All posts by Judy

Join God’s journey and help make this world a better place to live in. 

Rev’d  Dr Elizabeth McWhae

5th Sunday after Epiphany – Isaiah 6:1-8, Psalm 138, Luke 5:1-11, 1 Corinthians 15:1-11

INTRODUCTION:

Before I prepare to write a sermon, I always sit with the readings and see what ideas and themes emerge. This sermon was no exception, but what was unexpected was how quickly the themes presented themselves to me. It was as though they jumped off the page. So let’s see where they take us. I am going to label these themes as 1) sinfulness/brokenness 2) forgiveness/conversion and 3) evangelism/working for God.

POINT 1:

The first reading from Isaiah is a record of his vocational calling as a prophet of Israel. It goes like this. “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said:” Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I, send me!”

The second reading from 1 Corinthians, is also a record of Paul’s vocational calling as an apostle of Christ. He says this. “Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared to me. For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them – though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me.”

 And finally, the third reading we have Is another vocational calling story, this time from Luke’s gospel, and it involves Simon Peter. Jesus said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long and have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets. When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” Then Jesus said to Simon. “Do not be afraid, from now on you will be catching people.”

POINT 2:

Have you noticed there is a clear pattern in these 3 calling stories. And I think they are important to notice, because they tell us something about the Christian journey.

The first experience that Isaiah, Paul and Peter have in their calling stories is one of sinfulness or brokenness. In a profound way, God’s presence somehow makes them realise they are damaged human beings, as in fact we all are. And this experience for all 3 of them is utterly overwhelming. It isn’t something superficial; it is a realisation that hits them hard to the core of their being.

The second thing that happens to Isaiah, Paul and Peter follows on from their acknowledgement of their sinfulness/brokenness. They mysteriously feel that God has forgiven them. God’s grace has somehow altered them so that they think, feel and see things differently. This for them is an experience of overwhelming forgiveness that could also be understood as their point of conversion if you like. So I am calling this a pattern of forgiveness that leads to conversion to God, to Jesus. It is an awareness that has opened their eyes.

The third pattern I see in Isaiah, Paul and Peter is what I am going to call evangelism or working for God.  Each one of them has a radical change in the direction of their lives. Isaiah becomes a prophet. Paul stops persecuting the early christians and instead becomes one himself. And Peter stops being a fisherman and becomes an itinerant preacher and disciple of Jesus. These were not minor changes in their lives, but really significant moves.

POINT 3:

So what can we learn from the experience of Isaiah, Paul and Peter and what can it tell us for our faith journey, as individuals and as a community of faith?

Well, I think we can learn that this pattern of acknowledging our sinfulness/brokenness, which then leads on to forgiveness and conversion to Christ, and is worked out through evangelism and working for God is not optional  for our faith journey. Rather it is what our journey is all about. This is what is essential to being a christian. And I don’t think this is a once only pattern. I think we constantly need to examine our brokenness, be continually forgiven and converted and work for God in many different ways.

CONCLUSION:

It is not easy being a christian these days or a community of faith, especially one that doesn’t have a whole lot of young people, and hip music  and black and white ways of understanding the faith. Nevertheless, we are what we are. Recall that Peter was the disciple who denied Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane and Paul, before his Damascus road experience, was present at the stoning of Stephen. But they both went on to become foundational members of the christian community. So we have no excuses.

The radical change God made in their lives God wants to make in ours. It doesn’t matter if we are young or old. God is not fussed as long as we go on this journey and help to make this world a better place to live in.

Feast of the Presentation

Archbishop Geoffrey Smith

Malachi 3.1-4, Hebrews 2.14-18, Luke 2.22-40

The account of Jesus being presented to God in the temple, which was read as the gospel reading today, is a beautiful story of devotion. When I read the story in preparation for today, I was struck by how moving it is.

There are Mary and Joseph totally committed to God, ‘fulfilling everything required by the law of the Lord’, including presenting Jesus to the Lord. Jesus, as the first-born male child, was first consecrated to God, and then redeemed or bought back through the offering of a pair of turtle doves or two young pigeons.

And, then there are the other two beautiful characters-Simeon and Anna. They are wonderful examples of people who are so close to God through constant prayer, worship and study. So devout, that they were sensitive to God and so able to recognise in Jesus the promised one.

In many respects Simeon and Anna are the key characters in this event. They had remained expectant that God would fulfil his promise and send the Messiah. They had remained attentive, looking for the promise to be fulfilled, watchful for the activity of God even in an environment of foreign occupation, where God’s prophets had been silent for many years.

Simeon and Anna kept turning up. Coming to the temple and spending time at the temple, steeping their lives in the worshipping activities of the temple. Living righteously. Remaining full of trust and hope and ready to respond to God’s action.

I think Simeon and Anna’s example can offer valuable lessons for us as we begin a new year. In some ways, the new year always holds a great deal of promise, but as a church and a society, we are in a time of significant change.

Decline in church attendance in Australia while certainly not universal is very common and is overall our current reality.  It’s clear that we are moving from one situation to another.

Part of the increased detachment from Christianity has been a rise in the number of people who say they have no religion. Now up to 39% of the Australian population.

The current era has been described as a liminal time, a liminal space where the future for the church in Australia is not clear, and that can be a difficult and anxious place to inhabit.

And it’s not just the church where anxiety is found. Our society as a whole is more and more anxious.

Across the globe there seem to be complex and intractable conflicts. No easy solution can be found for the situation in the Middle East, which has led to suffering for Palestinians and Israelis. Or the civil war in Sudan, or the military junta in Myanmar. There are many, many people suffering. It’s hard to see how these conflicts will end and how peace will come.

