Isaiah 63.7-9, Matthew 2.13-end
The Second Sunday of Christmas, 1 January 2017
Queen Camel (Together at Ten), West Camel (TeaTime)
Have you made a New Year’s Resolution?
Or are you like me, one of those people whose only resolution is to resolve no to make a resolution - because they’re all too easily broken - and we find that discouraging?
But there are resolutions and resolutions - and maybe those of us who tend to avoid them might be encouraged to have a rethink. Because resolutions do seem to be a Christian thing. Good resolutions, resolutions that last. Scripture is full of them. [1]
Perhaps the best known resolution in scripture is that of the Prodigal Son, who, having spent up all his inheritance, lying in a strange place in self-imposed poverty, remembers that there is a place where he has always been welcomed and belonged - home - and so he resolves, “I will arise and go to my father”. [2] He remembers; he acts on that memory, and, oh, the relief of making a clean breast of things.
What a wonderful resolution - when we’re in trouble or simply troubled, to turn to the Father in whom there is always welcome and belonging. That’s the sort of resolution we could make a habit of adopting, not just for one time but frequently - at the start of every day, at the start of every venture, to resolve, “I will arise and go to my father”.
In Psalm 34 we witness David remembering that when “[He] sought the Lord, the Lord answered him, and delivered him from all his fears,” and so he made this resolution: “I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.” [3] He remembers; he acts on that memory, and, oh, the joy in finding a blessing in all things.
What a wonderful resolution - when we find our view of our own life and of other people shrinking into darkness, when all we can muster is criticism and cynicism, this is a way of developing an attitude which sees the positive in life and attributing it to God. Getting into the habit of looking at life with thanksgiving - not denying the darkness in us and the world but electing to shine a light into it, frequently, faithfully.
In 2 Samuel 24 we meet David again, King David, resolving to give Araunah the Jebusite a very generous price for the purchase of his threshing-floor, so that David could build an altar to the Lord there, as God had told him to. Araunah did not want to take any payemnt for the plot, but, no doubt remembering all the generous acts of mercy and goodness which God had done for him, David resolved to say: “I will not offer to the Lord that which costs me nothing.” [4] He remembers; he acts on that memory, and, oh, the satisfaction in giving generously back to the generous giver.
What a wonderful resolution - to be generous to the one who is generous to us; to give more than is necessary back to the One who gives us everything. I am reminded of a Methodist minister who was once asked how much we ought to give, as Christians. The person who asked was probably expecting him to talk about maybe a tithe, a percentage of disposable income. But - echoing King David - the Methodist minister said, “We ought to give more than we can afford.” In other words, we ought to resolve daily to be generous in all our actions, for such generosity flows from God and back to God, and is a great blessing for us and all who benefit from it. [5]
Now, in these examples I’ve used, have you noticed something about resolutions - good resolutions, resolutions that last?
First, such resolutions involve remembering, and acting on that remembrance. They look back to an act of goodness, kindness, generosity - and they respond in kind.
And second, such resolutions are habit-forming. They are repeatable. And if we repeat them, often and always, they soak into our soul and come out in the way we live towards God and others.
Interesting, you might think of what we are doing together here today as remembering, and acting on that remembrance - you’ve resolved to come to worship, to take part in a liturgy which helps you remember the goodness of God. And this is, for most of us here, habitual. We do this often, regularly resolving to respond to the invitation of Jesus to come and share in his Communion meal - to remember him, and go out encouraged to live for him.
“I will arise and go to my father,” you have resolved.
“I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth,” you have resolved.
“I will not offer to the Lord that which costs me nothing,” you have resolved.
And so you are here, we are here, we remember; we act on that memory, and, oh, the goodness we feel in worshipping together.
It marries us with Isaiah - if we look again at the reading we heard this morning:
Isaiah 63.7
I will recount the gracious deeds of the Lord,
the praiseworthy acts of the Lord,
because of all that the Lord has done for us,
and the great favour to the house of Israel
that he has shown them according to his mercy,
according to the abundance of his steadfast love.
