The Promise of Inheritance

Homily at Our Lady of the Valleys for Holy Family, Year B.

One day, a man heard that a distant relative had died. Soon after, a package arrived, containing his unexpected inheritance: a violin and a painting. He sent them for valuation, and received the results: “What you have is a genuine Van Gogh and an original Stradivarius.” The heir was delighted and cried out: “I can sell these for millions!” The valuer stopped him “Not so fast, she said. Stradivarius wasn’t much of a painter… and Van Gogh made lousy violins.”

Inheritance! There are few topics with the power to bring so much hope and so much disappointment to families. You can hear Abraham’s disappointment at the thought he wouldn’t be able to pass on his wealth to his own son… and the power of the promise which God then made to him.

In the sixteen years I’ve been a priest, I’ve heard so many stories about lives ruined by disputes about inheritance. Someone was promised verbally that they would receive something, but this was never written into the Will. Or there was an assumption that a family member would divide up items of sentimental value a certain way, but that didn’t happen. The fallout can divide families for years, or forever.

Now I’m the first to recognise that when you expect to inherit something, it’s easy to daydream. My parents own a house, and when the time comes, its value will probably be split between my brother and myself. I could dream of a round-the-world holiday, or buying a brand-new car, or sponsoring some expensive charitable project. Or perhaps we’ll keep the house, or my brother will buy out my share. Yet maybe none of that will happen. Perhaps the house will have to be sold to pay for care home fees – or a survey might find an old mineshaft under its foundations and make it worthless. So I can dream, but I would be foolish to plan a future based on something I might never receive.

Yes, inheritance is beset by problems. Promises which are neither transparent nor fixed in writing. Hopes which may be dashed by circumstances. And cases where it’s not easy to see what a fair share looks like.

Imagine, for a moment, that you have four grown-up daughters.

• Angela never married, and has spent the last 20 years looking after you in your own home.
• Bridie married a teacher, but isn’t able to have any children.
• Christine married a very wealthy businessman, who is like another son to you. They have two children.
• Deborah defied your wishes and married a man with a criminal record who you thought was totally unsuitable. They have four children.

Now, it’s time to write your will. What do you do? Deborah’s family has the greatest needs: the children are nearly old enough for university. Christine’s children have all the money they need, but if you leave nothing to them, that will look mean. If you leave the house to Angela, there won’t be much money to donate to the rest of the family – but if you sell the house to give a share to each daughter or a share to each grandchild, where will Angela live? It would certainly seem unfair to make Angela homeless, but there are ways of leaving property “in trust” so its value can be shared out later.

I once used this example in another parish; a solicitor present told me afterwards that English Law would by default give equal shares to each daughter, but takes no account of grandchildren: “they are their parents’ responsibility”. His practical experience suggested that leaving grandchildren more than a token amount in a Will tends to cause conflict.

Sometimes there will be no easy answers – but there will be traps that we can avoid. Inheritance might not feel like a very Christmassy topic, but as we make New Year’s Resolutions this weekend we might want to include some good decisions which will avoid broken promises or shattered hopes. So here are some tips:

Be pro-active. None of us knows the day or hour when our Will will become effective. If you haven’t made one, your wishes surely won’t be carried out.

Be consistent. If you’ve made a promise that someone will receive something, take steps to make that official as soon as possible, by at least adding a codicil to your will. But if circumstances have changed and you’re not willing to keep the promise, it’s on you to walk it back in a way that minimises damage.

Be generous. Apply our Christian values and pray about the decisions you will need to make. A will is not a place to punish people – Jesus asks us not to judge others in this way.

Are you angry with a deceased relative for not including you in their will? Let it go. It was never your money in the first place. Pray for their soul!

Are you angry with a living relative for not sharing a portion of their inheritance with you? Let it go. They have had their reward already. Pray for their conversion!

Are you angry because the executor of a will is being slow to give you your inheritance? Let it go. God will allow your portion to come to you at a time when you’ll need it. Love and bless your adversary!

While you’re making your New Year Resultions, think also of the other crucial conversations which we put off having in families. Does your next of kin wish to be an organ donor? Do elderly parents need to put in place a Lasting Power of Attorney for healthcare or financial decisions? When will you have that conversation about burial or cremation, and whether you want Mass offered for your soul?