So what might Simeon and Anna have to say to us as we start a new year in an anxious context both locally and globally?

First of all, Simeon and Anna were people of faith and trust in God. They trusted, really trusted, that God would fulfill his promises, and they held on to that trust even in the face of evidence to the contrary. After all, at the time, Palestine was occupied by troops of the Roman Empire. There had been no prophet in Israel for many years. God seemed silent. God seemed not to hear the prayers of his people.

But Simeon and Anna didn’t give up. They kept trusting, and they kept praying, and they kept looking for what God was doing. Looking with expectation for God to move. Looking with expectation for God to fulfill his promise to send the Messiah. That’s why they were ready and able to spot what God was doing in this little newborn baby boy. There was nothing spectacular, northing noticeable about this baby called Jesus or his parents.

But Simeon and Anna were ready. They were ready to recognise what God was doing.

Rather than giving in to the anxiety of others, or even our own anxiety, we can be people who follow Simeon and Anna’s example of trust in God.

There are good reasons for us to trust God with hopefulness.

First of all, God’s character. God is faithful. We do not know exactly what will happen to the Anglican Church of Australia in the future. We do not know what will happen in the future with the perplexing problems the world is facing, or even the difficulties for Australia, but we do know that in Jesus, God has inaugurated his reign. We pray for God’s kingdom to come trusting that it will.

We trust that when Jesus said, ‘I will build my church and the gates of Hades will not overpower it’, he meant it, and he wasn’t crazy. We trust that the future of the world is not one of death and destruction but of life and new creation. Jesus’ resurrection guarantees that, and we can trust in it.

The second reason is what we see. We continue to see the light of God breaking into people’s lives. We see people coming to faith. We see people being healed. We see the forces of evil being pushed back even in the midst of so much suffering and pain and violence and intolerance in the world. We see the effect of God all over the place.

The third reason for trust in God’s promises is the experience of history. The church has had periods of decline before-many of them. In 1750 for instance, there were 16 people at the Easter service in St Paul’s Cathedral London. The Church of England was moribund. Then along came the Wesley’s. And the church was renewed. Who’d have guessed that would happen?

And in 1921 one of my predecessors in Adelaide, Arthur Nutter-Thomas said in his address to the annual synod, bemoaning poor church attendance- ‘Religion just isn’t fashionable anymore’. Then following the suffering of the great depression and World War 2 came a period of great regeneration in the church in the 1950’s leading to the highest percentage of the population regularly attending church in Australia ever. Who’d have guessed that would have happened looking forward from the 1920’s?

History tells us that while there have been periods of decline and very substantial change, God has continued to be faithful to his mission to the world through the church through the ups and the downs. We don’t know what is over the horizon, but God is trustworthy. We can put our trust in God.

And it’s not just the church. Who’d have guessed that for instance the Berlin wall would have come down when and how it did. That barrier of oppression came to an end. An event many, many people had been praying for since the wall was built.

One of the really beautiful things about Simeon and Anna was that they were expectant. They were there watching for God to move. Open to God fulfilling his promise.

As we think about our life as disciples of Christ trust in God is important, but so is expectancy and watchfulness. Expectancy that God will fulfil God’s promises. Expectancy that God will continue to bring people to faith in Jesus.

Expectancy that more and more Gods kingdom will be visible in our lives, in the life of the church and the life of the world.

It’s really important that this trust in and expectancy of God are not only within us but also seen in our actions and attitudes. Our internal attitudes are important because they determine whether we are in peace and also affect our actions.

This applies to us as congregations as well. It’s easy for congregations to be anxious about their future and the future of the church. It’s easy for congregations to just go through the motions and not expect God to do anything much at all.

But that’s not the Simeon and Anna way. Their way is to trust that God will fulfil God’s promises. Their way is to expect that God is and will act to bring about God’s reign.

And this is not a passive, do nothing approach. Simeon and Anna were not sitting by the pool drinking cocktails waiting for God to do Gods thing. Nor were they trying to solve the problems of Palestine. They were looking to God. They were trusting in God. And that was fuelled by their worship-they turned up and focussed on God. It was fuelled by their prayer and their study of the scriptures.

Simeon and Anne were immersed in a rich action of spirituality, and that fuelled their trust in God, their expectation of God and their ability to see what God was doing and joining in.

Following that example is so important for the church in the current era, in the world in which we live. We have everything we need to be people of hope, and right now hope is a great gift to enjoy and share.

At the start of 2025, the question for the people of St Johns Halifax Street is-how are you going to follow the example of Simeon and Anna? How are you going to soak in God, and so be ready to trust God, to expect God to act, to see what God is doing and join in?

These are live questions. This is not a theoretical discussion. The church and the world needs people of genuine hope. We need little and large communities of hope. Spots of light in the darkness that make a difference. Hope that is not wishful thinking but hope that is confidently based on God.

So as the year gets properly underway, what needs to change here at St Johns? Nothing? Praise the Lord. Keep on keeping on. But if change needs to happen so we can be more like Simeon and Anna, let’s have the courage to make the change. Because the world needs us. It might not know it does. But it does.

We have a God given vocation we must fulfill. Let us pray that we may have the courage to be Simeon’s and Anna’s and fulfill it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Christian Country?

Epiphany + 3 C – Neh 8, Ps 19, 1 Cor 12, Lk  4

You may have read or heard the news about the church service in Washington National Cathedral that marked last week’s presidential inauguration. The preacher, Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde, set out a vision of a nation unified despite people’s deep disagreements on very many issues; a nation unified by a genuine commitment to the social teachings of Jesus, which she laid out very clearly.

