Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Pentecost + 10 – Transfiguration – Rom 9 1-16

People who grieve for friends in trouble sometimes wish they could take their friend’s place; suffer in their place. It’s rarely possible; parents can’t swap places with their sick children; friends can’t take the place of prisoners. But it doesn’t stop us feeling it; wishing our dear ones safe and free. That’s how we meet Paul this morning. He’s just finished his argument that in Christ, the Gentiles are fully included in God’s chosen people. But now he has to deal with the obvious question; what about God’s ancient, chosen people, the Israelites. So many didn’t accept Jesus as Messiah. Today in ch 9, Paul begins his argument that they’re also fully included.

You may wonder why we spend time with this question. What do the politics of the earliest Christian communities have to do with us? One reason is that neo-Nazis and others still represent the New Testament in selective ways that rationalise their anti-Semitic views. And we know how extremist views can still take root and wreak astonishing harm. Christians need to be able to trace the real story – both so we’re protected from the lies, and so we can protect others who might get sucked in by them. We also need to learn what the New Testament teaches about handling tensions within a Christian community, and the survival of that community within a hostile wider society. That’s what Paul’s on about here.

Paul is walking a diplomatic tightrope as he writes this letter. He’s writing to the Christians of Rome – a diverse community that he didn’t found. He knows only a small number of people there personally. He’s aware of strong tensions within the Roman Christian community. Exiled Jewish Christians are returning after five years away to find their former roles and the culture of their house churches changed. There are disagreements about the way Christians should live; if Jewish customs and traditions should also be observed by Gentile Christians. And the Jewish Christians’ temporary exile from Rome was a result of tensions between them and the synagogues of Rome coming to the attention of the Emperor Claudius.

There was probably no commonly-accepted, specifically Christian authority that community members could refer to when negotiating these disputes. They had the Hebrew Bible, but the first Gospel’s still about fifteen years away. So what Paul writes to them has to be based in the scriptures they do have. And it has to be true to Christ’s teaching and example; it has to build up an inclusive community life and faith. Paul wants to help them negotiate the tensions within their community like he’s done with all the churches he’s founded elsewhere. And he has to help them function faithfully and yet live safely within a hostile, broader Roman society. It’s a diplomatic mine field!

Yet it’s a gospel of inclusion that Paul is writing – there’s no ghetto mentality on show. So in ch. 8, he concluded his argument that Gentiles Christians are in; they’re also God’s called and chosen people. Nothing can separate us from the love of God for those who are in Christ Jesus. But what if you don’t accept Jesus? Roman Christians are in contact – sometimes conflict – with Synagogues, and the question is obvious. What about people in the Synagogues? Has God withdrawn the ancient promises to them, and chosen someone else?

Last week, we saw that the way God chooses ^8.29 was Paul’s focus. And in today’s ch. 9, he raises the issue of our choice; asking particularly about people who don’t choose Christ? The last verse we read today is our key. Paul says that ¹⁶…it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God who shows mercy. Seems simple, but we who come later are in a minefield here too. And it’s not one of Paul’s making. It’s been laid in the centuries since; interpreters of Paul’s teachings who sought to define the limits of God’s grace.

Augustine of Hippo wrongly read parts of this letter ^{(eg 8.20, 33; 9.10-13, 18)} to come up with a doctrine called double predestination – that before we’re even born, some of us are predestined for salvation, and some for damnation. This was later adopted by Calvin and others during the Reformation. It misrepresents Paul’s argument by taking one element in it without its refutation later in the letter. ^(11.25-26) Paul’s style of argument was to posit one side of the issue and pursue it for a time before offering its counter-argument and then coming to a conclusion. It’s wrong to take either side out of its other side – and particularly wrong to ignore the conclusion Paul has drawn. For Paul God is inclusive, not exclusive – and in particular, Paul will conclude that God’s promises to Israel will definitely be fulfilled. Antisemitism has no basis in Paul; nor does anyone’s attempt to decide who is outside God’s love.

There’s a correlation between the passages we’ve heard from Romans in recent weeks and the readings we’ve been hearing from Genesis. Paul is reminding us of the second children we’ve met in those stories – Isaac born after Ishmael, and Jacob born after Esau – second children who unexpectedly receive the blessing normally reserved for a firstborn. For Paul, it’s like the way we Gentiles have been chosen to receive the blessing which was originally promised to Israel. But Paul’s proclaiming a radical Gospel of inclusion: the promised blessing is available to all. He will argue that the descendants of God’s first people – the ancient, chosen people of Israel – are still the bearers of God’s blessing and love too.

Which all underlines that key line in verse 16 that we remembered earlier: …it depends not on human will or exertion, but on God who shows mercy. We can do nothing to earn God’s blessing; nothing to deserve it. It’s just there – offered with an open, loving and amazingly forbearing hand. I pray that we might take hold of that love, and be so transfigured by its goodness, and respond with such gladness and gratitude, that we bring the light of God’s healing love, kindness, joy and peace to all families of Earth.  Amen

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Pentecost + 9A – Rom 8 26-39 – Comprehending God’s love for all

Prayer is a conversation; we listen and we speak. It probably doesn’t help much if I say that, I know. I remember plenty of fruitless times trying to hear God speak when I was younger. It was as frustrating as meditation is for me; I was hopeless at it. Thoughts and worries poured into the silence and I ended up exhausted by all the emotion and problem-solving when I was meant to find stillness and refreshment. And I didn’t think I heard God. I’ve learnt a lot since then, and I think Paul describes the learning process in today’s reading from Romans.

Prayer is a conversation; we listen and we speak. Okay; speaking I can do. But what’s the trick with this listening bit? That’s where Paul starts with us today. He tells us that the Spirit helps us in our weakness. He says when we’re unable to pray, the Spirit prays for us, offering up whatever it is that we can’t find the words to pray.

Those prayers of the Spirit are described as sighs / groans too deep for words. (You might remember last week creation groaning with us. ^{vv. 22-23}) We might have thought we weren’t really praying if we couldn’t tell our feelings and our hopes and our thanks to God – if all that came out was helpless groaning. But that’s exactly what was needed. Paul is telling us that’s alright; that God hears it as real prayer. The Spirit dwells within us and knows from the inside precisely how we feel. ^5.5 God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. So those groans we hear are coming from our hearts; the Spirit dwelling there and offering them to the Father on our behalf. Hear that, and we hear God speaking. There’s the beginning of our learning to hear God’s side of our praying; the Holy Spirit speaking from within our hearts.

