Join the choir...

“Glory to God in the highest and peace to his people on earth.”

That was the song of the choir of angels on that first Christmas night and this morning we too have sung those self same words.  Maybe not to such angelic perfection but we’ve belted it out anyway!  Singing-up and sing out has become quite pop this year

I don’t know if you’ve been watching Gareth Malone and the military wives choir. But I’ve loved it as he has gathered a choir from scratch, taken them to the Albert Hall and if the bookies are right this afternoon they will be the Christmas number one.

But it is not only military wives and Choirs of angels singing today because we heard in our Gospel reading the shepherds also are getting in on the act, ‘glorifying and praising God’. 

Now Shepherds you need to understand are not the world’s most natural singers.  They would even be a challenge for Marvellous Mr Malone.  Indeed, shepherds had a reputation for being cheats and thieves, making use of other people’s land and moving on if they got into trouble.  And yet here they are at the heart of our story, watching their flock by night when suddenly the glory of the Lord shines around them. 

Well- being a feckless bunch they dive for cover, possibly worried that they are in trouble again.  But the angel tells them not to be afraid and brings them good news of great joy that today a saviour is borne who is Christ the Lord.  And as the angels sing his praises and the shepherds look on dumbstruck, watching heaven come close to earth.

And so the shepherds, go to see if it could be true.  To see if there really is a child in a manger as they have been told.  To see if God’s heavenly glory has really come down to earth?

I imagine them rushing to get there and then hesitating outside the stable, and pushing on one another peering through gaps to see if it true, whispering to one another as they catch sight of the manger and finally tumbling headlong into the stable- to see it all as the angel said.  And in their excitement they cannot help but sing praises glorifying God.

As we hear this story, so we too we travel with them. We also have heard the words of the angels, have come to a crib and now look upon a child lying in a manger.  And like the Shepherds- we too wonder what it all means.

We have heard the words of the prophet Isaiah praying for a prince who will bring an end to war and oppression.  A ruler who will bring justice to a troubled world.  We have heard the angels proclaiming this child as Lord and Saviour.  And now here before us, we find God in human form.

And in this vulnerable child, in the birth of this Prince of Peace we find comfort for our war torn world.  In this birth which unites shepherds and Kings and proclaims that we are all children of God we find an alternative to the divisions within our society and our city.  And as this child reaches out to us, and holds our finger in his tiny hand we find that we too are accepted by this holy child and that he will not let us go.

Now I may lack Gareth Malone’s boyish good looks and charm.  I may not have his specky glasses and tweed jackets.  But this morning, I want to invite all of you to join the choir.  And I don’t mean the shepherd’s choir, frankly they’re as bit ropey!  And I don’t mean St Stephen’s choir- they’re better but there’s better yet.  For this morning- I want you to join the choir of angels.  In the words of the hymn, I want us to be joyful and triumphant.

For that which the angels sang is true, that which the shepherds heard is true for on this happy morning heaven and earth have indeed become one for our God is in our midst. Amen.

Beatbox Nativity

Just in case anyone in Cheltenham is worried, I'm not going to be trying this- but applaud those who do!

The Scandalous Annunciation

Behind the High Altar at Southwark Cathedral there lies a Lady Chapel, where you will find a beautiful image of the annunciation over altar.  It is a copy of a work in the National Gallery by the Florentine artist Filippo Lippi which he painted for the Medici family in1450.  It also illustrates this morning’s Gospel.

The Angel Gabriel, bearing a Lily, kneels in the grass.  His golden, feathery wings flow out behind him.  His head is contained within a golden halo and he looks intent Mary.  Opposite him Mary sits indoors, listening to his words, looking down at the ground, drawing her blue cloak across belly.

The Annunciation is a one of the most powerful subjects of western art, capturing the imagination of Lippi, Fra Angelico, da Vinci and many others.  Too often, however, we view these treasures of European art in brightly lit galleries amongst chattering tourists and we can be blinded to truth which is portrayed.  In such a context we can be forgiven for merely seeing a beautiful renaissance work or a calm, classical scene.  However the truth of the matter is that the exchange between Gabriel and Mary is shocking and scandalous.

On the right, we see Mary a teenage girl betrothed, as good as married, to the carpenter Joseph.  She is perplexed and bemused by what she hears “ponders what sort greeting this might be.”  And well she might.  Birth in first cent Palestine was often a matter of life and death.  To go through it alone and abandoned to shame and disgrace would have been a double burden.