She finished her sermon with a gentle appeal to the newly inaugurated President that he might heed the teaching of Jesus to be compassionate to people on the margins. She specifically named the people who are right now most fearful of the policies he’s been announcing: gender diverse people and undocumented workers. Sadly, the President was most seriously displeased.

I’m struck by the fact that today, the Gospel reading set in our lectionary happens to include one of the very teachings of Jesus that Bp Budde would have had in mind. Luke presents us with Jesus’s first sermon in his home Synagogue in Nazareth. (Lk 4.14-21) He’s handed the Isaiah scroll and chooses these texts (61.1-2 and 58.6), 18The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, 19to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.

Jesus rolls up the scroll, gives it back to the attendant, and sits down to preach. We didn’t read further, so I need to let you know that the Spirit of the Lord inspired Jesus to preach about God’s heart for sick and needy people in other countries. His listeners were also seriously displeased. In fact, they were so enraged that they drove Jesus out of the Synagogue and tried to hurl him off a cliff. I expect Bp Budde has put herself in serious danger of a similar response.

Through the past week, I’ve been thinking about what our scriptures and liturgy today call from us as Christian citizens of this land. What difference might obedient Christian inhabitants make to Australia? What are followers of Jesus called to do as citizens? Today’s Gospel makes me wonder if it would put us at risk if we do what Jesus wants. What do today’s scriptures and liturgy call from us as God’s children?

The prayer of preparation calls us to open to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit as we saw Jesus do. That’s central to everything we do as God’s children. Without the Holy Spirit’s awakening and prompting, anything we do is questionable at best.

The invitation to confession calls us to acknowledge our part in this nation’s toxic disunity; our part in the nation’s systemic oppression of people on the margins; our part in these people being starved of compassion. We confess our failure to love each other and our neighbours. We ask God to forgive us; we ask for the strength to turn and hear and obey God’s call for us to be actively loving and compassionate.

I conducted a memorial service on Friday for someone who was actively loving and compassionate. She made an incredibly positive difference to the lives of people around her. Multiply that by a whole parish full of people – a whole country – you can see where I’m going.

Our prayer of the day thanked God for all the blessings of this land – even the disasters that so mysteriously have the power to draw us into compassionate unity. There was the Holy Spirit again, calling us to forgiveness, reconciliation and an end to injustice. You can’t do without the Spirit: we have to open up to her!

And our scriptures? Nehemiah reminds us that a Land is God’s to give – not anyone’s to take. The Psalm warns against sins of such presumption. And the Epistle also spells out their dangers. We ignore the gifts of others at our peril, and we close off our compassion for others to our peril, and that of the whole society.

And into all of that, Jesus preaches on a text he took from Isaiah: 18The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, 19to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.

What could change in this country if we church-goers open ourselves to the Spirit’s leading? Our liturgy and scriptures today call us to pray for the Spirit to inspire us; to unite us. They call on the Spirit to fill us with love and compassion for the poor; to fill us with love and compassion for those our nation robs, imprisons or exiles; to fill us with love and compassion for those whose illnesses, whose degradation, whose debt traps cut them off from the simple human need of belonging. A country where everyone belongs? Is that the difference the Spirit is calling us to work for?

We must ourselves be actively loving and compassionate. And we must pray for our leaders to be inspired by the Spirit; that the Spirit might guide them in ways of integrity, compassion, co-operation, justice, wisdom, and into a unity guided by a clear commitment to those in need, to justice, to mercy and to faithfulness.   Amen.

National Aboriginal Sunday

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Epiphany + 2 – Jn 2 1-11 – The wedding at Cana 

Many families have their ‘awkward-drinks-moment-at-the-wedding’ story. At Anna and Chris’s wedding last year, they thought they’d arranged everything perfectly for their reception – having taken a deep breath and gone for The Platinum Catering Package. But closer to the big day, they read the fine print a bit more closely and discovered that The Platinum Catering Package only included what you might call The Electroplated Drinks Package. They were horrified! It would mean such disgrace before all their friends and family. So they took the necessary steps to avoid such shame.

If you think we’re hyper-sensitive about the honour and shame attached to hospitality, just travel in a so-called developing country and see how central hospitality is. A poor family will put everything they have for the coming month before a stranger. But like the steward at the wedding at Cana, we can be blind to the love and care that lies behind the good things set before us.

So maybe the fact that Jesus begins his public ministry in John’s Gospel with an act of extreme hospitality should be no surprise. I was talking with a friend who thought there must have been plenty of other, higher causes looking for divine intervention. – but there you go; hospitality was the choice.

Water to wine at Cana is the first of Jesus’ seven signs in John’s Gospel (water to wine, 3 healings, feeding 5,000, walking on water, and raising Lazarus) – signs pointing beyond themselves to reveal his glory; signs to alert us see, to hear, and to believe. Ancient prophecies Amos 9.13 and Joel 3.18 named an extravagant abundance of wine – the mountains dripping with wine – as being a sign of the joyous arrival of God’s new age. So for any with eyes to see, what happened at Cana that day dripped with significance.

Still, there are puzzling aspects to the story of Jesus’ first sign. One is the peculiar conversation with his Mother which sets it in motion. He’s not being rude when he answers her, Woman, what’s that to you and me. He’s just being clear about who does call the shots. God. And that strange expression – My hour has not yet come – will only become clear later on. Then there’s the fact that only the servants know what’s happened and where the wine came from. For everyone else, even the steward in charge of all the arrangements, the sign is only experienced by him and the guests as the mysterious, providential arrival of 500-700 litres of top-quality wine right when it’s needed. Why the secrecy?