And our resolution to come to worship to remember the goodness of God to us and to act on that memory, it connects us to the Magi and to Joseph who, in our gospel reading, resolved to take new and unexpected routes towards safety and security, having remembered what God had told them in dreams. [6]
Now, at the break of a new year there are two conversations taking place about the Church and the future of Christianity in this country. One conversation - very familiar to readers of most of our newspapers - is of a church in terminal decline. The numbers of those resolving to join together in corporate worship week-on-week is at a low, and census and other survey figures reveal that those resolving to define themselves as Christian has significantly fallen, whilst the ‘no-religion’ category has risen equally dramatically. Numerical decline drives anxious conversations in and outside the Churches, and arguably it is this anxiety which provokes missional initiatives which are focussed on our getting more - if you’ll excuse the crude expression - ‘bums on seats’.
But there is another conversation, based on another but equally valid set of figures. And this is about Christian social activity. Which is very vibrant at this time. After a decade of research the Christian think tank Theos - backed by the Anglican and Roman Catholic churches - has just produced a report whose foreword includes these words:
Strange things are happening to Christianity in the United Kingdom. While critics prophesy its imminent demise - as critics have done for several hundred years - Christians across the country are doing what they too, have done for may hundreds of years: worship, pray, witness, serve. There is nothing, of course, strange about this. What is strange - or at least worthy of greater notice than it usually receives - is that the breadth, depth and intensity of this Christian service is deepening. From personal debt advice to marriage counselling, from foodbanks to street pastors, from rehabilitation to reconciliation, the Church - and Christian charities across the country are rolling up their sleeves, struggling on behalf of human dignity, pursuing the common good - and doing it all in the name of Jesus Christ. [7]
As the numbers of those attending church services have continued to decline since 2006, research suggests that social action by Christians and churches has grown over the same period. The report’s author Nick Spencer, wrote, “There may be fewer people on pews, but there are many more running luncheon clubs, and mums and toddlers’ groups, and foodbanks, and homeless charities, and debt-advice centres, and drop-in centres, and the like. Christians are ‘doing good’.” [8]
How does this connect with our theme of resolutions, of our remembering, and acting on that remembrance?
Well, Nick Spencer suggests that while Christians are involved in the liturgy of worship, the songs and creeds and familiar prayers of church, we are also involved in what he calls a “social liturgy”.
We not only resolve to respond to the goodness of God in our public worship, we also resolve to respond to the goodness of God through our public charitable activity. Thus, Mr Spencer writes, our social liturgy is just “another way of worshipping God in public”. [9]
Our church liturgy comes when we resolve to attend services and give our hearts and voices back to God in remembrance of his goodness to us.
Our social liturgy comes when we resolve to give not just our church attendence, not just our money, but our time, and our talents, too, back to God, in remembrance of all that the Lord has done for us. [10]
Look at the amount of Christians involved in social liturgy, and Christianity in the UK today looks to be in good health.
And so, may this be our resolution, a good one which we can repeat daily and which can become habit-forming. To live out a social liturgy where we are in 2017.
As we remember the gracious deeds of the Lord towards us, let us resolve to be gracious towards others, for his sake.
As we recall the praiseworthy acts of the Lord, may our actions in society be praiseworthy, in his name.
As we keep ourselves conscious of all that the Lord has done for us, his mercy, the abundance of his steadfast love to us, may we resolve to enact mercy, to be abundant and constant in love, in our daily lives of worship in the world.
As an inspiration towards that, I close with a litany called “Now the Work of Christmas Begins” composed by the African-American theologian, educator, and civil rights leader Howard Thurman.
When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart. [11]
Notes
[1] The scriptural references and exposition are lifted from John Peck, Good Resolutions, sermon from The Revd John Peck: Sermons and Talks for a New Generation website.
[2] Luke 15.18.
[3] Psalm 34.
[4] 2 Samuel 24.18-25.
[5] This story told by John Peck in his Good Resolutions sermon.
[6] Matthew 2.13-23.
[7] The Most Rev Justin Welby, Archbishop of Canterbury and Cardinal Vincent Nichols, Archbishop of Westminster, Foreword in Nick Spencer, Doing Good: A Future for Christianity in the 21st Century, Theos 2016.
[8] Tim Wyatt, The future of the Church is in doing good, say Archbishops, Church Times, 22 Dec 2016.
[9] Tim Wyatt, The future of the Church is in doing good, say Archbishops, Church Times, 22 Dec 2016.
[10] Tim Wyatt, The future of the Church is in doing good, say Archbishops, Church Times, 22 Dec 2016.
[11] Howard Thurman, The Mood of Christmas & Other Celebrations.
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