²⁷ And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

God searches our heart and knows our deepest prayers because the indwelling Spirit prays them with us and for us from right in t/here. God understands those prayers, even when they only seem to us to be inarticulate groans. Jesus bore an execution which wrings precisely that shocking noise from its victim; God knows it from the inside. That’s the divine model of care; true empathy. God’s heart hears the groans of the Spirit crying out from within our hearts. We are called to listen for that conversation of love – for us and for all creation.

Our learning to pray – to know it as a conversation – it’s a process of hearing and entering into a much wider conversation. It’s about more than us; creation is groaning, and our prayers are part of that. Creation is our responsibility. God called us to care for Earth; to serve Earth. So our prayer is both personal and cosmic.

This is very important to understand, because of the way some Christians have misused the next verse. ²⁸ We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. Often, you’ll meet people who’ve been in tragic situations and the only care they received from a fellow Christian was this part of the verse – all things work together for good for those who love God. Whoever offered them this trite brush-off simply didn’t want to risk being with them in their pain.

But this verse isn’t talking about the tragic event which caused someone’s pain and grief. ‘All things’ doesn’t mean all happenings. It means all creation. We’re meant to work together with the universe for God’s good purposes. How wonderful!

That’s not the only hurtful misuse of this passage. The next two verses have copped it too.

²⁹ …those whom God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family. ³⁰ And those whom he predestined he also called; and those whom he called he also justified; and those whom he justified he also glorified.

From this and other passages ^{(eg Rom 11)} influential Christian thinkers have drawn the conclusion that before they’re even born, some people are chosen for salvation and others for damnation. It’s clear that Paul had no such thing in mind. Firstly, his focus is on the call: God’s call to people to be like Jesus, and for the answering, enabling response of the Spirit calling from within us – the conversation that is prayer. And secondly, for Paul, the language of choosing and call echoes Abraham’s call and Jesus’ coming. It’s a declaration that the promised blessing to/through Abraham of all families of earth is fulfilled in Jesus. And this makes Paul confident to offer us the wonderful question and answer dialogue that follows.

³¹ What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? ³² He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else? ³³ Who will bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. ³⁴ Who is to condemn? It is Christ Jesus, who died, yes, who was raised, who is at the right hand of God, who indeed intercedes for us.

What a wonderful pile up of graces! The counsel for the prosecution is sent by the judge to become one and the same as both victim and accused, then returns to stand by the judge to plead on our behalf. Who/what will separate us from the love of Christ? Paul lists some of the calamities that have befallen him ^(35b) and some of the miseries that have plagued the Jews. ⁽³⁶⁾ Then he answers his own question: ³⁷ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

So finally, every obstacle cleared away: I am convinced says Paul. This is Paul’s testimony to something he has incontrovertibly experienced.

What might separate us from God’s love? Here; try another list: he starts with death…death which it has dogged us since chapter 5; this is its last appearance in Romans!

Death, life, angels, rulers, the present, the future, powers, heights, depths – these things of the end times, these marks of an enslaved creation – they’re barriers no more. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

That question he asked – Who will separate us from the love of Christ? – it’s not even a question any more. The gap has closed and finally we are free to hear that the love of Jesus for us is one and the same as the love of God for us and for all creation. God’s commitment to us in Jesus is central and final.

This is the heart of Paul’s theology; this is the heart of his Gospel. Nothing can separate us from God’s love. Anyone can pray knowing God is like that! Amen

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Pentecost + 8A  Rom 8.12-25

You’re shopping, hopeful of a bargain. But they say, ‘What you see is what you get.’ When they say that, it’s a way of keeping your hopes in check. They don’t want you to burden them with too much expectation. Please, they say, just accept what you see now. But even so, you hope. And hope is indomitable. It sends your caution to the wind, and lets you dream. Hope’s an extraordinary gift. It can inspire resilience and joy, persistence and patience where otherwise there might be worry and bitterness. Paul wrote about this at the end of our reading from Romans today: ^8.24 … in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? ²⁵ But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

In hope we were saved. One of the greatest stories of hope in Jewish hearts is the story of the Exodus: the story of God’s people being rescued from slavery in Egypt, and journeying towards freedom, towards the Promised Land. But reading the story, your most persistent emotion is one of hope. Because despite their escape from slavery, there’s a life-long journey before their children will finally enter their promised home. Their hope and faith ebb and flow along the entire journey. Is Paul echoing this memory when he writes his words about hope to the Christians of Rome – ^8.24 in hope we were saved.

I think so. Paul does proclaim that we are saved by the death and resurrection of Jesus, and that the Spirit of Christ has come to dwell within our hearts. Yet we’re still on the journey of mortal life. So we’re caught in the space that theologians call the already and the not yet. And as we saw a few weeks ago, even for Paul, that’s anything but a picnic. Our old selves constantly struggle to reassert control – old habits of mind and behaviour take charge despite our will to have the Spirit transform us. That transforming – which Paul calls sanctification – is a slow journey of that gift of the Spirit, gradually transforming and renewing our wills.

In the Church, we mark a person’s receiving this gift in the sacrament of Baptism. Our baptism marks our adoption as God’s children, and that we have become full members of the Body of Christ. We enter a covenant with Jesus and with each other. And each week, we re-affirm this covenant with Jesus and with each other in the sacrament of Holy Communion.

But throughout our lives, we face a constant choice between a self-centred orientation (flesh) or a God-centred orientation (Spirit).

Last week, we heard Paul underline the significance of this on-going choice for Spirit over flesh. ^8.6 To set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. Today Paul starts to describe what happens for us when we make the choice to set our minds on the Spirit.

Verses 12-17 tell us that unlike the flesh (selfishness), the Spirit doesn’t make slaves of us, but rather makes us God’s children. The Spirit, received in Baptism, marks our adoption as God’s children. Paul says this means we can address God as intimately and trustingly as Jesus did. ¹⁵ When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ ¹⁶ it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, ¹⁷ and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ. … Abba … Jesus’ Aramaic heart language … now ours.

Remember Paul’s writing to a twin community, Jewish and Gentile Christians, where the Jewish Christians would see themselves as God’s natural, chosen children. Paul’s calling them to see that we Gentile believers are being afforded that astonishing honour as well.

But with the great honour comes challenge; Jesus didn’t escape suffering, and we shouldn’t expect to escape it either. We are joint heirs with Christ if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.

