Short Sermon for the Second Sunday in Advent
At this service, the words of absolution are to be given to people individually by the laying on of hands. The emphasis of the service is a proper celebration of the Christian understanding of penance and forgiveness.
If you attend an American university you can chop your degree into two parts, the major and the minor. Its become an accepted verb to say that ‘I’m majoring’ in this or that. Today I want to think about forgiveness as one of the Church’s sacrament, sacred actions, which has two facets; a major and minor.
The first part of the story of forgiveness is our sins, the fall of mankind which begins in the third chapter of Genesis. After the armistice of World War I, many men returned from battle unable to connect not only with their families and wider communities but with what the Church was doing. In many parishes the churches carried on doing the same old things as if not much had happened. To many of these scarred veterans it all seemed incomprehensible and parochial. Christmas in particular seemed a tweed nonsense nested, and almost lost, in the verbosity of the liturgy. It took an imaginative Anglican priest to decide to address this by creating, the service of Nine Lesson and Carols. The lessons don’t start with Bethlehem or even the angel Gabriel but take us right back to the genesis of our sins, the fall of Adam and Eve. Nine Lessons and Carols was a simple formula which made the story of the Bible accessible to the masses.
The Scriptures and the Christian tradition speak of our sinfulness as a fundamental break in our relationship with our creator. In seeking restoration we are seeking to mend not only our own personal sins but also our lack of justice and concerns for our neighbour. The ancients saw humanity acting as a single body, no one could shrug their shoulders and say “I wasn’t there governor!” or to quote Cain the first murder: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” This idea of us all being responsible is a difficult concept for us to get in our individualistic culture and it makes preaching, ‘we all crucified Jesus’ almost indigestible to modern listeners. Profoundly movie director Mel Gibson understood this in the Passion of the Christ when he insisted on using his own hands to film the knocking of the huge nails in the hands of the actor playing Jesus.
On one level we can be too casual about our need of God’s forgiveness. “I’m as a good a person as the next” is a frequent rebuttal to religious piety. But the misunderstanding is that goodness in the Bible is not defined as an average of the British population. The New Testament is clear that there is only one standard, Jesus Christ. He is the measure against we must measure our goodness. Paul says quite clearly “All have fallen short of the glory of God”.
The second part of the story of forgiveness is what God is doing for us through Jesus Christ. My first real experience of forgiveness as a sacramental action of the church was going to confession for the first time at the age of 21. The elderly priest was a dear friend, almost an uncle, and an exceptionally wise man. As many of you know I gave our son his middle name, Douglas. Yet on that day I remained scared stiff as I knelt by his side. I was going not with a heavy list of sins but had come to an awareness that if I was to minister to other and grow spiritually I had take on some discipline like this. I was a reluctant penitent. As I waffled and stuttered my list of faults, rehearsed over many days, I looked up and became aware of the old priest's face holding an incredible warmth and compassion. After giving me my very easy penance he lay his hands on my head and said the words of absolution. At that singular moment, like none before, I knew God loved me. For days I was high as kite and light on my feet. I got a taste for it and I now see as part of the church’s healing ministry.
This is the second part of the story of forgiveness and can you guess which is the major and which is the minor. I had spent days sweating over what I was going to say, focussing earnestly on my sins. But this was a minor issue in respect to the love I was to experience. Yes, the discipline of knowing our sins, acknowledging our part in the tragedy of the fall is important but it is second fiddle in comparison to the experience of God’s total forgiveness and all encompassing love. Yes, confession is underrated and underused but God’s love is the end point.
Here’s a liturgical thought. When the priest says, ‘Let us confess our sins in penitence and faith.’ What do you do in these few seconds, what races through your mind? Its very difficult to list a range of sins in such short time unless we have prepared for it. It maybe useful to offer in prayer one or two things but let in this liturgical pause let us swing it the other way around and not think so much about us, but rather about God. Let us celebrate his mercy.
