So over the opening chapters of the book of Romans, Paul has been steadily building up his case for the amazing central truth of the gospel – that it is through Jesus Christ, through the gift of grace, that we have standing before God.
In the opening chapters of his letter to the Church in Rome, Paul is walking a tightrope – or perhaps better, he’s trying to thread a needle. At the heart of his whole argument, at the heart of what he is trying to teach – indeed, at the heart of the Gospel that he is proclaiming, is that amazing, earth-shattering declaration that we reflected on two weeks ago: that we are saved by grace.
Last week, when I spoke about the Trinity, I suggested that the doctrine of the Trinity was not so much a set of formal propositions, a formulation to be learned and believed and recited, as it was an attempt to describe the indescribable, to put into words the experience of the people of God: that they encounter God – the one God, who is all in all – in many different ways: that the God who those first followers of Jesus worshipped in the Temple and the Synagogue as creator of the whole universe, and as the God of the people of Israel, was also the God spoken of in the language of the Spirit, the ruach, the dynamic divine energy experienced by the people through history and then most dramatically at Pentecost; and was also the God that had been revealed to them in human form in the person of Jesus Christ; that each of these was a true encounter with the fulness of God, but that when you come to speak of the nature of God, language lets you down, and all descriptions are partial, tentative, analogies.
The Sunday after Pentecost Sunday is probably one of the least observed festivals of the Christian year. So you are fully excused if you didn’t know that today is Trinity Sunday. To be honest, I don’t think I’d have realised either, if it hadn’t been for an argument on the subject breaking out amongst some of my theologian friends on Facebook….
And I’m absolutely sure that the reason Trinity Sunday gets so little play in the Christian calendar is that the idea of speaking on the subject of the Trinity sends preachers everywhere into fits of despair.
What do you say after the resurrection?
The gospel writers each spend a large chunk of their work on the days leading up to the death of Jesus, to the crucifixion itself, and to the events of Easter Sunday, the miracle when death ran backwards and Jesus was alive and with them again.
By contrast, Matthew devotes just 5 verses to Jesus’ appearances after that first day; Mark has half a chapter; Luke has the story of the Emmaus road, and then Jesus appearing to all the disciples and eating fish to prove he wasn’t a ghost; John gives us most, with the story of Thomas, breakfast on the beach, and the restoration of Peter.
After Jesus had spoken these words, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you”
It’s one of those words, isn’t it. We all have a pretty clear sense of what it means, the vibe of the thing, but it’s hard to pin down. Especially when it comes to the glory of God.
Today’s reading from the gospels includes some of the most wonderful words of Jesus, and some of the most problematic, all wrapped together into a single saying.
“I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except by me”
If you look today’s reading, John 10:1-10, up in most Bibles you’ll find it under the subheading “Jesus the Good Shepherd”. And no wonder – that’s the bit of the passage that we know, that’s the famous bit, the bit which is found in a thousand works of art, countless religious images. Jesus the Good Shepherd, carrying a sheep over his shoulders, guiding and protecting his flock.
As we travel through the weeks of Lent, we’re taking the time to look at a series of encounters between Jesus and different people who came across his path.
Last week we had the story of Jesus and Nicodemus; today, the Samaritan woman at the well. Two stories that are placed almost next to one another, and yet, in many ways, couldn’t be more different.
Genesis 12:1-4 | John 3:1-17
A couple of favourite passages come together, today. Our New testament reading from John, containing as it does the most cited verse in the Bible – John 3:16 – a favourite, especially, it seems, of people who hold up banners at American sporting events.
Encounters with Jesus.
For the next six weeks, as we journey through this time of Lent, the traditional forty days that lead up to Holy Week, to the death and resurrection of Jesus, we’re going to make that journey through a series of encounters with Jesus.
Last week we explored the way that Jesus, in his teaching on the sermon on the mount, declared that he was not abolishing, but fulfilling the law and the prophets.
And there’s a very important idea hidden in that phrase; that Jesus did not say “I have not come to abolish the law but to fulfil it” – he said “I have not come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come to fulfil them”
Isaiah 58:1-8 | Matthew 5:13-20
It’s a sad truth – but the Bible doesn’t always say what we want it to say, what we think it ought to say, what it would say if we wrote it. And that is certainly the case when it comes to Jesus’ words about the Old Testament law in our gospel reading today.
Micah 6:1-8 | Matthew 5:1-12
In Matthew’s gospel, Jesus’ three years or so of ministry is bookended by the word disciples. It begins, with the calling of disciples, and ends with the great commission, to go and make disciples of all nations.