It was a dangerous struggle to live a life of faith back then, and not much has changed. On top of the inner struggle, there’s an outward struggle which is most obvious in the social media world. There people of faith are hounded and bullied for their convictions by anonymous trolls. And in the physical world, people who champion care for the vulnerable and downtrodden are confronted with the demand to compromise their values, if not to shut up completely.

Paul names us God’s daughters and sons. He identifies our task of faithful witness to compassion and justice as something much more than a personal journey. He sees it as something of cosmic significance. Verses 19-22 recall where God said in Gen 3.17 that the ground was cursed because of the selfish ambitions of the first humans. That curse is daily more obvious in what’s happening to Earth now. Paul tells us that creation longs for us to be revealed as God’s true children.¹⁹ When that happens, he says, creation will be freed from its bondage to decay and together with humanity, will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.²¹

This is our calling. The groaning and waiting – the struggle with hope in the last four verses – they link us with God’s people who’d been freed from slavery in Egypt, yet struggled on their long journey to the Promised Land.

As we – freed slaves ourselves – as we travel the journey into life and peace, the way we bear faithful witness to God’s priorities is of cosmic significance. God’s heart yearns for us to champion the health of creation, to advocate for justice for the downtrodden and dispossessed in this land and more widely, and to do all we can to ensure that all are welcomed in God’s Church; all revealed equally to be God’s children.

In hope we were saved. May we open ourselves more and more to the Spirit within and among us. May we vindicate that hope by the hope we share, and by the hope we inspire in others who wait with creation for freedom from bondage to decay; freedom to live in the peace of God’s love. Amen

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Romans 7 14-25: July 9 2023 – Round 3;  Alone in the ring? The inner conflict.

I find this part of Romans 7 shocking. Paul sounds like a heroin addict: ‘I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate…’ Maybe for those of us who know some sort of addiction, these words resonate. But for those who don’t, we wonder what sort of battle with sin Paul is wrestling with. Is this a flashback to his pre-Christian life? Or is he saying that this battle goes on? How we answer this question affects what sort of church we will be.

By that, I mean what do we think of ourselves as followers of Jesus when we fall short of the promises made at our baptism? The early church was terribly rigorous about the discipline – necessarily so. For a persecuted Church – then as now – the risk to the Church from anyone who betrayed their promises was a life-and-death matter. Apostasy – someone renouncing their faith – was a blow to the faith of all within the community. And if that apostasy was achieved at the hands of torturers, it could mean death for every member.

It’s different in an environment like ours. I spoke with a young friend this week who’d been asked not to return to his church because of a brief relapse in his substance addiction after several years of being clean. What sort of church should we be? One that recognises reality and works with it in prayer and pastoral commitment – the ongoing battle Paul describes himself facing in this chapter – or a church which is focussed on maintaining its appearance of purity by discarding any people who threaten their perfect record?

Paul talks about sin in Romans 7 as an enemy personified; one who causes a state of deathly paralysis in us. He writes that our old self (pre-baptism) was entirely in the power of this enemy, subjects of the realm of sin and death; a realm where God’s authority isn’t acknowledged. As citizens of that realm, Paul says we were governed by a power that was not of God.

What could free us from that power? Paul asks, what if we learnt the 613 laws of God’s realm, and tried to obey them? Would that rescue us? No, he says; learning the Law only exposes our plight to view. It doesn’t rescue us from the realm we live in. Paul writes ¹¹ … sin, seizing an opportunity in the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me.

The sin Paul used earlier in this chapter ^{(Rom. 7.8)} to illustrate his argument is coveting – wanting what belongs rightfully to someone else. It’s an appropriate one for western Christians to consider as far as sins go. Our society sometimes seems to be built on a foundation of covetousness. We’ve made coveting into a virtue. And we fall prey to it. It’s difficult to imagine the harm in just wanting something. The only danger really seems to be addiction. What harm is there in moderation?

But once this natural inclination has been named as something that separates us from God – something that leads to death – then we feel the tension. I long for something, and I imagine that once I have it, I’ll be satisfied. But have I the right to spend money on this when someone else does without basic necessities? I’m complicit in a world order which is predicated on cheap labour and ever-growing consumption, regardless of the harm it does to others or to the environment. Paul tackles this ‘guilt of the gap’ issue at a personal level in the part of the passage we’ve just heard, and I’ll say something more about that in a minute.

But an important thing we should continue bear in mind while we read this letter is that Paul is writing to a community where he doesn’t know many people at all.

The main thing he knows about the Roman Christian community is that there’s tension between the two main groups; Gentile Christians and Jewish Christians. The Gentiles have far more power than the Jews right then, because the Jewish Christians are returning from being expelled from Rome by the emperor Claudius. What is coveted in this community, then, is probably the habit of power and influence rather than personal possessions.

Corporate or collective sin is a trap, isn’t it? We might be decent, well-meaning individuals who wouldn’t begrudge anyone anything of ours that they needed. But as a society, we’re different. We elect governments to act in what we call our national self-interest. Our farmers and businesses know what it is to be victims of a more powerful country’s national self-interest. And there are many South Pacific islanders who know what it is to come up against Australian national self-interest.

This NAIDOC week, we’re reminded again of the toll of collective self-interest on First Nations people here. And we’ve seen distressing examples of self-interest in the behaviour of PWC, and the Robodebt tragedy as well. But although we shouldn’t just think of sin and judgement in personal terms, we need to do so in one particular sense.

We believe that in baptism, we die to our old self. The allegiance of our old self to the realm of the law of sin and death could only be broken by the death of one partner in the arrangement. The miracle of baptism is that we are granted that death – death to the law of sin and death, only to rise to new life in Christ’s realm.

But although our loyalties have changed 180º through our baptism, there are habits of mind and behaviour which will take our entire lives to turn around. There are things that old monastics called besetting sins; the most powerful addictions and prejudices that Christian individuals and communities struggle with. And this is the struggle we encountered just now in today’s reading from Romans 7.

That’s the challenge; but there’s also comfort. As a community, and as individuals, we can face our besetting sins and find comfort and strength to tackle them. Let’s hear again the words that Jesus spoke: ‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.’

As Paul will tell us next week, there is no condemnation in this Gospel! Thanks be to God for that assurance!    Amen

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

The approach to Romans 6: Round 2; dying and rising.

