is our time to be mindful, mindful of those things which veil our sight of God, of goodness, of ourselves. 

Maybe Lent is the time for us to lift our veil, to lift our face to God’s face; maybe it’s our time to reach towards what goodness lies in store, in the future which God has for us.

 

Notes 

[1] Wikipedia, Girls of Enghelab protests in Iran.

[2] Exodus 34.29-35.

[3] Luke 1.67-79.

[4] Numbers 6.22-27.

[5] Quotes in the following section are from Simon Hattenstone, ‘I forgive the girl and boy for what they’ve done. If I didn’t, the hate would eat away at me’: Esther Ghey on life after the murder of her daughter Brianna. Guardian, 22 February 2025; see also Esther Ghey, Under a Pink Sky: A Mother’s Story of Love, Loss and the Power of Forgiveness.

[6] Peace and Mind UK.

[7] Esther Ghey, International Conference for Mindfulness. Peace & Mind UK, 1 August, 2024

Introduction to our series of Lent meetings; at Bowland and Ewecross Deanery Synod, 18 February 2025

I know some people who, at the mention of the words peace or peacemaking immediately switch off, in the same way as many today switch off our TVs or radios when the news comes on.

And this is understandable; for most of us, for at least some of the time, the world’s troubles seem overwhelming, and well out of our reach to even begin to solve.

But listen to Adam Curle, a Quaker peace educator and activist, who wrote, ”So many people do not see what they can do to alleviate the miseries of the world. But the great issues are built on a foundation of countless smaller ones. Every time we sow love where there was hatred we readjust the balance of the cosmos." 

Curle wants to encourage us that peace begins within – with an attitude of love towards others; and that peacemaking starts at home – through small acts of love to neighbours, both friends and strangers, even enemies: by God’s grace. And it is on this foundation of small, achievable, acts, that peace will  grow outwards into the wider world.

In this way we are all potential, and already active, peacemakers.

Don’t you long for peace? Peace in your heart and mind; peace in your family life; peace in our community; peace in this storm-tossed world.

We don’t hear enough about peace. Our media thrives on conflict; our public discourse thrives on stoking fear and distrust between peoples.

We’re all too familiar with acts of violence; why not expose us instead to acts of peace? 

We know all about waging war; but who will show us what it means to wage peace? 

We’re drowning in the language of accusation and confrontation; who will teach us to speak the language of mediation and reconciliation?

We know that the Christian faith, in common with all faiths, is more than equipped to help encourage and teach us to walk in the way of peace, through its teachings, traditions and champions of peace in this and every age.

And so, we meet during Lent not to solve the problems of the latest international crises; but to contemplate together what peace really means to us, and how in our own ways, in our own place, we can let peace rise to the top of our agenda, how we can let it shine in the darkness wherever that threatens.

This is a series for anyone interested in this theme, from whatever background; from absolute pacifists to those who in good conscience give or support military service for the sake of peacekeeping; from those who know a lot about campaigning to those for whom all this feels very new. 

If we can all talk together, listen together, then we’ll be learning so much from each other.

You’ll see from the publicity that our programme draws on the peace movement, the historic peace churches, interfaith work and ecumenical social action. 

There will be reflections on Christ’s words of peace. 

There will be plenty of time for conversation and also time each session for quiet reflection, to allow that peace of heart space to grow. 

There will be plenty of good resources for us to take away.

We hope that you will come, bring friends, and be encouraged.

Revelation 4, Luke 8.22-25

The Second Sunday before Lent, 23 February 2025, Austwick, Clapham

He woke up and rebuked the wind and the raging waves; they ceased, and there was a calm.

Don’t we just long for calm? Calm in our hearts and minds; calm in our family life; calm in our community; calm in this storm-tossed world.

If you come here today longing for calm, then be comforted. You have come to the right place; you have come to the right person – for Christ is, now and always, rebuking the winds that batter the world; Christ is, here and in all places, calming the storms that unsettle our souls.

The way of calm is Christ’s way. We know this from the gospel story we’ve heard today and know so well; it may surprise you to hear me say this, but we also know from the book of Revelation that Christ’s way is the way that ends in calm.