Later in the reading, we get to hear that the disciples did know what had happened; 11Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him. So this sign did its work – albeit only in a pretty muted way. It pointed beyond itself to the revelation of God in Jesus, to help us truly see, hear, and believe. The disciples saw and believed. Now it’s our turn.

But what do we see and believe? We’re confronted by this story of extravagant abundance in a world plagued by poverty, disease, injustice and hunger – so often of human making. So we might look at this sign and get hung up on whether miracles happen, whether this made any difference to the big picture – any number of logical concerns. But that means we miss the main thing this sign points us to. And what’s that? It’s the fact that our in world, we’re frequently blessed with unexpected grace and we don’t recognise it when it happens. We may be looking the other way. That’s why the mindfulness movement these days is such an important idea. We need to have our eyes open to the signs, and see God’s love as the source of life’s good gifts. We need to see to believe.

We might also become aware of the power of prayer to make a difference even to a seemingly hopeless situation. Jesus’ Mother joined those dots; her prayer was simply to say what was wrong. And for God, the mutual honour of hospitality was a good enough reason to respond. So let me conclude with a prayer written for today in another seemingly hopeless situation; this time, one of abused hospitality.

A Prayer of Defiant Hope – Written by Safina Stewart for Aboriginal Sunday 2025

God of Justice, help us engage.
This land is stained with blood and tears,
But your love defies all apathy and despair.
God of all time, help us believe.
This vast and ancient land sings with defiant hope,
Reveal the pathways to healing, connection and true community.
God of Mercy, help us hear.
The old people inspired and dared us to take a tangible stand,
Our First Nations family call for we, the Australian church, to uplift and pray.
God of Grace, help us represent.
Shine your guiding light on our nation’s darkest moments
That we might be a part of the freedom story in your mysterious kingdom.
God of Hope, help us grow.
Sink our roots deep to weather any storms
Help us stand in our birthright and inheritance
as we sing with defiant hope of your faithfulness and love. Amen

 

The Baptism of our Lord

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

The Baptism of our Lord – Isa 43 1-7 Lk 3 15-33

John’s baptism of repentance meant crossing the Jordan River. Jn 1.28 African-American spirituals about that crossing are about entering life in God’s nearer presence – receiving God’s gracious rescue from the oppression of slavery because God loves them. And that’s what John’s baptism offered; a return from alienation into true belonging, embraced in God’s love. (We had an experience of unexpected grace when we crossed the Jordan – fee-free border crossings!)

There is a crossing of the Jordan referred to in today’s reading from Isaiah which promises freedom from slavery. And the reason for this offer is again God’s love. You are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you, says God. Today’s passage from Isaiah has been crafted with amazing care to focus the whole speech on this one, central message… “You are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you.” Such a focus; such an emphasis! Why?

The oracles from this part of the book of Isaiah (40.1–44.23) are set in a time when the Hebrew people had been in exile as captive slaves in Babylon for about forty years. Into this hopeless situation, the prophet Isaiah speaks these words of comfort and blessing. But how can a demoralised people hear such words? Isaiah goes to great lengths to make sure they do. 43.3…I am the LORD your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour. I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you. 4Because you are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you, I give peoples in return for you, nations in exchange for your life. But why? What for? I can’t help worrying about how the Egyptians, the Ethiopians and other North Africans fare in this arrangement. And nor can I help thinking about all my Palestinian friends and colleagues preaching on this passage later today with Gaza at war and over four million of their compatriots in their eighth decade of exile from the very same homeland. Is this passage as exclusive and élitist as it sounds?

And to complicate things more, it’s one thing preaching to a downtrodden, exiled people about their divine right to their homeland – that’s what Isaiah did, and it’s what my Palestinian colleagues will do later today too. But it’s quite another thing for me to be preaching on the subject of divine right to a land in a situation where we’re on the other side of the fence.

And yet both of us – oppressed and oppressor – are addressed by the same scriptures; all of us must listen for the voice of God speaking to us, even through passages like this, abused in the name of Apartheid, militant Zionism and colonial Australia. How can we hear God’s voice – all of us?

In the Bible, there are some passages which we call normative; key passages which unlock the rest of the scriptures. The key passage in this case is Genesis 12:1-3. 1Now the LORD said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. 2I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. 3I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”

The Land is one of several blessings God promises to Abram’s descendants. And among this list of blessings is the reason for them – I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will (imperative) be a blessing … in you all the families (species) of the earth shall be blessed. God let the Hebrew people cross the Jordan River into the land after the Exodus from Egypt so that [they would] be a blessing; so that in [them] all the families of the earth [would] be blessed.

And this is the key which unlocks today’s passage from Isaiah. Through the prophet Isaiah, God promised the Hebrew people that they would return from the exile in Babylon; that again, they would cross the Jordan River. 43.2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. The reference to the crossing reminds them of the purpose of God’s rescue. They may return so that [they] will be a blessing; so that in [them] all the families of the earth [will] be blessed. God’s purpose for this people that he loved, and loves, remains the same; that ultimately, through them, the divine love which God has for all families of the earth might be revealed.

And that brings us to today – the feast of the Baptism of our Lord Jesus. Baptism was a Jewish initiation ritual which John the Baptist made a restatement of those earlier entries into the Promised Land. To receive John’s baptism, Jesus and others had to go to the other side of the river. John’s baptism meant bringing Jesus back from this symbolic exile through the waters of the Jordan again; back into the Land.

Jesus and John did what they did in fulfilment of God’s command to Abram. This Baptism – this entering the Land – was a gift from God given so that all families of the earth would come to know God’s blessing. And it is the constant prayer of the Church that we will fulfil this destiny. The birth, upbringing, baptism, ministry, passion, death and resurrection of Jesus say he enters our exile so that by following him, and leading others to do so too, all families of Earth might enter the Land of God’s promise; that is life in all its fulness, and with all its attendant blessings.