Gen 22 1-14, Rom 6 12-23, Matt 10 40-42

I realise that the story of Abraham and Isaac leaves us all pretty shocked – and we can’t discuss it much now. All I want to say about it today is to tell you about the most powerful encounter I’ve ever had with this terrible, bewildering story. It was in the Holy Sepulchre Church in Jerusalem, in the twin chapel of Golgotha/Calvary – revered as the site of Jesus’ crucifixion. After praying at the altar, I turned to go, but suddenly saw a huge mosaic on the wall. It depicts the moment where Abraham is standing over Isaac with his knife raised, and the angel stops him.

The connection between that story and that place – where this time, the only Son was not spared – struck me with extraordinary force. Jesus and Isaac knew the same terror; God and Abraham knew the same grief.

The mysteries of sacrifice and grace are a theme to savour in today’s readings. But for the moment, we return to our series on Romans. In the readings from Romans 6, both last week and this morning, Paul teaches on the one hand that death is the consequence of sin – alienation from God. And on the other hand, Jesus offers life by the gift of his death and resurrection. Let’s remember how Paul got us here.

In the earlier chapters, Paul said sin alienated everyone from God. ^(3.9) God addressed this not by punishing us, but by coming to us in Jesus Christ. God’s grace was shown by Jesus coming to be with us as we are. There was no precondition that we be acceptable before he’d come for us. So we heard in ch 5 that God proved his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. ^(5.8)

God’s astonishing act of solidarity – of atonement (at-one-ment) with us – was something Paul described as God’s free gift to us of justification/righteousness ^(5.18-21). We often think of justification as something we do; defensively justifying ourselves. But Paul is using this expression as something God does; not us – it’s a free gift God offers us. Do we trust ourselves to take hold of that gift?

Justification and righteousness have a lot to do with ethics, but actually they’re more about orientation – the direction we face in. When we write or type something and we rule up our work or set the margins to make them line up, we say we’re justifying the margins. That’s very close to what Paul means by justification; having God there in Jesus by our side. When we walk beside Jesus, and we face the same way he does, gradually, we’re re-oriented; we see things more and more the way Jesus sees them. Our perspective matches that of Jesus, and gradually, so does our life. Paul describes this in today’s reading as our being sanctified. ^{6.19, 22}

In giving us this attention, Jesus is saying we’re trustworthy, that we belong and that we are not just acceptable, but deeply cherished. When you have a companion who is so affirming of you, you cannot but respond with warmth. But as this has to do with Jesus’ death and resurrection, it’s hard for us to grasp, isn’t it.

There’s an insight that came to me years ago in hospital. When we’re on our own cross – in hospital or in despair or in loneliness, wondering where God is – we can look to our side and see our God beside us in Jesus, there on that friendly neighbouring cross of his. Let’s hear Karl Barth again – ‘… the one who justifies another takes their side and sees that all is well with them. God takes the lost cause of humanity and makes that cause his own in Jesus Christ.’

Remember, God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. ^{Rom 5.8} God got alongside humanity in Jesus to justify us; to turn our lives around; to show us which way to face by standing beside us and facing that way. And in Jesus, God stands by us particularly in our times of suffering; right to the end, helping us know which way to turn to find healing and wholeness.

God loves us, and always has. God is beside us through everything. So let’s take any blinkers off, and sense God beside us; see which way to turn.

Paul asks if when we’ve recognised God doing all that for us, are we free to go on living in alienation from God, if that’s what we want. ^{6.1-2, 15} Paul says no; it’s ridiculous. It’s like being cured of lung cancer and then resuming packet-a-day smoking.

Paul reminds us the meaning of our baptism; we’ve been buried with Jesus by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. ^6.4 Things are different now. We’ve got this new life, what can we make of it this time. (A friend who survived a house fire and a year in the burns unit asked God why. What was this new life for? Suddenly, his very humble, ordinary life was blessed with a mysterious new purpose to seek out and live.)

Jesus has given each of us a new life; in our baptism, we have died to our old self and emerged, born again into a new life. Our new Christ life transforms us; the primary call of those born again is to be sanctified – to become Christ for our neighbours. We have each been ordained for this at our baptism; every one of us.

This ordination calls us to live decent, kind lives. But not out of fear of punishment. Rather, we do so out of gratitude for the free gift of new life; gratitude for the ongoing, transforming gift of Christ’s company with us every step of life’s journey. This is not a burden, it’s a celebration of the free gift of God – eternal life in Christ.

So what are we going to do about it, now that we know we’re all ordained for ministry? At one level, the answer is as diverse as we are, but I do think there’s a first principle that today’s gospel (Matt 10.40-42) gives us. Jesus said, ‘Whoever welcomes you welcomes me.’ People who meet us are meant to meet Jesus in us. That’s the point of the sanctification that Paul wrote about.

It’s up to each of us to offer up those characteristics of ours which need changing. Good friends will help us discern them. But many of them can be washed away by adopting an attitude of gratitude – that’s easy to remember isn’t it. Grateful people are generous, glad, inspiring, humble, kind, loving – Christ-like. Let’s wake up each day and seek to be mindful of what we’re grateful for.

Finally, the other thing about sanctification is that it isn’t just about me or you as individuals, but about us. Paul wrote this letter to a community, and as much as he exhorted people to offer themselves to be sanctified, it’s fairer to say that he was exhorting a community to receive this transformation. So how do we, St John’s, need to develop, to walk in newness of life? It’s something that requires a community self-audit, isn’t it. So watch this space.  Amen

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Romans – dipping our toe in: God’s love is given, not earned. Pent + 4A Romans 6.1b-11 and Matt 10.21-39.

Often in the media or in a courtroom, somebody will be quoted to make it sound as if they’ve said something shocking and incriminating. But when they demonstrate what the actual context was, it turns out that they’ve been badly misrepresented. Think of that woman where carefully selected excerpts from her diary saw her wrongly convicted of murdering her children.

Context is serious business; it’s really important when it comes to interpreting words accurately. For example, in the Gospel passage we just heard, it could sound as if Jesus is prescribing the suffering that must happen to any disciple who’s out evangelising. But really, it’s not saying that. These sayings have actually been written down by a Christian community which is experiencing pushback – persecution and alienation from their families – and they’re remembering sayings of Jesus which help them come to terms with these difficulties. It happened to him, so it’s only logical that it could also happen to those who are doing the same work as Jesus did. But it’s not necessarily going to happen to everyone. Mission isn’t necessarily proven to be genuine by the experiences of persecution and family breakdown. But it’s good to be warned of the possibility. Again, context is really important to accurate interpretation.