Name your sins but more importantly – name your saviour.
At this service, the words of absolution are to be given to people individually by the laying on of hands. The emphasis of the service is a proper celebration of the Christian understanding of penance and forgiveness.
If you attend an American university you can chop your degree into two parts, the major and the minor. Its become an accepted verb to say that ‘I’m majoring’ in this or that. Today I want to think about forgiveness as one of the Church’s sacrament, sacred actions, which has two facets; a major and minor.
The first part of the story of forgiveness is our sins, the fall of mankind which begins in the third chapter of Genesis. After the armistice of World War I, many men returned from battle unable to connect not only with their families and wider communities but with what the Church was doing. In many parishes the churches carried on doing the same old things as if not much had happened. To many of these scarred veterans it all seemed incomprehensible and parochial. Christmas in particular seemed a tweed nonsense nested, and almost lost, in the verbosity of the liturgy. It took an imaginative Anglican priest to decide to address this by creating, the service of Nine Lesson and Carols. The lessons don’t start with Bethlehem or even the angel Gabriel but take us right back to the genesis of our sins, the fall of Adam and Eve. Nine Lessons and Carols was a simple formula which made the story of the Bible accessible to the masses.
The Scriptures and the Christian tradition speak of our sinfulness as a fundamental break in our relationship with our creator. In seeking restoration we are seeking to mend not only our own personal sins but also our lack of justice and concerns for our neighbour. The ancients saw humanity acting as a single body, no one could shrug their shoulders and say “I wasn’t there governor!” or to quote Cain the first murder: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” This idea of us all being responsible is a difficult concept for us to get in our individualistic culture and it makes preaching, ‘we all crucified Jesus’ almost indigestible to modern listeners. Profoundly movie director Mel Gibson understood this in the Passion of the Christ when he insisted on using his own hands to film the knocking of the huge nails in the hands of the actor playing Jesus.
On one level we can be too casual about our need of God’s forgiveness. “I’m as a good a person as the next” is a frequent rebuttal to religious piety. But the misunderstanding is that goodness in the Bible is not defined as an average of the British population. The New Testament is clear that there is only one standard, Jesus Christ. He is the measure against we must measure our goodness. Paul says quite clearly “All have fallen short of the glory of God”.
The second part of the story of forgiveness is what God is doing for us through Jesus Christ. My first real experience of forgiveness as a sacramental action of the church was going to confession for the first time at the age of 21. The elderly priest was a dear friend, almost an uncle, and an exceptionally wise man. As many of you know I gave our son his middle name, Douglas. Yet on that day I remained scared stiff as I knelt by his side. I was going not with a heavy list of sins but had come to an awareness that if I was to minister to other and grow spiritually I had take on some discipline like this. I was a reluctant penitent. As I waffled and stuttered my list of faults, rehearsed over many days, I looked up and became aware of the old priest's face holding an incredible warmth and compassion. After giving me my very easy penance he lay his hands on my head and said the words of absolution. At that singular moment, like none before, I knew God loved me. For days I was high as kite and light on my feet. I got a taste for it and I now see as part of the church’s healing ministry.
This is the second part of the story of forgiveness and can you guess which is the major and which is the minor. I had spent days sweating over what I was going to say, focussing earnestly on my sins. But this was a minor issue in respect to the love I was to experience. Yes, the discipline of knowing our sins, acknowledging our part in the tragedy of the fall is important but it is second fiddle in comparison to the experience of God’s total forgiveness and all encompassing love. Yes, confession is underrated and underused but God’s love is the end point.
Here’s a liturgical thought. When the priest says, ‘Let us confess our sins in penitence and faith.’ What do you do in these few seconds, what races through your mind? Its very difficult to list a range of sins in such short time unless we have prepared for it. It maybe useful to offer in prayer one or two things but let in this liturgical pause let us swing it the other way around and not think so much about us, but rather about God. Let us celebrate his mercy.
Name your sins but more importantly – name your saviour.