As far as my beloved Palestine and Israel are concerned, I ask your prayer that the three descendant tribes of Abraham who call that Land their home, Jews, Muslims and Christians, can hear God’s word to them, and particularly to each other: “You are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you.” And “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing.” And the reason, again, God’s love for each of them, and all of us. Amen

Feast of the Epiphany

Rev’d Elizabeth McWhae

Feast of the Epiphany Sunday – Isaiah 60 1-6, Psalm 72 1-16, Ephesian 3 1-12, Matthew 2 1-12

Today is the feast of Epiphany. How many of you I wonder are thinking to yourselves what does epiphany mean? It is derived from the Greek and means manifestation or appearance. Since the Sth century the feast of Epiphany has been celebrated in the church as the feast which marks the manifestation of Jesus to the non-Jewish world, signified by the visit of the Magi to Bethlehem. Contrary to popular opinion the Magi were not kings but rather astrologers, dream interpreters, magicians and priests from a tribe of Medes in Persia. Bidden by their astrological findings they set out on a journey of faith to find the king who had been born king of the Jews. They did not come empty-handed but bearing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. Let’s look a bit more closely at their gifts.

POINT 1

Christian tradition would have it that these 3 gifts are symbolic. The first gift of gold is a gift for a king. It thus symbolizes Christ’s kingship. He is king of the Jews. The second gift of frankincense is a gift for a deity. It thus symbolizes Christ’s divinity as the Son of God. The third gift of myrrh is a gift for one who will die. Thus it symbolizes the redemptive suffering of Jesus on the cross. To my way of thinking there should have been one more gift given, a gift that symbolized Jesus’ humanity, but I suppose that was obvious to the Magi as they worshipped the baby who was born of Mary.

POINT 2

What are we to make of the Magi’s visit? Surely they must have been a bit taken aback, finding this baby with his parents not in a palace, but in a humble dwelling, not born of wealthy and prominent parents but from peasant stock. I can’t help thinking that they must have had second thoughts. Maybe they thought they had followed the wrong star. But this doesn’t appear to be the case. We are told that when they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house they saw the child with Nary his mother, and they knelt down and paid him homage. Now this was an act of faith of great magnitude. How did they know that this baby was the king of the Jews? Where there any Jews there celebrating his arrival, apart from his parents? No. Was everyone flocking to see him? No. Where were the scribes and the pharisees who were expecting their long awaited Messiah? Nowhere in sight. It must have been a peculiar scene when you stop to think about it. Apparently these Magi could see with the eyes of faith what the Jewish religious elite could not see. That the Son of God had come into the world as a powerless, dependent baby who would in time grow and mature in wisdom and favour with God and with men and women.

POINT 3

And isn’t life often like that. Just when we are not expecting it, God pops up in the most unlikely of places. Where do we encounter these moments of God’s epiphany in our lives? Are we like the Magi who are able to correctly interpret God’s manifestation to us? Or are we blind to the many and varied manifestations of God in our midst, like the scribes and pharisees? Is there any room for the mystic in us or are we cold hard skeptics who will only believe something if we see it for ourselves. The scribes and pharisees saw what the Magi saw and yet they did not see. Why? Because faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. The Magi had this sort of faith. Is this the sort of faith that we have?

POINT 4

You see, the Bible is not just a book of stories about events that happened long ago. It is much more than that. The story of the Magi is meant to do much more than remind us of a time in the past, it reminds us of the present as well. We live in what people are now calling a post-christian civilization in the West. Increasing numbers of people do not know Christ or live as though he ever existed. Religion is of little interest to them. So the West has become alot like Herod in our story, it wants to pretend interest in the newborn king, but really it wants to eradicate him. Those of us who maintain faith in this Jesus are in the minority, we are like the Magi who go to worship him and hopefully bring what gifts we have to offer, our lives, our time, our resources. But there are only a few of us. Meanwhile the rest of society is busy going about its own business. They probably think that we’re a bit odd at times, and no doubt we are, taking this God stuff far too seriously, they say. Well, somebody has to, don’t they. That’s what the Magi were on about. And that is what we are on about. God did not manifest Godself to the world two thousand years ago in the baby born at Bethlehem and then exit this world. No, God made an epiphany, a manifestation, an appearance then, and God is still making manifestations now, in this day and age. Like the Magi who were on a journey of faith, so too are we. And like the Magi, we too should not be all that surprised if God does the unexpected. God is in the habit of doing the unexpected, whoever expected the incarnation. And like the Magi, we too are called to worship the very same king of the Jews that they worshipped. Only we are more fortunate than them, in that we know much more about this king than they probably ever did. We know that this king is still alive. That crucifixion and death could not put an end to him. That he offers us life in all its fullness. That he teaches us about reconciliation and hope and justice and peace and that he will never leave or forsake us.

CONCLUSION:

So the story of the feast of Epiphany is that the story never ends, instead it goes on and on. Two thousand years after the event wise men and women still come to offer their worship and their gifts to this Jesus. And this Jesus is still made manifest in our lives, and the communities we live in, and in our world. With the eyes of faith, given to us by the Christ child, we too can have an epiphany.

Commit to an inclusive, open, creative community

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Christmas 1C – 1 Sam 1, Ps 148, Col 3 12-17, Lk 2 41-52

It’s been a very busy week in the Church calendar. Wednesday was Christmas, of course, and you’d think that was plenty for one week. But the next day was the feast of Stephen, that feisty new deacon who preached such a confronting sermon that his listeners killed him for it, making him the Church’s first martyr. Then Friday was the feast of our patron saint, John, Apostle and Evangelist. And yesterday was Holy Innocents’ Day – recalling all the babies in Bethlehem that Herod ordered to be massacred in the hope that Jesus would be one of them.