Today’s readings are also about promises being kept. God made good on the promise that Abraham would have a Son – and Mary and Joseph kept the Covenant by presenting Baby Jesus in the Temple. When it comes to arrangements for frailty and inheritance, we rely on others to carry our what was promised in good faith. To keep a promise is a sacred duty and, when done for our parents, is the keeping of one of the Ten Commandments. If we do the right thing by God, God will do the right thing by us. That’s a promise!

Who’s In Charge?

Homily at Our Lady of the Valleys for Christmas 2023.

Who’s in charge around here?

At Christmas time, we often look back at the year ending, and it seems to me the big question of 2023 might be, “Who’s in charge?”

Maybe you saw the Oppenheimer movie this summer. The story of the atom bomb is the story of America saying “We don’t want the Enemy in charge, so we need to build this terrible weapon before they do.” But I think the movie director also wanted you to think about the project director – who was blocked from becoming a Cabinet minister by the US Congress – and made a political movie about who’s really in charge.

Here in Britain we’ve had the same Prime Minister for more than a year, after a turbulent time of change, but by next Christmas we will have had an election which will force all of us to ask, “Who do I want to be in charge?” We have the privilege of living in a democracy so please choose to consider the question and use your vote prayerfully.

Maybe you saw the Barbie movie this summer. I think that director wanted you to ask, wouldn’t the world be so much better if more women were in charge?

But now we’ve just heard the comfortable Christmas story celebrated again, a story where the director – God, in this case – is asking you, “Wouldn’t the world be so much better if this Baby were in charge?”

For the child we celebrate today is the Prince of Peace, the Lord of Lords, the gentle king who does not impose his ways on us but invites us to open our hearts to him. That a woman should have a baby is not an unusual story. That a Virgin should bear a child is more remarkable. That the child should grow up to be violently executed and yet appear very much alive on the third day is a remarkable claim indeed. But is it Barbie or Oppenheimer? Is it a fantasy of how the world could be different, or a historical account of a seismic event which reshaped human history?

I was thinking of another movie a couple of months ago. I took a short cruise to Ephesus, the place where the Virgin Mary lived out her latter years. When I was at the front of the ship I did what any movie fan would do – I did the Titanic pose. You know the one where the Jack character played by Leonardo di Caprio pretends he’s flying and calls out, “I’m the King of the World!”?

Well, I’m not the King of the World. But the Baby whose birth we celebrate today is. He is a gentle king who does not impose his reign but asks us to vote for him with each word and action that we take.

When Titanic was in the cinema, so many people watched it again and again, because who doesn’t want to dream about a love story like that? And we celebrate Christmas again and again because our hearts hear the same message of hope. And it’s true. Christmas is a story of love and hope. God loved us so much that he sent Baby Jesus to do what was needed to open the gates of heaven. At this time of year we focus on doing good deeds, Christmas cheer, peace and goodwill to all people. But in the New Year, we’ll go back to normal – unless we choose not to. Instead we could continue to ask the question, “Who’s in charge around here?”

When we ask, “Is God in charge of the world?” we will surely think of the worst things that happen in our world. I’m sure you’re as horrified as I am at the human tragedy unfolding in Gaza, following the abhorrent attack on Israel in October. Lives continue to be lost on the border of Ukraine and Russia too. But if we dare to ask what God is doing about these dark situations, we will find God confronting us about our own willingness to make peace with our enemies. Maybe we can do little about these far-distant conflicts, but we can choose to bring peace to some of the unresolved tensions in our own life, in situations which require us to ask forgiveness, drop a grudge, or eat humble pie. Our willingness, or not, to do these things leads to another question.

“Is Jesus in charge of my life?”

Does Jesus ask more of me than simply being kind to the other people I meet, and making peace with my enemies? If the baby we celebrate today is also the Judge we will meet on the day we draw our last breath, surely it’s important to know on what he is going to judge us?

For that reason I’d like to invite you to try out a little course we’re running called Following Christ. For seven weeks you get a chance to think about these deep questions of life, in good company. It launches in January in Treforest, but you can also join by Zoom. Just as the birth of Jesus was the beginning of something new for Mary and Joseph, so drawing close to Jesus can be a new beginning for each one of us. 