If this news of a pregnancy were not worrying enough, the angel tells her that her child will be called Jesus, meaning Saviour, and that through him God will fulfil promise to David.  The one we hear of in our Old testament reading this morning.  Th promise to make of David a great nation and to establish a Kingdom without end.  “How can this be” she replies, fear and confusion running through her head.  The absurdity of it all, the risk, the shame.  It is little wonder she recoils from the angel, looks away and covers her belly.

Meanwhile, on the left picture the angel too is pensive, as he looks at Mary.  As a heavenly messenger he seems to be looking deep into her soul.  His hand is ready to bless as he explains that she has been favoured, that she should not be afraid and he proclaims that nothing is impossible for God.  And so he kneels, he looks and he waits…

But there is a third element to this image.  An element the viewer too often misses and it is the space between Gabriel and Mary.  The space between outside and inside, between eternity and history.  For here hanging in this space is the greatest scandal of all.  For as Mary ponders and the angel waits, The promises of God hang in the balance between them.

The promise to David, the hopes of the patriarchs & prophets, the miraculous possibility that the disobedience of Adam might be undone.  All this hangs in the balance awaiting Mary’s response.  For in this moment, it is not only Mary that is at risk but God and his desire for the salvation of the world.

So what do we learn of Almighty God in this intimate exchange?  Well, it would seem that ours is not a God who forces himself on us.  Instead we see a God who woos us with his love.  Who begs us to be one with him.  And who invites us, with Mary, to be his partner in redemption. 

And in this most vulnerable moment a child is conceived.  A child whose boundless love- will be the salvation of the world.  Amen.

Prophet's warning

On the altar of our side chapel you will find an icon of John the Baptist. He is one of the more unsettling characters that we meet as we approach Christmas and we will hear about him in our Gospel reading this morning. 

He ate locusts and wild honey, wore a camel’s hair cloak and lived in the desert. In short, he is the kind of person you might cross the street to avoid. When people did go to see him, many went away with a flea in their ear. He told them to repent, to change their ways and not to mistake him for the one who is coming. 

‘Preparing for the one who is coming’ is what Advent is all about and preparing for Christmas seems to be what December is all about. Earlier this week I popped into Sainsbury’s only to find that the ubiquitous Christmas music was already being played and that mixed nuts, dates and Clementines were all on special offer. To me, it all seems a bit early and I prefer to wait a while- if only for the nice juicy Satsumas to also be available on two for one! 

Amidst our proper preparations for Christmas, however, John the Baptist stops us in our tracks and presents us with some tough messages. To those who came to see him and to us he says that if you really want to meet Jesus you need to be prepared to go on a journey, if you believe what he says your world will be turned upside down and if you choose to follow him your life will never be the same again.

Bohemian Nativity

I think the puppets speak/sing for themselves

Christmas preparations

Health advice at the Manna Centre

Today is Advent Sunday, the Church’s new year, when we begin to prepare ourselves for Christmas. But don’t worry you do not need to rush home to update the Christmas card list or book the Turkey delivery quite yet.

Instead, what we are encouraged to do during this period is to prepare ourselves spiritually. Indeed Advent is to Christmas, what Lent is to Easter. It is a time of reflection, repentance and preparation for the coming of Christ. Over these next few weeks our readings will tell us of those who longed for the Messiah and we will pray and sing of our desire that ‘the heavens may drop down from above and the skies pour down righteousness’.

Another of our Advent traditions here at St Stephen’s is to support the homelessness appeal of Churches Together in Dulwich. Last year this raised over £6,000 for projects across the Borough and this year many of them are reporting more and more clients coming through their doors.

This year we will have a special collection at our Carol service but you can also place a donation in an envelope marked Advent Appeal on any of the coming Sundays and put it in the collection plate.

There could be few better ways to prepare ourselves to greet a child who was born in a manger and who grew-up to be an adult who had nowhere to lay his head.

When Assemblies go wrong...

So excited that Rev is back on tonight. BBC2 9pm. Note to self; must finish standing committee meeting early...

Cheltenham Top 10?

Really pleased that we have been able to announce this morning my appointment as Team Vicar in Cheltenham serving St Philip and St James and The Church at Warden Hill.

http://www.saintspjleckhampton.org.uk/pages/default.asp?Sec=1

http://www.tciwh.org.uk/

Wondering what the best things are about living in Cheltenham?

All comments gratefully received!

For all the saints...

Last summer I had the opportunity to visit Ravenna in northern Italy and to see their famous Byzantine mosaics. One of the highlights was going to the Basilica of San Apollinaire Nuovo. 