In our time, where that same sort of intolerance and violence is such a real threat in so much of the world, the Church still has to confront much that is wrong. And our faith needs to be mature enough and articulate enough to confront it both effectively and transformingly. We have to be able to call out intolerance and violence with integrity. And we need to convince so many people to resist it with us, that vulnerable people are given real hope for change. We’re called to embody and proclaim a robust message of peace and justice. … But I’m not confident that the Church in our type of country is up to this; nor confident that we’re conscious it’s part of our job description.

That’s why, in my weekly, on St John’s day, I asked the question, What do you think St John would want this parish to be when we grow up? It’s helpful that two of today’s readings have us subconsciously asking the same question about the young boys we met in them. We just spent some time with the little boy Samuel whose mother left him, dedicated to God’s service in the shrine at Shiloh with Eli the priest. We also read about Jesus failing to join his family on their journey home from Passover in Jerusalem. Instead, for three days, he sat in on the theological debates of the Temple teachers, astounding them with his understanding and his answers. What on earth were these boys going to be when they grow up? What would you predict from the information we’ve got before us today? Damaged delinquents? No. Luckily, we know what follows.

Sometimes when you do a self-development course, the facilitator will give you a task of mapping out the highs and lows of your life or your occupation. We’re meant to think about the ways those highs and lows have shaped the way we’ve turned out. I’m not sure Samuel would have given a high watermark to the day his mother delivered him to God’s service at Shiloh, pretty well as soon as he was weaned. Yet he grew up to be an extraordinarily feisty, courageous prophet who confronted kings and crowds. He could recall a nation to their duty to God and to each other, and get away with it.

And what about Jesus – would he have marked his three days debating in the Temple as a high point?

I’ve sat in on a Rabbi preparing young people for their transition to adulthood and it’s no picnic. The give and take is something that makes parliamentary question time look pretty tame. It’s part of forming young people into adults who can truly give an account of their convictions. The only convincing parallels I’ve experienced in the Anglican Communion are in the Church of South India and in Mandarin congregations. But our culture tends towards a softly, softly approach. And we don’t have young people being presented here for spiritual formation at the moment anyway.

So the question remains for us: What do you think our patron St John would want this parish to be when we grow up? If he asked us to map the highs and lows of our parish’s 185 odd years of existence, there’d be many. But for the moment, I think of something from our more recent history. Fr Don Wallace opened up the rectory and the hall to homeless boys back in the ‘60s and ’70s. It wasn’t without its hiccups! It led to the building of the shelter in the 1980’s and the growth of St John’s Youth Services, now forming about 70 young people in apartments in the city, and the foyer at Port Adelaide.

Fr Don is still remembered about the district doorknocking in his black cassock to raise funds to keep the parish afloat. And yet, moved by compassion, he took the risk he did with the homeless boys. And not just through the church. Around 1960, he and his first wife Gwen adopted 12-year-old Harold Thomas into their family when St Francis’ House at Semaphore closed. We still have the table in the dining room where Harold designed the Aboriginal flag. Our parish history says the SSM arrived and ‘saved the parish’ from closure. But look at what was achieved when we were on our knees!

Some people are still here who remember this, but most of us are latecomers, and so the question is a new one for us. What do you think our patron St John would want this parish to be when we grow up? Samuel was dedicated to God’s service before he was even conceived. And twelve-year-old Jesus stunned his parents with his declaration of God’s prior call on his time. What’s it to be with you and me – with St John’s?

Our collect prayer says God is ‘God of community’. God’s community is one which embraces – it doesn’t exclude. That’s why the Psalm has us calling the whole creation into communion with God. That’s why the reading from Colossians is so focussed on the empathic, welcoming, forgiving choices and decisions we need to make to treat another person with respect. Because that’s what it takes to build a transforming, Christlike community. We Christians are called to grow into outward-looking people who can bring the peace of God to the world. We are to commit to inclusive, open, creative community. We’re called to have open borders with wonderful gifts to share and receive, and a genuine desire to do just that. What do you think our patron St John would want this parish to be when we grow up?  Amen.

Christmas Day – God’s defiant assertion of hope

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Christmas Day 2024 – Luke 2:1-20

Come rain, hail, shine, heatwave or flood, babies will be born. They’re not going to stop for anyone or anything. It’s as if they’re telling us: Here I come, ready or not. If you don’t think you have that world outside ready for me, now’s the time! So let me place that order once more. When I get out, I need one promising future, one safe environment, lots of good food and one loving community. Got all that?! Now you’ve got fifteen minutes to get it organised, ’cause here I come!”

It’s shocking so many babies don’t get those good things. We could despair at it all; tell ourselves there’s nothing we can do about it. But the birth of Jesus, born as one of a subject people in a land under military occupation tells us to think differently. Christmas demands that we change our perspective. Christmas calls us to see the birth of a child as a defiant word from God: a defiant assertion of hope where we fear to hope; a defiant assertion of trust in humanity, even where we’re afraid to trust; and a defiant assertion of love, even where we’ve come to fear that love won’t really change anything. Christmas demands that we change our perspective.

Every baby is a word of hope that God speaks to the world; a word of trust that God speaks to the world. And a baby is patently someone that God loves. We might fear that nothing’s changed. We might feel like giving up. But God won’t. Just as the sun shines and the rain falls on everyone alike, God sends babies to be born to us regardless of our circumstances. We might focus on the tragedy of a birth in a refugee camp or a war zone. We might ask God why this is allowed to happen. But the only answer we get to that question is more babies. A most eloquent answer.