Who’s in charge around here? For now, you are. You are the captain of your soul, unless you’ve already given it to Jesus. But one day you will meet your Maker. The answers you seek are found not in a nuclear weapon or the battle of the sexes, but in the true King of the World, the baby whose birth we celebrate this night/day. As a Christmas gift to you, I offer you eternal life. Will you give your life to the Baby of Bethlehem, trusting that he will give you so much more in return? When you are ready to learn his ways, come and follow him. And a Happy Christmas to you all.

Glory to God in the Highest

Homily at Our Lady of the Valleys for the 4th Sunday of Advent, Year B.

Glory to God in the highest! In the next few days we’ll hear much of these timeless words, sung by herald angels, sometimes rendered in Latin as Gloria in excelsis Deo.

When I was a chaplain to Deaf people I learned to celebrate Mass using British Sign Language. In BSL, there are not one but two signs for Glory. When we praise God, the glory goes upwards; but when God glorifies us, the sparkle comes down. Today it’s the first kind of glory I invite us to ponder, the glory that we – and the herald angels – can give to God.

St Paul concludes his letter to the Christians in Rome by exclaiming “Glory to him who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News I preach!” Paul asks the Romans in their turn to give glory to Our Father in Heaven, through Jesus Christ.

King David deeply desired to give glory to God by building a Temple, but accepted the Prophet Nathan’s word that this task was to be left for his son. Our Blessed Mother, carrying baby Jesus in her womb, would proclaim the great song of praise which we call the Magnificat – which can be translated as: “My soul glorifies the Lord”.

So I ask you to take a moment to ponder this morning: have you come here to glorify God?

There are many reasons we might be at Mass. Perhaps there’s someone we want to pray for. Or maybe we’re here out of a sense of duty. But on the brink of Christmas, let’s set our sights higher. We’re about to celebrate how shepherds came and honoured the new-born Christ. Then we’ll tell the story of how wise men from the East made a long and perilous journey to do him homage. They were caught up in a sense of awe and wonder. At every Mass I give the invitation: “Let us give thanks to the Lord our God”, and you reply “It is right and just” – or in the older translation, you would say “It is right to give Him thanks and praise.”

But why should we worship God? God is love. God is perfect. God doesn’t need us to pay him compliments to make him happy.

One reason is that God deserves it. God is worthy! If we say thank-you to human beings for small acts of kindness, how much more should we do this for the one who both created us, and who has saved us from the eternal consequences of our faults and failings?

Another is that God commands it. The first great commandment that Jesus Christ gave us is to “love God with all your heart and soul and might and strength”. One way we express this is by singing. It’s because we’re called to praise God that the Catholic Church designed Mass as a prayer with parts to be sung. Singing is what we do naturally at meaningful occasions. At a birthday party, we sing Happy Birthday to You, or at a football match we sing the team anthem.

The people’s parts of the Mass come from the great songs of praise in the Bible. Holy Holy is from Isaiah’s vision of angels worshipping God in heaven. The Glory to God in the Highest – which of course we don’t sing in Advent – comes from St Luke’s account of the herald angels appearing to shepherds with glad tidings of great joy.

Why else should we worship? It’s good for us! The famous prayer of St Francis notes that “in giving, we receive”. If we’re the kind of people who choose to give praise to God, we will become shaped more like holy people, and be more receptive to the special help, called grace, that God wants to offer to us.

Now, here’s a secret: there are days when I don’t feel like praising God. Something’s gone wrong, the weather is dismal, or I’m feeling poorly. But I choose to praise God anyway, believing in His love and forgiveness. Just as smiling makes you feel happier, praising God lifts your spirit, even from a low starting point. That’s why, in recent weeks, I’ve been encouraging you to sing not just hymns but the prayer chants too during Mass. We are a people of praise, and singing enhances our glorification of God.

Consider Mary, visited by the Angel Gabriel with an astonishing message. Mary, the Ark of the Covenant, responded with awe and humility, glorifying God through her fiat, her resounding “YES.” Glory would unfold through her Son’s miracles and triumph over death, but also through her acceptance of the hardships that came with embracing God’s plan. Doubted by Joseph, shunned by her friends, and exiled into Egypt, Mary’s heart echoed, “This is God’s plan. Let it be. Glory to God!”