But I’m not preaching on the Gospel today. I’m starting a series of sermons on Paul’s letter to the Romans. We’ll be hearing excerpts from this very important letter right through until September. And hearing disembodied chunks of a complex argument – no context, and no exposition of it – seems to me to be unworthy of this letter. So let’s embark on a journey through Romans, and let me start you off with a cheeky parallel bit of imaginary context to get us in the right headspace.

Imagine out of the blue one Sunday, ten strangers come and join this parish. It turns out they’re the entire church council of a Seventh Day Adventist congregation. They’ve left it because of some dispute with their central church hierarchy. But they’re committed Christians, and they’re determined to be fully involved with their newly adopted community, and without delay.

As it happens, on their first Sunday, during the notices, a parish dinner is announced, and people are asked to volunteer to meet after Church to organize it. All ten come to the meeting, and the fun begins.

‘No, no, no; it can’t be on a Saturday.’ …

‘But we’ve always…’

‘What do you mean it can only be a vegetarian meal…!?’

And the fun continues.

A year or so later, again out of the blue, St John’s receives a long, theological letter from a prominent evangelist. It’s a pointed letter. She writes about how Christianity that’s factional alienates people from God. There’s a lot about Anglican-Adventist relations. (Has somebody told her something?) And at the end, she says she’ll be coming to stay with us soon, and she’d like our support to fund her next mission.

This letter would be something like the Roman Christians’ introduction to the apostle Paul was; his unexpected letter from which we heard a reading just now. He knows a lot about them, and he’s familiar with churches torn by factions. As a missionary and a church planter, Paul had to deal with tensions between rich and poor Christians, between Jews and Christians, pagans and Christians, and between Jewish and Gentile (non-Jewish) factions in most of the churches he dealt with.

This was a particular issue in Rome. As well as internal issues between Jewish and Gentile Christians, there were major tensions between Synagogue and Church which were so public that ultimately they came to the Emperor’s notice. In 49 CE, the Emperor Claudius proclaimed an edict expelling all Jews from Rome; all Jews, including the Christian ones.

This edict remained in force until Claudius’ death in 54 CE. Then, finally, the Jews and the Jewish Christians were able to return home. But they would have come back to a very different type of church. While they were away, the Gentile Christian leadership would have set up a less synagogue-oriented style of community organization. ^{(Byrne, Romans p.12)}

This would have been very difficult for the returning Jewish Christians. They’d have wanted to re-claim their accustomed positions of leadership within the Church, and change things back to what they were used to – a synagogue style of religious practice.

And the Gentile Christians who’d stayed in Rome would have felt that the returning Jewish Christians were trying to Judaize the Church. They would have resisted that. It’s very hard for different groups to accept each-other’s customs, isn’t it. Remember those imaginary Adventist newcomers. This very much shaped the way Paul wrote to the Christian community in Rome?

After a greeting that reads like an impressive CV, ^(1.1-7) he thanks God for the famous community of faith he knows them to be, and how long he’s wanted to be with them. ^(1.8-15) Then he states the Gospel as this letter is going to present it – salvation is a free gift of God to Jews and Gentiles, received only by faith. ^(1.16-17)

We might ask, salvation from what? A quick glance at the headlines should make that pretty clear – human-induced climate catastrophe, species extinction, abuse of women, children, ethnic minorities, well over 100 m displaced persons.

Humanity is deeply sick, deeply alienated from reality, from each other and from God. Paul details the evidence from his own time, and from its ethical and cultural perspective, to say that all people, Jew and Gentile, fall short of God’s standard. ^{(1.18—3.20)}

These are not easy words to hear; and they’re not meant to be. Paul wants his readers to own that we are ALL alienated from God, and no effort of ours can make any difference. He says Jewish people have no special preference deal with God that they can call on, and nor can Gentile people claim ignorance as a defence. Creation itself bears witness to God. We are sick because of our alienation from God. And if left unchecked, it will just go on through generations.

Finally, at ch 3.21, there’s a turning point. Three words, grace, faith and justification start to make their presence felt. The faith of Abraham which God reckoned as righteousness was until then, purely Jewish property. But now Paul claims that faith for Jew and Gentile alike as the forerunner of our justification by God’s freely given grace in Jesus. That gift of grace is something we take hold of through another gift from God to us, our faith.

It’s like a courtroom where our judge has become our counsel for the defence. The Swiss theologian Karl Barth talked beautifully about this idea of God justifying us: the one who justifies another takes their side and sees that all is well with them. God takes the lost cause of humanity and makes that cause his own in Jesus Christ. (cf the father of the two shocking sons in the parable of the prodigal son)

Last week, in ch. 5, we heard that ⁸ … God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. There were no conditions; nothing like if you behave in such-and-such a way, I’ll save you. … God proves his love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us.

God loves all people; God wants communion with all people. In Jesus, God experiences our alienation; in Jesus, God comes to be at one with us, and takes our alienation on himself. He takes our alienation to the Cross and to the grave. And he rises again, free from it, and invites us to share that freedom with him.

That’s a lot of words and concepts, but at the heart of it is this; God loves everyone. We don’t earn that love; our part is just to accept it. And as we grow into a deeper appreciation of the grace and the freedom that is the gift of God’s love, our gratitude shines brighter within us and through us. We are transformed – sanctified.

Today’s reading from Romans challenges us to be transformed by that gift; not to despise it or take it for granted, but to cherish it, to allow God’s love to transform us, and to share it. God loves everyone. Keep sharing that. Amen.

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Pentecost + 3  Matt 9.35 – 10.15, Gen 18.1-15

When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. ^{Mt 9.36} People responded to that; they felt his compassion. And we still do. It makes a real difference. So many times I’m with a person who’s very sick or close to death and they say, “I don’t know how anyone faces something like this without Him! It would be so terribly lonely and sad. I’m so blessed.” … They’re suffering, but they know they’re blessed. They’re okay

Jesus came to ordinary people – to his own people. In his time, they were manipulated and crushed – collateral damage, sandwiched between an overseas power and local, self-serving elites. Not much changes, does it? Ordinary people’s well-being never figures in big power games. Simple families and villages: a drought year, an illness could paralyse them; tip them over the edge from subsistence into ruin. Our news here is filled with situations like that today; families living in cars – the working poor.