This beautiful 5C. Church is lined with shimmering golden mosaics of the Saints. Near the altar is an image of Christ in the arms of Mary, flanked by angels. Beside them the three wise men bow down offering their gifts. Behind them stretches a long line of saints and martyrs robed in white that extends the full length of the Church. And it is this procession which we celebrate today.

Without these saints, we would not be here today. There is St Peter who always seemed to get it wrong but who led the Early Church. Mary Magdalene who ran to tell the Apostles the Good News on Easter Day. Stephen, the first to die for the faith. Paul who brought the good news to the gentiles. St George and countless others who died in defence of a persecuted minority religion. Augustine of North Africa who clarified the faith in the melting pot of Greek religions. Patrick and Columba who brought the good news to these shores. Augustine, the first Archbishop of Canterbury.

Catherine of Sienna, Julian of Norwich and Teresa of Avila, overwhelmed by the love of God. Francis and Clare who renewed the Church when it’s faith had grown cold. Cranmer and Ridley martyred during the Reformation. Nicholas Ferrar and George Herbert living quiet lives of holiness in rural parishes. Wesley and Newman leading revivals in the Victorian Church. Octavia Hill and Lord Shaftesbury, reaching into the slums of south London. Bonheoffer, Martin Luther King, Oscar Romero and Mother Theresa who have shown us the cost of faith in our own times. All of these have their place in that procession and we should give thanks for them this morning. 

But behind them stand others. Maybe not as tall but in that same procession nevertheless. They are those who brought us to baptism, taught us the faith and encouraged us along the way- possibly more by their lives than their words. They also include those who have worshiped and served in this Church some of whom are named on the churchwarden and vicars board by the door. And for these too we should give thanks this morning.

But this great procession stretches yet further. For behind them stand others. Others saints who seem a little confused. Saints who are dressed in their white baptismal robes yet sometimes wander from this procession.

These, it seems, are a work in progress. Saints in the refining who cannot quite believe that they should be called children of God- and yet that is what they are. This slightly rag tag end of the procession come in all shapes and sizes, from every language and nation. And if you want to know what this strange bunch look like, at the end of this mighty procession, you need do nothing more than look around you this morning.  Amen. 

To be a pilgrim

Walking 44 miles in two and a half days might not be your idea of a relaxing break. But this was my plan for a retreat in October when I made a pilgrimage to Canterbury. It began easily enough taking the train to Rochester, before shouldering my pack and heading south towards Aylesford.

I had wanted to hike the Pilgrim’s Way for many years. I had walked sections of it before but wanted to commit to something longer and, hopefully, more prayerful. I had vague recollections of the Canterbury Tales from English lessons and liked the idea of long days of walking followed by evenings beside a roaring fire.

My first day’s hike was a mere nine miles. Walking along green lanes, spotting buzzards and a dormouse, I imagined myself alongside one of Chaucer’s characters. But the ever-present sound of the M2 and the passing Eurostar reminded me that much has changed. I was making for the Carmelites at Aylesford where I was spending the night. This peaceful Friary, built of flint and thatch, nestles in a bend of the Medway. I arrived in time for evening prayer, a hot bath and some simple food.

After a Eucharist the next morning, I set out eastwards along the North Downs Way. Chaucer’s pilgrims may well have followed the route of today’s A2 and the ‘Pilgrim’s Way’ marked on our maps owes more to Victorian romanticism than medieval archaeology. Nevertheless the views south from the downs, are a great backdrop for prayer. Eventually, as dusk fell and after seventeen miles, I arrived at The Oak at Charing. Achey and sweaty I stumbled into the bar to be greeted by curious stares.

My final day’s walk brought blue skies, skylarks and yellowing poplars. Unfortunately, I also had another seventeen miles ahead of me. As I turned north-east at Boughton Lees, however, I had a sense of being on the last leg. 

Walking through King’s Wood, south of Chilham I met a mountain biker who asked me what it was in aid of? I tried to explain that I wasn’t raising money but going on a pilgrimage. Finally, I arrived in Canterbury and made my way to the Franciscan Friary for a hot bath, a meal with pudding (as it was a saints day) and prayers for a peaceful night which were duly answered.

The next morning I headed for the Cathedral and spent time praying in the ancient crypt. It was here that Thomas a Becket’s body was first laid to rest after he was killed by four of Henry II’s knights. It was this martyrdom and the miracles that followed which made Canterbury one of the most important centres of pilgrimage across Europe.

For medieval pilgrims the journey promised indulgences. For me the benefits were less exalted; an opportunity for walking, the appreciation of nature, a chance to pray and reflect and meet some interesting people. 

And maybe the sight of a priest walking an ancient pathway, might just have reminded people that pilgrims still exist.