If we truly understand the Angel’s message to Mary, we can’t keep quiet about it. We will “go tell it on the mountains” and in the valleys and wherever we can. But first the good news of Christ must enter our hearts. Do we yet know, deep down, those truths that matter: that Jesus loves us, died for us, and longs to walk with us each day to guide us and lead us all the way to heaven? If your heart still hesitates, ask God for a special gift this Christmas. Ask for the gift of faith.

With St Paul, I proclaim to you Good News: Jesus Christ, the revelation of a mystery kept secret for endless ages, but now so clear that it must be broadcast to people everywhere. The world must believe in Jesus, so that all people may worship and praise him. This is all part of the way the eternal God wants things to be. He alone is wisdom; give glory therefore to him through Jesus Christ for ever and ever. Amen.

The Blessing of Sinners

This week the Vatican issued a very long declaration reminding me that, as a priest, I am allowed to bless sinners.

This should not be a surprise. Given that, according to Scripture, even the just man sins seven times a day, everyone I ever bless is a sinner.

But of course, the fraught context of this declaration is the knotty problem of people in relationships which are at odds with the Church’s teaching. And this returns us to the harsh reality that most people who identify as members of the Catholic Church are not yet intentional disciples – they have not yet reached that place of inner conversion where they have made a personal decision to follow Jesus, no matter what the cost. Having a conversation about the kind of sexual behaviour which is forbidden to disciples is not easy when the person you’re having it with is not yet a disciple. Only a person who has fallen deeply in love with Jesus will be ready to forsake other human desires for His sake.

It seems to me that this declaration will satisfy no-one. Those pushing for Catholic recognition of same-sex unions or remarriage after divorce will be dismayed that the kind of blessings permitted are meant for small, private meetings with a priest or deacon, not for public ceremonies in any way akin to the trappings of a white wedding. Those wishing the Church to take a clear stand that such relationships are sinful will complain that these kind of blessings muddy the waters and obscure the Church’s clear teaching. Some will call this the first stage of Catholic “recognition” of same-sex relationships. But I don’t know if this the first pause on a journey into abandoning the Church’s Gospel-based teaching or the last halt on a journey to meet sinners on the margins, the Church in the spirit of Francis going as far as she can possibly go. The sign that this was merely a first step would be that a second step follows. But such a step would require a change in doctrine, not merely in pastoral praxis.

Traditional Catholic morality has emphasised prudence and the need to avoid the occasion of sin. By doing this it continues the Pharasaical practice of the “hedge around the Law”. If God has made a law which human beings ought not transgress under any circumstances, we should make a practical rule which is stricter. If we carelessly break the human rule at least we probably won’t have broken Divine Law. Where the Torah forbids giving more than 40 lashes, the hedged law forbids giving more than 39, just in case your counting is off. But Jesus was not impressed with the legalism of the Pharisees of his day, and had a reputation for spending time with “sinners”.

The question at the heart of all of this, is what is a blessing? When an object is blessed, it is set apart for a sacred purpose, although the post-Vatican II liturgical Book of Blessings is notorious for containing prayers for the people who use the object and almost denying that a thing can be made sacred in itself. But when a person is blessed, the minister is invoking God’s grace, help and protection on that person in some particular context which is the reason for the blessing. The Church regards an exorcism as a particular kind of blessing; we might also call prayer ministry, as widely practiced within Catholic Charismatic Renewal, a form of blessing.

Can I bless individuals who are not living a morally perfect life? It has long been the custom, officially recognised by the Bishops of England and Wales, to offer a gesture of blessing to non-communicants in the communion queue at Mass. There are many reasons a person might seek a blessing – one is that they are in a sexual relationship which the Church cannot recognise liturgically; another is that they are Christians of another tradition. I am not required to enquire into the moral or spiritual state of those standing before me in the communion line.

In 2021, the Vatican issued a negative response to a question about whether one may bless same-sex unions. This week’s declaration is being trailed by many media outlets as a reveral of this policy. But I don’t think that’s correct. It remains the case that I cannot bless sin. I cannot invoke God’s favour on anything God has revealed to be unfavourable. But I can bless the individuals who are in a sinful relationship, and I can bless the elements of a relationship which are good.