The ordinary people Jesus went to longed for God’s promised anointed one to come and help them? Where was God in their pain? How could the loving, just God of the prophets allow this to happen? Jesus did come … he came to give them God’s deep, real love. Ordinary people now also feel harassed and helpless; they need to know God’s love for them. They’re searching. But they’re not looking for Jesus because they don’t know about him. Why? His love is free, and there are Christians all over the place who’ve been commissioned to share his love. The harvest is plentiful. Are the reapers asleep?

Tragically, in our time and in our society, the love of Jesus is not even on the radar for many ordinary people in Adelaide. I’m one of the baby-boomer generation, and most of my peers in that generation had no exposure to the idea that God loves us. Parents of my friends – the WW II generation – had asked the same question that the villagers around Jesus asked – how could a God who is meant to be loving allow such suffering? And hearing no credible answer, they saw no point in introducing their children to faith. That means many of our grandchildren – the grandchildren of the baby boomer generation – are now the third generation of Australians who’ve never even heard of the Gospel; never heard that Jesus loves them. All they hear about the church is our institutional disgrace; as if that’s all we are. That can’t be allowed to paralyse us.

When they are suffering or dying, these lost generations won’t have the chance to say what I hear from people like you: “I don’t know how anyone faces something like this without Jesus! It would be so terribly lonely and sad. I’m so blessed.” They can’t say that. Yet Jesus came for these ordinary people. He had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

They’ve been blocked from God’s grace – maybe by the tragic effect of war; maybe because the people around them follow the cult of youth, beauty and wealth, maybe because people who could have made a difference didn’t. Maybe it’s because of the inaction of us church-goers who could have shown them Christ’s love. We used to have common sayings like God love you; God bless you; God be with you that one’s hidden in the word ‘goodbye’. It’s so simple to let people know that God loves them.

The church began because God didn’t want people locked out of Love. So in Jesus, God came to us. He went about all the cities and villages, teaching in synagogues, and telling the good news of the kingdom, and curing every disease and every sickness. ^9.35 Just because it’s now the 21^st century doesn’t mean people don’t suffer any less than we did back then; and material progress doesn’t mean our spiritual life is no longer necessary. There are still people all around us, looking for meaning, looking for love, looking for whoever it is that they can thank for the miracle of their being. And every week, we declare here that we are the body of Christ; Christ, hiding in full view, mute!

We are called to respond to people’s genuine search. They’re suffering, and a genuine response begins with compassion. Today, we saw Jesus show his disciples how it’s done. He went out to these people and when he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them; he made a difference. He showed God’s love – openly. This story challenges us to share God’s love too. That list of disciples we just read, this story challenges us to remember that your name and mine were added to their honour-roll at our baptism. We’ve grown up learning about the love of God for us and for all families of the earth – again today, we saw how Jesus felt, and how he acted on his compassion. In the Jewish – Christian tradition, if we’re taught something, we’re obliged to pass it on.

Jesus’ disciples – ordinary people like us – saw what Jesus did, and they heard what he said. His love was palpable. It’s probably why they answered his call to be his disciples. Today, we saw Jesus send his disciples out on their first mission. A great teacher, he taught by example; he taught with passion. His disciples could be in no doubt about why he sent them out; no doubt about the depth of commitment he asked of them. They went out bearing his love; emulating his compassion; sharing the blessing there is in knowing Jesus. And we are sent out to do just that, and with just that commitment; sent out into an enormous harvest. We have three generations to reach.

The reason for the call of Abraham and Sarah was that through them, all families of Earth might be blessed. The call to the Church is the same one. God’s Mission is the very reason the disciples or the Church exist. Mission is not optional. It’s what we are called for. So let’s start with the grandchildren. God be with you!        Amen

The Rev’d Dr. Susan F. Straub

Introduction

This long weekend, we celebrate the official birthday of King Charles III for the first time. Yesterday, a single RAAF F-35A Lightning II flew in salute past Government House in Sydney. Next Saturday, 17^th June, we’ll be able to watch on our TVs the annual ceremony of the ‘Trooping of the Colour’, otherwise known as the ‘King’s Birthday Parade’.  1,400 officers and guards, 200 horses, and massed bands will march down Horse Guards’ Parade in London to Buckingham Palace where His Majesty will take their salute.

Listening to talk hosts on the radio, it seems many people have been referring to tomorrow as the Queen’s birthday because that’s what it’s always been as far as they can remember. Adjusting to big changes takes time and an understanding of the new reality. Perhaps this is especially so in the thoughts and perceptions of those who surround a person who has changed in some way or is saying or doing things contrary to expectations.

On this second Sunday of Pentecost, what used to be the Tenth Ordinary Sunday, we celebrate the new life that we know and that as the Body of Christ we have to offer those around us. When a person comes or is brought as a child to meet God in Jesus, the point of entry to that new life is recognised and celebrated with ceremony. Baptism is the sacrament of sealing our dying to a life of senses in thrall to survival and normal human pleasures only and rising to a life of transcendent meaning and spiritual belonging: a new life.

Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

Matthew’s gospel this morning tells us about some kinds of real-life experiences that prepare the soul. We, too, may have experienced physical or mental suffering, consequences perhaps of greed, longing for an identity or status, for the assurance of righteousness and worthiness, for there to be more to life, instead of “Well, is that it, then”! or maybe a deep gnawing hunger for love that’s steadfastly faithful, deep and wide enough to swim in freely just as we are.

As we look back over our lives we may see something of ourselves in Matthew, the hated collector of Roman taxes and socially excluded (except of course by other tax collectors and rascals), in the respectable and successful man who’s lost someone dear and beloved, excluded from life with her by death; and in the woman who had probably for most of the past twelve years kept to herself afraid to go out and unable to participate in religious festivals and traditions with her family, excluded from the spiritual life found in community rituals.

But new life in Jesus not only happens by being open to God’s love and faithfulness whether living with the social consequences of having chosen to work in a despised occupation. Or desperate to save a beloved child lost to us. Or suffering an unmentionable disability. Although this is so often the way of spiritual rebirth. But we can also see that in Jesus, spiritual life is an adventure with novel situations testing our faith and not without the hazards associated with quest.