Revelation, an apocalyptic work which reveals truth about Christ in highly symbolic and imaginative language. Written to be read aloud to congregations in one sitting, The Revelation of Jesus Christ to John is a drama in the form of a letter to the seven churches of Asia Minor (modern day Turkey) around 95A.D. These were embattled communities of believers at that time, suffering persecution. John wanted to encourage these churches to continue in their faith through suffering, to be assured of the final victory of God and of the return of Jesus, the Lamb of God, whose death and resurrection and ascension has brought about the victory in the battle between the fallen and sinful powers that rule the world, and the angels and spiritual powers that reign in heaven. [1]

Now, from what you know of it, Revelation may seem more like The War of the Worlds than The Little Book of Calm – and yes, it does describe a cosmic conflict with Christ at the centre. But the key thing to know about Revelation is that The peace of the Lamb ends the wars of the world. 

God redeems the world not through violence and worldly power; the message of Revelation is that the kingdom of God is always already present in history, and it is not through violence, but through the cross and in the resurrection, that the world has been redeemed.

If we are anxious about the way the world is headed, we can trust, and be calm. Christians do not need to try to control history’s outcome. For Christ is ‘alpha and omega’, the beginning and the end of the world; time stood still on the cross and was redeemed on the third day, and the power of evil and of death itself are overcome in the resurrection. This was the secret that the writer of the Christian Apocalypse revealed to his readers. [2]

With so much apocalyptic speech in our public realm stirring up agitation today, it’s vital we grasp that ‘The Christian apocalypse does not indicate the end of the world in a mighty conflagration called Armageddon, nor the resettling of the land of Israel as Zionists would have it. On the contrary’:

Simply stated, “apocalypse” is shorthand for Jesus Christ. In the New Testament, in particular for Paul, all apocalyptic reflection and hope comes to this, that God has acted critically, decisively, and finally for Israel, all the peoples of the earth, and the entire cosmos, in the life, death, resurrection, and coming again of Jesus; God’s purposes for all are critically, decisively, and finally disclosed and effected in the history of Jesus Christ. [3]

When we hear presidents or prelates saying that we must bring about God’s kingdom by acting a certain way, then history warns us to be wary. For their intention is often to violently remove another people from their land, so that they can take it over. And history teaches us that empires built on this shaky moral ground ultimately fail. The Third Reich, Nazi Germany’s so-called Thousand-Year Reign, ended after only twelve years. Whatever Trump and Vance and Putin are cooking up just now may bring pain and suffering to millions; but their empires too will ultimately fall. Whilst the kingdom of God will remain, rooted and grounded in the company of the suffering millions.

Once Jesus was asked by the Pharisees when the kingdom of God was coming, and he answered, ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.’ [4]

That the kingdom of God is among us means that Christ is inviting us to daily share in the joyful liberation of the resurrected life, here and now; he wants us to look out for signs of him active in the world today, he longs for us to receive the blessing of his healing, reconciling love in our lives. The kingdom of God bears suffering, even the suffering of Calvary, and rises on the wings of resurrection life bringing hope, and calm, to those within it. 

When you find God at work, as he so often is, through people of goodwill quietly caring in our neighbourhoods, restoring spirits, healing lives, then you are witnessing the stilling of the winds that batter the world; when you’re inspired to do a generous act or say a kind word, then there you are, working with God to help calm storms and settle troubled souls. 

The word ‘Apocalyptic’ literally means ‘a revealing’. A bringing to light. How much we need the light to show us the path through life today. 

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it,” says the Gospel writer John the disciple, son of Zebedee of Galilee. And another John, John the Baptist, beside the River Jordan, revealed Jesus as “the light of all mankind … so that through him all might believe.” 

A third John wrote the book of Revelation on Patmos, an island in the Aegean Sea. Some choose to read his work to justify their power politics in the name of religion. But John’s intention is quite different: Revelation is written to celebrate the great insight that The peace of the Lamb ends the wars of the world. 

This is the revelation to thrill our souls:  that all the storms of empires will pass away, brought ultimately to a state of calm by the Lamb of God who holds the world in love. 