Isn’t God paying attention? Maybe not, because God is busy being with the baby as it’s born. People often ask where God is when all the catastrophes and suffering of the world are allowed to happen. That birth of a refugee baby is God’s answer. This baby’s birth tells us that God is right in the thick of the world’s catastrophes and suffering; God is there, crying with all the defiant self-righteousness of every baby that ever had the right to embraced and comforted in a peaceful, loving place.

Bethlehem’s baby tells us that God will never listen to pragmatists. God is too busy trusting us; trusting us to care for the vulnerable and the weak. God is so determined that we’ll come good that God becomes one of us. God becomes that vulnerable baby Jesus and through him, reminds us to work for a world that’s fit for any baby!

In a world where so many millions of infants are born in such conditions as Jesus was, we can hear in his story a story which changes our perspective on all of them, and brings a word of hope? Where is God? Today, God meets us, born as a human child.

God is born in the infant Jesus. His birth is a defiant word which confronts things that we seem to accept as inevitable for ourselves and many of our fellow creatures. The baby Jesus confronts the fact that we live in a world plagued with poverty and hunger, oppression and warfare, genocide and environmental destruction. We hear world leaders – we hear our own leaders – talking of these evils as though they are somehow inevitable. We sometimes even get told that it might hurt our national interest too much if we were to confront these evils frankly for what they are.

This baby, and through him every baby, is God’s word of truth to us that such evils are not inevitable. They can be confronted. And not with fearful caution, but with the reckless kind of determined hope that sends a baby to be born in a land under military occupation. The birth of Jesus under such conditions calls us urgently to confront the evils and injustices of our world. Because every baby’s birthright is to receive the love of God through the nurture of others; not to suffer and die at the whim of some alien, anonymous power. Every child, every animal or bird or reptile that is born, every plant that grows is a word from God which says what can be. We were each born to be a sign of God’s love, hope and truth. Our divine birthright is to make this real through the respect and love we afford all God’s creatures.

The golden flame of the Christ Candle at the centre of the Advent Wreath – the tiny beacon we’ve been waiting to see – it’s a symbol of hope which defies despair. It’s a sign of trust which God has cherished for each of us as babies, and still cherishes for us now. Today, we have shared this light of hope, of trust and love. We’ve read and sung its story. And today when we go out, we’re commissioned to do so with the purpose of carrying this light of hope, trust and love to God’s world.

This baby is God’s defiant assertion of hope where we see none. This baby is God’s assertion that trust will live even where deception protects injustice. This baby is the Word of God’s love spoken to each of us, calling us love each other. In Christ’s birth, God became one of us, and reminds us that every atom of creation is charged with the divine hope, trust and love that God reposes in us. So where is God? Here in us. That’s what we discover anew as we greet the Christ child today. Amen

Christmas Eve – Baby Jesus saves us from alienation and brokenness

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Christmas Eve 2024

We’re here to reconnect tonight. Some have come a long way to reconnect with family and faith-community – to reconnect with a cherished tradition and sing much-loved carols – maybe even to reconnect with ourselves after the demands and upheavals of a busy year. All this reconnecting happens because God has reached out to us – over and over again – but most completely in the one whose birth we’re here to celebrate tonight; Jesus; Emmanuel; God with us.

The Christ-child, Jesus, is God who has come to be with us. Jesus is the reason for all our journeys to this place. God’s gift of the Christ-child lies behind the spirit we say characterises Christmas-time – a spirit of loving generosity, of hearts opened wide in care and good will, hearts opened wide in hope, and some hearts re-opened to the healing work of grief. What is it about God coming to us in Jesus that can set so much goodness loose? It’s all in the story, so let’s see what Luke’s told us.

Jesus is born in a little province ruled by far-away Rome. Roman imperial rule was all about power, control and taxation. It’s a startling backdrop for tonight’s story; because God comes to be in the world with us as one of Rome’s victims! As Rome is sucking power into itself, God gives power away by coming as a fragile infant. While Rome is busy dividing people to conquer them for its own gain, God comes to be with us in person, to connect with us, and to free us to connect with each other.

Jesus is our way to know God because he is God with us; God who calls us to freedom. The story of his coming begins before his birth. His birth under Roman rule echoes ancient Israel’s repeated grief – living under foreign domination, but hoping for God’s promised Messiah to come to free them. Luke’s story connects Joseph and the pregnant Mary with the town of Bethlehem, whose famous child, the shepherd boy David, had become Israel’s most revered king 1,000 years earlier.

Connecting Jesus with David echoes huge expectations. Think of what we just heard in Isaiah 9.5all the boots of the tramping warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire. 6For a child has been born for us, a son given to us;…7His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom. He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness … It’s a prophecy for our time! What a dream! Down-trodden, colonised people all over the world light up with hope at these words. A mighty warrior will lead us to freedom from our oppressors!

But as soon as Luke has raised these tremendous hopes, he seems to dash them, telling us that the baby is born in astoundingly humble circumstances. …she laid him in a manger because there was no space/room in the room/inn. For the royal child that Isaiah expected, it’s a hard beginning to swallow. What Luke’s saying is that God came to connect with real people living real lives; God showed no interest in royal power, wealth or privilege. Luke underlines this with the angel announcing the birth to some nearby shepherds – not to the lord mayor of Bethlehem; not to high religious officials; but to shepherds! Shepherds were generally regarded as dishonest people because they grazed their flocks on other people’s lands. They were prohibited from being judges or witnesses. So God’s not fussed with social acceptability either, or even the credibility of the first witnesses to Jesus’ birth.