We easily understand that tax collectors, sinners, and those rendered ritually ‘unclean’ by a contagious disease, or smelly discharge would not have been welcomed into a circle of companionship.  But sandwiched between social and biological uncleanness in this reading is the encounter which seems odd.  Doesn’t it strike you that as Jesus was teaching “For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners”, suddenly a leader of the synagogue came in and knelt before him pleading? Is this irony? Or condemnation of those who are righteous and respectable? What is this situation telling us? Does Jesus stick to his guns and refuse to do what the man in humility and desperation asked of him? A righteous man, not a sinner? No, Jesus got up and followed him, and his disciples came, too! But let’s dig deeper into this. This man, a leader of the synagogue came to Jesus asking him to enter his house and lay his hand on the daughter, who he thought was dead, so that she would live. Now, Nicodemus had come to see Jesus at night, so no-one who mattered would see him. Well, all right, it didn’t really matter if people of no account saw him like those eating dinner at Matthew’s house. But he asked Jesus to come to his house, enter, and touch his dead child, knowing that Jesus would become ritually unclean by doing so. No wonder he knelt! Like sinners and the ritually unclean, the bereaved leader of the synagogue was experiencing the intense aloneness and loneliness of being cut off. The call of love in hope for the future, and in faith in Jesus, brought him. Above all else, he was as human in his need as the sinners and the unclean. God is just and impartial.

Romans 4:13-25

St. Paul in his letter to the Romans teaches us, as spiritual descendants of Abraham, we have not an inheritance in law, but in faith. We believe that our God as just, impartial, and abounding in steadfast loving kindness towards us, even to suffering and death. Paul put into words what is different about Jesus’ teaching from what was commonly understood in his day about our relationship with God and those around us.

If law is broken, punishment is due to enforce it, satisfy it, and restore its wholeness. Its power is based, simply put, on praising what is right and condemning what is wrong. This is aimed to produce obedience as in the totalitarian regimes of today. One who breaks the law is an offender and, if conscientious, knows the pain of guilt and self-loathing.

However, if faith is broken then reconciliation is due to heal and restore a relationship, whether between God and us, our friends and neighbours and us, nature and us, and even with ourselves. Its power is in the constancy of love, faith, and hope for the future God has for us and which empowers us to reproduce, bring new life to others, just as Abraham and Sarah eventually reproduced and brought many descendants into being. Just as Jesus and so many of our saints and the faithful have done by loving their unloved neighbours.

Conclusion

New life in Christ, like physical birth, is ongoing. Jesus teaches us that in Him we have eternal life, a continual renewal, dropping what once seemed to be or to work and adjusting to the new realities of our era and circumstances with wisdom and courage, both personally and as the Body of Christ. We witnessed King Charles III make such an adjustment at his coronation by doing the previously unthinkable: welcoming leaders of other Christian traditions, and of other major faiths to join in the ceremonial celebrations. With our ceremonial sacrament of Eucharist, we come together like soldier guards, as it were, bearing the flags of faith, hope, and love to salute our God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, seeing ourselves in our neighbours, loving our common humanity and, ultimately, the life of our Earth in which we and all things share

Archbishop Geoffrey Smith

I know today is called Trinity Sunday, but I tend to prefer to call it ‘God’ Sunday. Now that the Easter season is completed, we can look back and reflect on the way God has been revealed to the world in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, and the Holy Spirit who Jesus describes as His spirit. Trinity Sunday is almost a summing up, a concluding Sunday as we look forward to continuing as disciples of Jesus, sharing in his mission in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Sometimes it feels like Trinity Sunday is about mathematics, 3 in 1 and 1 in 3 and all that, but Trinity Sunday isn’t about mathematics it’s about mission. Trinity Sunday is about sharing in the mission of God. Getting on with it.

 The gospel reading this morning from Matthew’s gospel, one of the four commissionings in the gospels, puts it plainly. Jesus starts by saying to his disciples, “all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me”, and then says: ‘Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always to the end of the age”.

 Jesus commissions the disciples to go and make more disciples. A disciple of Jesus is to learn from Jesus. To be shaped in their life and attitudes and priorities to be more and more like Jesus. To continue Jesus’ work. To be witnesses for him. Jesus’ mission was to share the mission of God. So that’s what his disciples do.

 The stunning thing is that we are called to be disciples of Jesus. We all received that call when we were baptised, no matter what age we were, or in what Christian denomination we were baptised, and we all said yes to that call to be disciples of Jesus when we were confirmed. So this is what we are on about. We were not only called to be believers, or church members. We were called to be disciples of Jesus.

 And disciples of Jesus are called to follow him and to share his work, his mission, which is to serve the mission of God.

 God’s mission has been described in various ways, but a really good description comes from the line in the Lord’s Prayer: ‘your kingdom come your will be done on earth as it is in heaven’.

 God’s mission, Gods project, Gods aim if you like, is to bring heaven to earth. Another description of God’s mission is ‘the healing of all things’. God will bring this about, but God calls the church to participate, to share in this work. That’s our purpose-to share in the goal, in the project, in the mission of God.

 A way to think about the kingdom of God is to imagine what things would be like on earth if heaven came to earth. So for instance, if heaven came to earth we would know God perfectly. God would be recognised as God by everyone. There would be no more death or sickness. There would be no more war. Everyone would have enough. No one would go without. Everyone would be treated fairly and honestly and respectfully. The earth and all creation would be healed.

That’s Gods mission-to bring that state of things to be, and that’s what we pray for every time we pray the Lord’s prayer-your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. The purpose of the church is to share with God in that mission. To do what we can do make that future situation real now.

 That’s why we evangelise-we tell people about Jesus, his death and resurrection, the forgiveness of sins and the hope of resurrection that comes through trust in him. That’s why we tell people about Gods aim-what the future will be like. The future of the world is ultimately not going to be gloom and destruction. The future of the world is going to be wholeness and healing and new creation. Heaven and earth joined. There may well be times of difficulty and suffering on the way, but ultimately heaven will come to earth.

 The reason we help people in need. The reason why we try to welcome everyone. The reason why we do all we can to look after the environment. The reason why we do all those things is because we are sharing in the mission of God, and bringing Gods future into the present.

 One of the challenges for the Anglican Church in Australia at the moment is a general lack of clarity about what our purpose is. We have found it very difficult to move on from the hey-day of the 1950’s and 60’s, and we tend to look back either to wish things were like that now, or to try to continue today what we did back then because we don’t know what else to do.

 The other big challenge for us given the society in which we live is consumerism. That is the air we breathe. We are bombarded by advertising in all sorts of forms telling us we need more or different or lots of things and offering us an incredible choice. What we want we can have. The church can be affected by consumerism too. The church can become a purveyor of spiritual experience, and we church members can become religious or spiritual consumers. We say it’s all about God. But actually the decisions we make show it’s all about us.

