Sermon, 14th June 2020
Courage!
Reading: Matthew 9.35-10.23
For many of us church is such a regular feature of our lives that it’s easy to overlook the truly radical nature of the gospel. Time and again Jesus does and says things that turn the normal order of things upside down. When he declared “the last will be first and the first will be last” he completely contradicted the conventional wisdom of not just his time but ours as well. In short, his teaching can often appear so radical that it can seem impossible to obey it.
Today’s gospel reading contains just such an example of Jesus demanding more of his disciples than seems either reasonable or sensible. He tells them to go out to cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers and cast out demons. That’s a tall order enough but look what follows. He tells them to go out without any money and with the minimum of clothing. Then he piles on the pressure by saying that he’s sending them out like sheep amongst wolves and that they’ll suffer persecution for his sake. We can only marvel that the early disciples did precisely as requested. We know this from the account of the early church that is the Acts of the Apostles. Without their courage, there would be no church today.
The transforming factor in their lives was – of course – the trust they had in Jesus, a trust they maintained after he ceased to be with them, thanks to the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Courage, trust – these are but other words for faith or belief. Too often in church we think about faith in terms of whether we can genuinely believe in this or that doctrine and whether we can say all of the creed without crossing our fingers. Without in any way denying the value of doctrine and the debating of it, I would suggest to you that the kind of faith shown by the early disciples in today’s gospel is of far greater importance to how we live our lives and how far we follow Jesus’ teachings.
Stepping out in courage is nothing less than essential if we are to live creative, fulfilling lives.
Just recently I had a conversation with a young man worrying about whether he can make a life-long commitment to the young woman he’s been seeing for 5 years. What was eluding him was certainty that it would all work out well. The trouble, as I tried telling him, is that we can never know such certainty and that, if we do, it’s probably false.
What’s true in relationships is true elsewhere in our lives. Think of moving house, or risking hard-earned cash going on holiday somewhere entirely new, or moving job, or changing your career altogether. If we are incapable of screwing up our courage to take a risk then we will be condemned to living dull, cramped lives and that’s not what God intends for us.
The kind of faith that enables us to take risks is a key theme of the bible. Consider the book of Exodus and Moses leading his people to the promised land, the land flowing with milk and honey. Do they want to go? No, they don’t. They don’t like the risk, telling Moses they’d rather stay as slaves in Egypt than risk the journey.
To live bold, courageous lives requires that we enjoy a sense of security, not the security of unfounded optimism but the security of knowing ourselves held, of knowing ourselves loved. As I said earlier, Jesus didn’t mince his words about what lay ahead for his disciples. Rather, what their trust in him gave them was an assurance that they had the resources to cope whatever happened, that ultimately, they really were OK.
And what can sustain us – and will sustain us - is just the same as what sustained the disciples after Jesus had left them, namely, the Holy Spirit. Assuredly, the Spirit is with us but we have to acknowledge the Spirit and allow the Spirit to inhabit us, to fill us with that peace which the world cannot give. There is only one way to do this and interestingly it’s been the consistent theme of the sermons over these past few weeks; that way is prayer.
It’s not the prayer of the shopping list, the things you want God to do for you, helpful though that can be at times. It’s the prayer that Bishop Rob spoke of – the prayer that’s as simple as breathing in and out, repeatedly and calmly speaking God’s name that is no name - Yod-hay-vav-hay. It’s the prayer that Marjorie spoke of last week, using the sign of the cross to ground ourselves in God’s presence as our creator, sustainer and redeemer. It’s the prayer of silent reflection and contemplation, the prayer of taking time to notice – really, deeply notice - the world about us, its sights and its sounds. It’s the prayer of being completely alive to the present moment.
As Bishop Rob said, quoting the Pope, when we make time for this type of prayer we open up a space within ourselves wherein the Holy Spirit can dwell within us, bestowing on us peace, assurance and – yes – courage.
It’s surely no coincidence that prayer has been a clear theme in the sermons during this lockdown period, so let’s not waste the positive insights that the lockdown has given us.
Let’s instead, be resolved - through prayer - to live boldly, live courageously and live fully.
Amen