If two people are in a long-term committed relationship of self-sacrificing support, in which they are striving to be more considerate and charitable to one another, there is much good present. Can I bless their love? Yes, in as much as agape love is a good thing. Can I pray for them to grow in mutual support and friendship? Yes. Can I bless their sexual intimacy with each other? No. Essential to any blessing I might give them is that I am praying for them to remain chaste, to not tempt one another into sexual sin, and to become the kind of disciples who eventually realise their lifestyle can never be fully pleasing to God. Now, I might not say that aloud – but that is what I will be praying for should I be asked to bless any couple in a relatioship which cannot be regularised.

Blessing sinners is a messy business. It opens us up to accusations that we are blessing sin, even when we are skirting very carefully around the edges of not doing so. Refusing to offer such blessings gives the Church a clearer corporate message about what we believe is beyond the pale – but if we want to meet people where they are at, and win the trust which is the essential first step of the path of drawing someone to discipleship, we might have to start by blessing everything which is good in their lives, even if that includes relationships which have the potential to be occasions of sin.

Message at the join Anglican-Catholic Carol Service in Ton-Pentre

Reflection following a reading from C. S. Lewis

What would you like for Christmas?

I grew up in a family where, rather than surprise each other, we tended to check out what we’d like to get. So on Christmas Day there were few surprises but much satisfaction.

CS Lewis, writing in the days before the Internet, already saw the danger of the commercial bustle which makes Christmas so busy that Christ is in danger of getting cancelled. These days the incessant tug of technology forces us to attend to Christmas greetings randomly popping up on WhatsApp, Facebook, the app formerly known as Twitter and good old fashioned email. Right now I’m feeling like I’m losing track of who greeted me where and how I am going to reply.

What would you like for Christmas?

I’d like a little more time and a little less pressure, please. Some families are choosing not to do gifts this Christmas, recognising the pressure of the cost of living. Others to choose to make gifts to charity in the name of their loved ones. And I tremble to say this as the son of a postman, but when we think of the environmental impact of printing, sending and binning so many Christmas Cards, I do wonder if an electronic solution is better.

What would you like for Christmas?

If you’re living in a war zone, like the people of Gaza and eastern Ukraine, you’d like the fighting to stop. All the talk of peace on earth and goodwill to humankind rings hollow when you’re not experiencing it.

What would you like for Christmas?

I’d like a new baby please. And not just any baby. The one in the manger. I’d like a chance to stop and wonder at what it means for the God of the Universe, the Word through whom all things were made, to become vulnerable and dwell among us. I’d like to have time, like the shepherds and wise men, to simply gaze at God’s most precious gift to us and wonder at the gift of love this represents. Sometimes we might feel angry with God for the state of the world. We might cry out to God, “Why don’t you do something?” And Our Father in heaven replies: “I have done something. I sent you this Baby. Stop and listen to his message!”

We can’t fix the problems of wars in far distant places. But we can fix the family feuds which are closer to home. We don’t need to take offence, even where someone is trying to give it. We don’t need to insist that the other person has to say sorry first. We can extend the olive branch to anyone we’ve been in conflict with. That would be a beautiful gift for the Baby.

What would you like for Christmas?

I’d like some new people to visit a church – and get drawn into the life of that community of faith until they become part of the church family. If you’re here tonight and you don’t often go to church, why not make that your new year’s resolution? The Bible promises that if you seek God and really want to find Him, he will be there for you.

And to those here tonight who are church regulars, remember when you go to Church for Christmas to greet the strangers and the visitors before you greet your friends. Mary and Joseph, strangers in a busy city, were given the greeting of an innkeeper who wouldn’t turn them away. Let’s have that same spirit of looking out for all in need.

What would you like for Christmas?

I’d like what I already have, please. Emmannuel, which means God is with us. As we sing the next carol, let’s come to the manger in our hearts. Here in the manger is someone who loves you; he gave his life to save you; and now he is living at your side every day to enlighten, strengthen and free you. He is the original Christmas Gift. He gave himself to us. Let us in our turn give him to the world. Come, Emannuel. Come and bring peace to the land of your birth. Come and bring peace to the whole world. And change our hearts, that we may make peace with one another and worship at your feet. Come, Lord Jesus, and do not delay! And may God bless us, every one.

Choose to Change

Homily at Our Lady of the Valleys for the 2nd Sunday of Advent, Year B.

In the wilderness, prepare, a voice cries out!