This is a message to lift our spirits: that all the storms in our hearts will cease, if we rest in the kingdom of God’s peace, daily comforted by his words of peace and reconciliation towards us; daily renewed by the exercise of walking in his healing ways. [5]

At the end of the world, this is what he says:  “Peace, be still”. 

In the midst of our lives, this is what he tells us:  “Peace, be still”. 

Notes

A précis of John’s Revelation Trumps Empire’s Apocalypse, preached in Somerset in 2017

[1] Wikipedia: Apocalyptic Literature; The Book of Revelation and Apocalypses in John Bowker, The Complete Bible Handbook: An Illustrated Companion, p.468-71.

[2] Michael Northcott, An Angel Directs the Storm: Apocalyptic Religion and American Empire, p.140.

[3] Michael Northcott, An Angel Directs the Storm: Apocalyptic Religion and American Empire, p.127-8, quoting Douglas Harink, Paul Among the Postliberals: Pauline Theology Beyond Christendom and Modernity, p.68.

[4] Luke 17.20-21.

[5] Michael Northcott, An Angel Directs the Storm: Apocalyptic Religion and American Empire, p.121.

1 Corinthians 15.12-20, Luke 6.17-26

The Third Sunday Before Lent, 16 February 2025

Austwick, Clapham

‘The poor, you will always have with you.’ [1] What did Jesus mean when he said that? That poverty is unfortunate but it is the way things are; that there will always be poor people – so why spend time trying to eradicate poverty? For generations Jesus’ words have been used as an excuse for non-involvement in social and political reforms. But surely that was not what Jesus meant….?

After all, Jesus was one of the poor of his day. Born in a stable, child of a migrant family fleeing Herod’s genocide, and in later years, having ‘nowhere to lay his head’, he knew homelessness.

Throughout his Galilean life Jesus was one of ‘the crowd’, the ‘people of the land’ who we find everywhere in the gospels. The Son of God was the son of a carpenter, not the poorest of trades but amongst the poorest of society, and his challenging, unconventional teaching soon made him a moral outcast in the eyes of those who upheld the status quo for their own comfort and gain. [2]

Jesus’ teaching reverses the roles between the rich and the poor. From what you’re told, you’d think that being rich is good news. But Jesus began his ministry announcing that his mission was to bring good news to the poor. [3] The ‘beatitudes and woes’ we heard today reinforce this teaching: 

Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.

Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.

But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.

Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry.

Jesus lived out these words, in a wandering ministry predominantly among the poor; engaging with the wealthy and powerful, but constantly challenging those who grew their wealth by exploiting others, and misused their power in oppressing others, calling on them to change.  

In Jesus’ society the wealthy elite who kept the Temple rules regarded themselves as the ‘righteous’. But in Jesus’ teaching [4] the righteous are those who feed the hungry, quench the thirsty, welcome strangers, clothe the naked and visit the prisoner. The righteous are the ones who bring good news to the poor, in recognition that Jesus is to be found in the poor, that the actions of people towards the poor are actions towards Jesus himself: ‘Truly I tell you,’ he said, ‘just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ [5]

Think of the stories of the ‘good Samaritan’ [6] the ‘unforgiving slave’ [7] and the ‘prodigal son’, [8] how they reinforce this ‘reversal of perspectives’, how they accomplish ‘a victory of human kindness over inflexible principles and hardened attitudes’, over fear, selfishness and greed. [9]

In Jesus’ teaching there is a place in the kingdom for the wealthy ones who can transform themselves through acts of kindness and generosity. His invitation to the rich ruler to sell all he owned and distribute the money to the poor, is a call to freedom and redemption. ‘Then you will have treasure in heaven’ [10] Jesus told him. Jesus’ teaching carries good news for all – including the wealthy elite – who turn to ‘seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness’. [11] Think of the joy of Zacchaeus the tax-collector, who, after he’d met Jesus, spontaneously returned to those he’d cheated, four times the amount of money he’d taken from them, in celebration of his salvation. [12]

Now, one of the most beautiful things about the Church is that it embraces both rich and poor alike. Our parishes include people of all positions on the social scale, and locally and worldwide the Church brings the richest and the poorest people together around the Lord’s Table.

