In the name of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
I was at a clergy conference some years ago down in England. At the end of the evening meal one evening, someone suddenly said, “what is the most stupid prayer you ever heard”.
And I have to say that there then followed a very funny half hour as the various clergy from all different kinds of churches put their bids in for the most stupid prayer that they had ever heard.
The winner was – “And Lord, we pray for Beirut… which is in the Lebanon”
And perhaps inevitably, and perhaps more uncomfortably for clergy, the evening went on to a further discussion when someone asked – what is the most stupid sermon you ever heard?
I wonder how you would answer.
I can think of a number of contenders. Very high on my list is a sermon that I heard whilst on holiday some years ago when the preacher began with the words, “In this sermon, I want to explore the question of whether there is resurrection on the moon”.
It didn’t get better than that. The preacher argued amongst himself about whether or not there was resurrection on the moon. And then ended with the words, “…there is of course so much to say that it is impossible to answer this in one sermon, so think of this as part 1. I’ll come back with a definitive answer next week. Amen”.
I never heard the second sermon.
I still don’t know the answer.
I still don’t know whether there will be resurrection on the moon.
And I never really knew what that question meant in the first place.
Which maybe brings us to the Sadducees and the story they brought to Jesus.
Now, one of the extraordinary things about Jesus is the stories that he told.
In just a few lines of text, he left behind him stories which still have resonance with the world today. Some stories which seem perplexing, many which are enlightening. The parables. The prodigal child. The good Samaritan.
They are phenomenal stories which still have the capacity to stop us in our tracks.
And a lot of the gospel readings that we get in church are Jesus telling a story and sometimes we get to hear of those around him talking about the story.
In this Sunday’s story, that dynamic is turned on its head.
Other people tell Jesus a story and ask him to interpret it.
The Sadducees spun him a yarn and asked him to interpret it as a bit of a test.
I’m not sure that we know that much about the Sadducees other than that they were a religious group that didn’t accept that resurrection happened. And in telling their story they are setting Jesus a test. Was he one of them or one of their enemies?
There was this woman who married her man and then he died before they’d had children.
So his brother married her. And he died.
And the next brother married her. And he died.
And his brother married her. And he died.
And the next brother married her. And he died.
And his brother married her. And he died.
And the last brother married her. And he died.
And then she died.
Presumably exhausted.
Whose wife will she be in the resurrection they say.
(They were being sarcastic remember – they didn’t believe in the resurrection anyway).
How would you answer them.
You might have something to say about this woman being treated as the property of a bunch of men.
Patriarchy is strong in this one!
I think if I’d been Jesus I’d have been tempted to roll my eyes and just say, “Well they are all deid anyway. What does it matter.”
And in a way, he does kind of say that. But he does affirm that he believes in a resurrection – but seems pretty clear that his view was that human ordinances are for our earthly existence. And that our being with God will so dominate our heavenly existence that such questions simply die away.
It is a bit like asking whether there is resurrection on the moon.
The idea of resurrection isn’t about sorting out who is whose husband. We have this life to do that – if that is what we are looking for. Some of us doing rather better at it than others.
It is the case that now as then, there are religious people who manage to worship together who have different views about what will happen when we die.
Right at the focal point of this building is a piece of art which clearly addresses what some people were feeling. The reredos behind the High Altar is our Second World War memorial. And the painting on it puts three women at the tomb looking for a body and an angel with rainbow wings is very clearly saying – he is not here he is risen.
It isn’t difficult to see why those who had experienced war at first hand and who were themselves mourning those who never came back wanted to place such an image centre stage in a church such as this one.
They had been to hell and back.
An experience that is not confined to war.
The reading from the second letter to the Thessalonians that we have this morning is the first of several that we get as we approach the end of the church year in a couple of weeks time.
The world for the author of 2 Thessalonians is falling apart. Lawlessness is rife and deception is all around. If feels as though the end times are just around the corner.
I’ve often thought that this world view felt far away. But not so much at the moment.
The author tells their audience to continue to give thanks, stand firm to the traditions they have learned and feel the real comfort of God’s love and grace.
That comfort is not described as being transitory, nor even long lasting. It is described as being eternal.
As all seems to be falling apart the author says, the God who loves us gives us grace and good hope.
Not a stupid sermon.
The only sermon worth hearing.
Grace. Love. Hope.
For ever.
10 responses to “The end of the World”
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Mildly serious question that has never occurred to me before. Why does she still get called the Virgin Mary when Jesus had brothers she presumably had in the normal way?
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Well, there are those who try to make the case that she remained “ever” Virgin and that the reference to Jesus’s brothers is an oblique and more general reference to the men of the extended family – cousins, uncles and so on. I think that’s rather silly myself.
The Blessed Virgin Mary is simply one of the titles afforded her because of the persistent story of Christ’s birth. For myself, I think there is more interesting theological ground to be ploughed by thinking of her as exemplifying a virgin world waiting in longing and expectation for God to come. That kind of thing seems to me to be considerably more potent than birth-story tittle-tattle.
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When I was young I was sure the birth story was ‘just a myth’ – but then as I got deeper into history I got more experienced at evaluating stories. Not, you understand, ‘form-critical’ experienced, but historical experienced. What now strikes me with force is that two very different writers tell very different stories about the birth of Jesus with very different genealogies. However, despite the two birth stories coming from markedly different traditions, both bill Mary as a virgin. In any other context, I would find that more than convincing. So here, too, I let myself be convinced. As a sober historian, and cynic, I find it the most probably explanation. Not the only historically possible one, just the most generally convincing.
Generally, I find historical thought more satisfying than the more circular arguments of form criticism. I am fairly sure I could use form criticism to disprove the fact that David Cameron is currently the PM.
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Thanks – I have no problem with the virgin birth, its been humanly possible for decades now so I reckon God could have arranged it easily enough a couple of thousand years ago.
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Well, actually it is NOT humanly possible – even with IVF. You cannot get a boy baby, humanly speaking, without a father. But then, humanly speaking, bodies do not resurrect, and walk and talk and eat…
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Rosemary, I think you are being a bit technical. Where I come from a virgin is someone who hasn’t had sex.
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The problem is that it is not the ‘having sex’ but the chromosomes in the baby. Or to put it another way – how did Jesus get his X? It is easy enough to get pregnant without ‘having sex’ but harder without ‘having sperm’. Despite that, the evidence is that two unrelated stories believe it was done. And two unrelated stories believe the babe was born in Bethlehem. Very interesting.
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From God?
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Sperm from God? Not I think, stories ‘from God’ except in the general sense that all understanding is divine. No. Stories from history. And the biology? Truly beyond current understanding. But, here you have it – if one understands it ceases to be amazing and people say : ‘Now we understand, that is not a miracle and Jesus is not form God.’ And if we do not understand, people say: ‘We do not understand and so it cannot have happened, and Jesus is not from God.’
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If I didn’t believe God could knock out a few sperm as and when required I would have Sunday mornings free.
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