But why the wilderness? Is it the place where a voice cries out? There’s not much point shouting your message in an empty place!

Or is the wilderness the place where we are called to prepare? Is it about that wild place within us which is untended because we don’t want to go there?

Today’s readings should fill us with hope, and with frustration. We’re offered a beautiful picture of what happens when God returns – an end to fear, a place of safety, a city of peace. But we live in a world marked by anxiety and conflict. This is our wilderness. This is the world in which we must prepare for God’s coming.

When will God return to earth? Not before everyone has changed their ways for the better. And so in the busyness of preparing for Christmas, we are called today to prepare our own souls. Where is God asking ME to make a change? Where are the valleys in my life which need to be filled in? Where are the mountains which need to be moved, with God’s help?

It’s time, in fact, to tackle that one thing in your life which you’ve been avoiding looking at for too long. The one that makes you bristle should anyone challenge you about it. The one that you know, if you met Jesus face-to-face, he would ask you about.

Now the business of change is difficult. Over the course of my life, I’ve had my share of people nagging me to change the way I do certain things. And the trouble with nagging is that it puts us on the defensive. Our anger rises up. And that part of our conscience which is nodding and thinking “yes, I should do something about that” gets drowned out.

But I am here standing in the shoes of John the Baptist and of Our Lord Jesus who came to proclaim repentance. Woe to me if I don’t stand here, in turn, and invite you to change! So bear with me, for I will encourage you in the gentlest way possible.

Let’s start with you. First question: What one thing in your life do you know you need to change right now? Is it about diet or exercise? Is it a bad habit, or a broken relationship? Is it about how often you pray, or whether you have the courage to speak about your faith to another person? Whatever it is, it’s the thing causing you to think, right now, “I don’t want to go there!” – but your conscience knows that you should.

Second question. What are you willing to do about it? The trouble with nagging is that when I nag, I am offering you my solutions to your problems. But you don’t think the way I do, and you don’t work the way I do. You might tackle whatever you need to tackle in a quite different way.

Third question: Who can help you to make the change you know you need to make? Maybe it’s that same person who’s been nagging you for months or years? You might need to eat a little humble pie here and go them and say: “You know that thing you’ve been pestering me about? Well, I am willing to do something but I’m going to tackle it this way. Will you help me?” Your helper might be someone who gives practical support, or they might be an accountability buddy who checks in and asks “How’s it going?” every so often. But the work of change is difficult. We’re not meant to do it alone.

In Bible days, the people went to John the Baptist and “took the plunge” as a public sign that they were willing to change. We do the same thing more privately, through the Sacrament of Reconciliation. If you’ve been to me for confession, you’ll know that after I hear the sins, I might well ask, “What changes are you going to make in your life?” This is what we traditionally call a “firm purpose of amendment” – in other words, an action plan to avoid falling into the same sin again.

Now, we might fail. There’s the famous story of the sinner who goes back to confession and says, “Bless me, Father, same old sins.” And the priest replies, “Same old absolution.” The work of filling in valleys and moving mountains is not easy. But today we are called to believe that change for the better is possible.

50 years ago, the M5 motorway opened between Clevedon and Portishead. Preparing a straight way through the Clevedon Hills took hard work and dedication. But it was done. Change is possible. God has already done the heavy lifting – your sin has been dealt with by the Cross. Even if you are in the wilderness, God is only a prayer away. So choose to change. Come to confession.

John the Baptist was the one who pointed to Jesus and said “Here is the Lamb of God!” He is the one who offers us help to change even when we walk in the wilderness. When change isn’t , it’s good to come and sit before Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, adoring the Lamb of God and asking his help for the change we know we need to make.

Today we placed a lamb in our crib scene as a reminder that the True Lamb will come again. There is a regular time in each of our churches when the Blessed Sacrament is exposed; if you are not free on weekday mornings there are two Saturdays each month at All Hallows’. We can have adoration on other days if a few people pledge to come regularly. If God is stirring your heart to say “this is for you”, then have a word with me.

Repentance. Confession. Adoration. God has given you the tools to transform your wilderness. Choose to change – and you will know God’s glory.

Wait ‘Til Your Father Gets Home!

Homily at Our Lady of the Valleys for the 1st Sunday of Advent, Year B.