God has come in Jesus to connect with real people living real lives. God doesn’t wait for humanity to get it together and be good or godly. God has come to connect with us regardless. To call us to become ourselves; God’s beloved children – people who aren’t measured by our success or our wealth or our importance or our social acceptability. Our true selves are measured by our relationships – particularly how we care for the little people that God loves; how we look after each other.

The rescue we heard Isaiah prophesy tonight was read to mean rescue from external enemies – like the Egyptians, the Babylonians and the Romans. The Christmas message is that Jesus has come to rescue us from something deeper; from our reflection of God’s image. We’re born to reflect clear images of what God is like – the way Jesus does. But that image is incomplete in us. I’ve heard us described as like jigsaw puzzles with missing pieces or pictures that’ve been through a shredder.

Jesus was born to help us identify and place the missing pieces of our jigsaw. Jesus is our patient friend who knows what the original of the shredded picture looks like. So he can help us assemble the shredded pieces to be whole. We see what the true picture looks like in his life. He has come to be with us so we can work together and reconnect the bits; the full picture of ourselves, shaped and coloured by his kindness, generosity and shared love. At its heart are the warm colours and lights of care and good will – colours that give hope to this broken world he came to save.

God gave us the baby Jesus to save us from alienation and brokenness – to help us truly reflect the perfect image of God’s love for the world. And we reflect that when we humbly and simply give ourselves to him to let him reconnect us with who we are, with each other, and with him, our God. Amen

God’s power in our weakness

Rev’d Peter Balabanski

Advent 4 C –  Lk 1 46-55, Lk 1 39-45

Today’s message is that God works most powerfully in our weaknesses, not our strengths. It’s a core teaching of the Church. But even in Christian communities, I hear people being told to focus on their strengths if they really wanted to succeed. Yet we’re told God works most powerfully in our weaknesses, not our strengths. I find it’s true, particularly in ministry. Great moments can come if I stop thinking my gifts are indispensable to what God wants to get done. I’m set free to listen to God. When I acknowledge my weakness, another way might become apparent to me, or I step back and the way opens for someone else to do what comes naturally.

In parish life in practical terms, for me it means I try not to be controlling or managerial. That would confine the parish’s ministry within the horizons of my vision. Instead, I try to encourage a culture of openness to God’s values where we all risk God’s leading. So we study Scripture together to become people who recognise and respond to God’s promptings; promptings that might come to any of us. Do you wonder if Scripture tells us that God works through weakness and not strength? Remember the central symbol of our faith is our crucified Saviour. And we see this God-is-most-present-in-our-weakness theme throughout the story of Jesus’s life – even from before his birth. It’s what we see in today’s Gospel.

Today we met two first-time mums-to-be; Mary and Elizabeth. Now if God were in the life-coaching business, I’m pretty sure consideration would have been given to choosing experienced mums for today’s two babies, John and Jesus. There’d have been a worldwide search for mums with a proven track-record of raising A-grade gifted and talented children; supermums fit to raise tomorrow’s little leaders. But that’s not how God operates. Elizabeth and Mary had no prior experience of raising their own children. Mary, maybe shell-shocked, set off on a four-day journey to be with Elizabeth. There’s the God’s-strength-in-our-weakness thing. In Mary, God picked a woman who knew she couldn’t go it alone; she looked for connection with someone else; she found strength by being with someone else in the same boat.

So lesson one for today: this God’s-strength-in-our-weakness thing reveals its true meaning when we’re in community. Lone-ranger spirituality is just silly. Our full humanity is only found in relationship; in community. The quality of our life is not measured in our personal accomplishments, but rather in our belonging.

That’s a message it’s almost impossible for people in our developed-world societies to hear. We live in a media world that tells us home and family are really just a launching pad from which we rocket off into a stellar career, armed with all the competitive edges we need to carve out status for ourselves. That’s incredibly unhealthy. The real heart of being human is found in belonging – like we belong here – among the people who know our weaknesses best. Mary set off to face her predicament together with someone who’d know it from the inside.

So Mary went to Elizabeth’s home. And when Elizabeth heard Mary’s voice, her baby leapt in her womb. Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and said, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.’ Mary responded by saying, ‘My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.’ They were clear it was God who’d done something wonderful; not them. God chose to work these wonders through these ordinary, very vulnerable women.

But it’s not going to be easy. The woman who’ll cradle her newborn in a feeding trough will also see that child of hers die on a cross. And that’s the other lesson about this God’s-strength-in-our-weakness thing. Letting go and letting God might sound easy, but it’s not. Accepting God’s calling doesn’t stop the death of our loved ones; it doesn’t give us the power to stop a world system where the strong seem to crush the weak; where the proud and mighty bray as though the Earth is theirs, and where, at least for a time, it almost seems as if their delusion will prevail.

But our Gospel opens us to the Advent hope. Jesus, who swallowed up the power of this evil once and for all in his death; this same Jesus rose from the dead, and he will return and bring forth in us the resurrection life he has nurtured and cherished in our hearts. He’ll bring it forth throughout the Earth – and our hearts will leap for joy like Elizabeth’s baby on the day of his coming. … So we approach the close of the Advent season in the knowledge that we’re waiting; we’re keeping watch; we’re staying awake; we’re getting ready to meet him on the day of his coming. Today’s lesson from Mary and Elizabeth and God is that none of us is too old, too young, too weak, too silly, too unqualified or inexperienced to be called by God to change things here on Earth. When God calls us, if we can believe that even we can answer and be ready to say yes, then we’ll have used this Advent season well.   Amen