The tendency for us is to come to church because of what we get out of it. We like the music. We like the preaching. We like the church building. We like the people. We like the coffee-although that’s not usually a risk in many Anglican churches!

 Church is not supposed to be about us and what suits us or what we like. Church is supposed to be a first aid station and a staging post. Church is supposed to be a place where those who are seeking God, or who are suffering from the impact of the worlds injustices come to find the healing that is in Jesus Christ.

 Church is supposed to be a staging post in that when we gather the idea is that we are strengthened to go out. Equipped to live as disciples of Jesus away from this building. Recharged to share in the mission of God. What we do on Sundays and other times when we gather is not an end in itself but a time to encourage and strengthen us to do what we can do to help others know the love of God in Jesus, and do what we can do to see God’s will on earth as it is done in heaven. That’s the point. That’s the purpose of the church. That’s our purpose.

 To fulfill that purpose we need to be well connected with Jesus. Continually filled with the Holy Spirit. There are a number of ways that are part of that happening. Having an open and expectant heart is important. Wanting to be connected with God, to know God, to be used by God in Gods mission. Being prepared to say ‘yes’ to that call.

 Second, we connect with God through the sacraments and especially through Holy Communion. God does strengthen our connection with him as we faithfully receive communion.

 Third, through prayer and reflection on the scriptures. The challenge is that some of us find prayer difficult. We may never have been taught to pray. We may find it difficult to read and reflect on the scriptures. Maybe we have tried in the past but we find the Bible difficulty to understand. That may well be the case. But there is help available. If you have your phone…look where you get your apps and find one called Lectio 365 – it’s free – try it for a week – there’s nothing to lose.

 The Trinity, in other words, God, is not about maths. God is about mission. And Gods church is about mission too. God’s mission, and we share in that, guided and enabled by the Holy Spirit. May we reflect that goal and purpose in all we do. Amen.

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Pentecost – Acts 2 1-21 Ps 104 26-36 1 Cor 12 4-13 Jn 20 19-23

We don’t talk much about the Holy Spirit. We talk about what Jesus did and said, we talk about Christian values like justice, mercy and faith. We talk about scripture, ethics – lots of things, but we don’t say much about how the Holy Spirit fits in. So how would you and I recognise the Holy Spirit if we bumped into each other? If we’re not sure we could recognise the Spirit, how might we learn to do so reliably?

They say you can never quite catch the Holy Spirit, but you can always tell where she’s been. So maybe that’s a good place to start; like a careful tracker, let’s look for signs that she’s been with us. Those tracks will leave these characteristic marks in people: love and joy, peace and patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. ^{Gal 5:22-23}

I’ve comer across clear tracks this week talking with someone who is generous enough to feel deep, true gratitude, despite the terrible suffering their life has brought them. Gratitude is a generous gift to everyone around such a person. And then there was another person who’s been terribly wronged and injured, but who doesn’t seek revenge, but rather chooses the healing path of forgiveness and love. These are clear tracks to show that the Holy Spirit is at work in these people, and through them, offering astonishing gifts to all of us.

These people have been free to make their own choices. If their choices tend towards these things – love and joy, peace and patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control – then we see evidence of the Spirit’s involvement. But they are choices; always. The choice is to follow the guidance of the Spirit calling from within us, or to choose a different path. It’s often a costly, tentative choice. And often too, one we can only really evaluate in hindsight. You may know how the poet, Robert Frost, ended his poem, The road not taken, ‘I chose the path less travelled by, and that has made all the difference.’ There’s a huge difference in a life that chooses the trajectory of the Spirit towards love and joy, peace and patience – so different from a life that turns its back on kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

In today’s epistle, Paul writes about this sort of choice to the church in Corinth. They were a church whose gatherings were plagued by issues of class distinction and spiritual one-upmanship. Paul urges them stop this. It would have been a very counter-cultural choice for them to make in their cosmopolitan, nouveau-rich city. On the subject of spiritual one-upmanship, Paul argues that spiritual growth isn’t about the ambition or importance of the person manifesting a spiritual gift. Spiritual gifts are given for the common good; not as a status symbol. The Holy Spirit is the source of all spiritual gifts; and they are given ‘as the Spirit chooses’.

There are two other things Paul writes about in today’s epistle reading that help us learn how to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit: first about us being the body of Christ, and second about our baptism.

First, as the body of Christ, our call is to be filled with the Spirit, just as Jesus was. Rowan Williams writes about how Jesus was so utterly filled with the Spirit of God that he was the physical embodiment of the Wisdom, the Word and the Love of God. It meant all he did and said brought people face to face with God. And that’s our calling too; we are now Christ’s body, his hands, his feet, and his voice for the world now.

Paul obviously felt that the Corinthian church had work to do on that front. We do too! It’s a process for each of us as individuals and all of us as a congregation, as a denomination and as the national and worldwide Church – are we embodying Jesus? Does the world encounter the Holy Spirit through us? The opposite or a counterfeit can be dreadful! (The graffiti on the sacred Mt Beerwah QLD ^{https://www.abc.net.au/news/2023-05-26/mt-beerwah-vandalism/102397546} saying ‘Jesus saves, just ask him’) Whether it was a Christian or someone pretending to be doesn’t matter: it’s the harm done that is so shocking.

The process of developing the gifts of the Holy Spirit for each one of us is inaugurated at our baptism – and that’s the other thing Paul mentioned. Our baptism is new birth into resurrection life. It’s when we acknowledge that the Holy Spirit has come to live within us, at the centre of our being. We can encourage each other to follow the Spirit’s guidance within us; recognise and name the Spirit’s fruits when we see them.

What’s the Spirit doing in there, inside us? Paul writes that the Holy Spirit, living in us, perceives the deepest needs of our hearts – needs we may not yet know of; needs we have no words to express. From inside us, the Spirit offers those needs in prayer for us; offers them in sighs and groans deeper than words. ^{Rom 8.26}

Our part in this prayer – both as individuals and as a congregation – is to learn to hear what’s being prayed for, and willingly let ourselves be healed, renewed, and made whole; to willingly become Spirit centered like Jesus. The vision of the Spirit-filled Jesus before us is our role model. He beckons us to follow him; to become more like him; to embody more truly God’s wisdom and love; you and me, and all of us together.

Let’s pray. Lord Jesus, for the sake of the world you love, help us to be attentive to the Holy Spirit, and bear the fruits of the Spirit in our lives: love and joy, peace and patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Amen