Wait ‘til your Father gets home!

In some families, that might be spoken as a threat. In others, it might suggest a treat is coming. In the household of God, it means that there will be a reckoning.

Jesus often uses the image of a Master who is away from home to represent God Our Father.

Our Father loves us. Our Father also has high expectations of us.

When I was at school, my headmaster left me in no doubt of his expectations of me. He said so often, in Welsh tones that brooked no argument. “Great things! I’m expecting great things of you, Mr Leyshon!” He could see that I had the potential to do well, and he didn’t want me to fall short.

Jesus looks at us with the same skilled eye of a teacher who wants his disciples to do well, and his message is the same. “Great things! I’m expecting great things of you, my people!”

Jesus often represents God by the image of a Master who has gone away and set us a task, and who will return to see if we have accomplished it. Sometimes the image is of tending a vineyard, other times it is of servants in a house. In the last few weeks we’ve been reminded of the bridesmaids waiting with oil in their lamps, and the servants send out to trade with their talents. Today’s Gospel puts it plainly: Are you awake?

In the last few years we’ve suddenly started using the word “woke” to mean a person who is aware and alert of certain values. But as followers of Jesus we are called to be “awake” to the values of God. Are we awake to the message that we will one day reconnect with God? Our Father has stepped back to give us space to choose to be faithful to Him – or not!

To be a follower of Jesus we need to blend a healthy humility with a quiet confidence. The Prophet Isaiah was able to say: “Lord, you are our Father; we the clay, you the potter, we are all the work of your hand.” With humility he acknowledges that God has the right to shape us and to test us. Yet Isaiah also longs for that distance to be taken away, “Oh, that you would tear the heavens open and come down!”

You’ve probably heard the saying, “Like Father, like Son.” St Paul knows that God did tear the heavens open and come down – in the person of Jesus, who has now Ascended and sits at the right hand of the Father in heaven. It is not only the Master who is now in a far-distant country, but also the Son who will one day return as our Judge. Yet, so that we would not be alone, God has sent the Holy Spirit.

The Spirit dwells in our hearts and offers us gifts of patience and endurance as we wait with joyful hope for the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ.

We shouldn’t take this distance kept by the Father or the Son to mean that God doesn’t care about us or is really far away from us. But it does remind us of the truth that most of us might not sense the presence of God much of the time. And this is why prayer is always an act of faith.

If our Father in heaven were distant or inaccessible, Jesus would not have taught us to pray, “Our Father, who art in heaven…” – but this is precisely the prayer that He taught us. Even when we have no sense of God’s nearness, we are asked to put our faith in Him and ask for what we need. And during the coming year, Pope Francis is inviting us to look afresh at the place of prayer in our lives, in particular to find a new appreciation for those old familiar words of the Lord’s Prayer. That’s one reason why we’re launching a series of prayer experiences in the parish in the new year – and because the winter months are treacherous for travel, we’re starting on Zoom.

As Advent begins, we have a crib erected in church. But it’s not yet complete. Mary and Joseph will not find their place in the stable until Christmas Eve. The Christ-child will come on Christmas Day. Over the next few weeks we will add other things to the Crib as we explore this time of watchful waiting. For today, I have a lamp in a jar. The jar reminds us that we are all clay in the hands of the Potter. The light is the hope that we carry, that our Master will return, that the world will be made new.

The people who live in the Holy Land are sorely in need of light and hope at this time. With conflict continuing in Gaza, many pilgrimages to the Holy Land have been cancelled, and the Catholic Bishops of the Holy Land have asked their people not to hold Christmas festivities this year as a sign of sorrow for the horrors of war. The small Christian communities in Israel and Palestine are especially hard-hit as many of them earn a living from assisting pilgrims. For this reason, Archbishop Mark has directed that part of the Crib Offerings given in our churches this year will be for the support of those Christians, through the charities Friends of the Holy Land and the Equestrian Order of Jerusalem.

“Where is God?” we ask, when our prayers don’t seem to be answered. “Where is God?” when we see the conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza. “Watch and wait,” says Jesus, “wait until your Father gets home. Then there will be a reckoning.” But as we wait, we hope and pray. That’s why I am now placing this lit candle, in its jar, in our crib. Don’t lose hope. Don’t give up. God is faithful. We must keep faith too.