For Jesus ate with both rich and poor. When not among ‘the crowds’, Jesus sat around meal tables sharing fellowship with invited guests. His meals were often hosted by people who were not outcasts. He ate in the homes of leading Pharisees, and many of his meals were paid for by wealthy supporters such as Joanna. The remarkable thing about Jesus’ meals was that they brought together around one table, devout Jews and the ‘outcasts and sinners’ and the poor of the land, which was an extraordinary departure from the divisive social and religious conventions of the time. 

So Jesus was on the side of the poor, whilst not being prejudiced against the wealthy. As Ronald Sider wrote in Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger, ‘God is not partial; nor is God neutral’:

God is not partial. He has the same loving concern for each person he has created. Precisely for that reason he cares as much for the weak and disadvantaged as he does for the strong and fortunate. By contrast with the way that the comfortable and powerful of every age and society always act toward the poor, God seems to have an overwhelming bias in favour of the poor. But [it] is only when we take our perverse preference for the successful and wealthy as natural and normative that God’s concern appears biased.

God, however, is not neutral. […] God is on the side of the poor! The Bible clearly and repeatedly teaches that God is at work in history casting down the rich and exalting the poor because frequently the rich are wealthy precisely because they have oppressed the poor or have neglected to aid the needy. God also sides with the poor because he disapproves of extremes of wealth and poverty. The God of the Bible is on the side of the poor [not] because he is biased, [but because] he is a God of impartial justice. [13]

Sometimes in our history dangerous, hateful, words are spoken about the poor, the homeless, and the outsider; sometimes we hear scripture being ‘weaponised and abused’ to justify bigotry and hatred and violence against the most vulnerable. We hear it more and more today, and the more we hear it, the more we must challenge and oppose it. [14]

This week, in response to events in the USA, Pope Francis wrote to the American bishops, urging ‘all the faithful of the Catholic Church, and all men and women of good will, not to give in to narratives that discriminate against and cause unnecessary suffering to our migrant and refugee brothers and sisters.’ He continued, saying that ‘With charity and clarity we are all called to live in solidarity and fraternity, to build bridges that bring us ever closer together, to avoid walls of ignominy and to learn to give our lives as Jesus Christ gave his for the salvation of all.’ [15]

As we approach the Lord’s Table in fellowship with all God’s people, let us recall where Jesus stood; that he sought to bring good news to the poor, that he taught that we should ‘welcome the stranger and fight for the least of us’. 

Let us never tire of trying to put ourselves alongside those he put himself with, in life; let us always desire to keep shining His light of love, joy and peace to all people. [16]

Notes

A rewrite of Placed among the poor, preached in Bratton Clovelly, Devon, 2013 and Gruline, Isle of Mull, 2019. In turn, the body of material in this sermon is edited from an unpublished academic essay of mine, ‘Does Jesus of Nazareth have a bias to the poor?’

[1] Matthew 26.11

[2] Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark’s Story of Jesus, p. 156

[3] Luke 4.14-21

[4] Matthew 25

[5] Matthew 25.45

[6] Luke 10.30-37

[7] Matthew 18.23-35 

[8] Luke 15:11-32

[9] Merkel, H, The Opposition Between Jesus and Judaism in Bammel, E, Moule, C.F.D (eds), Jesus and the Politics of His Day, p.136/7

[10] Luke 18.22

[11] Matthew 6.33

[12] Luke 19.1-10

[13] Ron Sider, Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger, p.76

[14] John Fea, (Congresswoman) Alexandria Ocasio Cortez asks what Jesus Christ would say if he preached his message in the House of Representatives. Current, 8 February 2025. (“I feel, especially in this body, that if Christ himself walked through these doors, and said what he said, that we should love our neighbour and our enemy, that we should welcome the stranger, fight for the least of us, that it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into the kingdom of heaven, he would be maligned as a radical and rejected from these doors.”)

[15] Pope Francis, Lettera del Santo Padre ai Vescovi degli Stati Uniti d’America, 11.02.2025. Vatican, 10 February 2025.

[16] John Fea, (Congresswoman) Alexandria Ocasio Cortez asks what Jesus Christ would say if he preached his message in the House of Representatives. Current, 8 February 2025.”)