Sermon: Nehemiah 9: 1-38 Saying Sorry

It’s one of the first words that children learn to say, but it’s perhaps one of the words that they don’t really want to say. And so, often, I’ve watched as the child is kept back from playtime or privileges, maybe perched on the naughty step or time out zone, until they say the five letter word. What is it? Sorry. As Elton John once sang, Sorry seems to be the hardest word.

Tonight we’re listening in as the Israelites do just that. They have gathered together to say sorry. The chapter heading put in by the NIV publishers says ‘The Israelites confess their sins’ but that’s another way of them saying sorry to God.

Last week, in chapter 8, we saw how the people had gathered together a few weeks before. Then, they had heard the Book of the Law read out for over five hours. And as they heard God’s Law, they wept, because they realised they had fallen short and failed to obey. But on that occasion, they were told not to weep, because the joy of the Lord is their strength - that joy of hearing, understanding and obeying God’s word.

But now, three weeks later, they are here to do business with God. There’s no party atmosphere this time. They have come to weep and mourn and confess their sins. Do you see how they do it in verse 1? ‘Fasting and wearing sackcloth and having dust on their heads.’ These are all signs of mourning. They are here to confess, to say sorry to God.

Notice that it’s those of Israelite descent (2), they have separated themselves from all foreigners. And they are confessing ‘their sins and the wickedness of their fathers.’ They’re owning up to their own sin, rather than just blaming the generations past. They’re serious about saying sorry. And it shows - for a quarter of the day, they read from the Book of the Law of the LORD their God. Another quarter is spent in confession and in worshipping the LORD their God.

This seems to be private, rather than corporate - each person meeting with God and confessing their own sins. And offering praise to God. but from verse 4 we see what was said from the front, as the Levites (all those guys again) lead the people - calling in loud voices to the LORD their God (4) and in calling the people to ‘Stand up and praise the LORD your God, who is from everlasting to everlasting.’ (5).

The bulk of the chapter, however, is taken up in the form of this long prayer. It appears to be led by the Levites, as they speak to God and confess the sins of the people. But did you notice how it’s composed?

What was your favourite subject in school? Maybe maths or English. Maybe geography or science. Or maybe history. You see, this prayer, this confession, is a retelling of the history of God’s people. This prayer is going to be like a history lesson for God’s people, reminding them (and us) of how things have gone in the history of God’s dealings with his people.

So as the people stand up to praise, that’s where this prayer begins. It begins in praise of God, verse 5-6. There’s praise for God because of who he is, and because of what he has done - his acts of creation. The prayer begins with that desire that God’s glorious name will be blessed and praised, exalted above all blessing and praise. So however much praise anyone else gets - sports stars or pop stars - God’s praise is to be exalted above all other praise. Why? Because God alone is LORD, the God who made everything - the heavens, the starry host, the earth and all on it, the seas and all in them. God made everything, and gave life to everything, so that it is right and proper that the multitudes of heaven worship him.

So when we come to pray, we do well to remember who it is we’re speaking to. His glory, majesty, power. The one who deserves our praise and worship.

From verse 7 through to 15, we get a recap of Israel’s history - all the things that God has done. So, in verse 7, we hear how the LORD God chose Abram, brought him from his homeland, and gave him a new name, Abraham. God then made a covenant with him, to give his descendants the promised land. And the summary is that ‘You have kept your promise because you are righteous.’ (8).

God also saw the suffering of his people in Egypt, and their cry at the Red Sea. And so, God sent miraculous signs and wonders against Pharaoh, working to save his people; and making a name for himself. God split the sea for the Israelites, but drowned their pursuers. And he led his people with the pillar of cloud and the pillar of fire.

And he gave his people his law at Mount Sinai, God coming down to his people, speaking to them from heaven. God fed his people with bread in their hunger, and gave them water when they were thirsty, and told them to go in and take the promised land.

God had done all this, he had provided and protected and fulfilled his promise so many times. And how did the people respond? We see their response in verse 16. ‘But they, our forefathers, became arrogant and stiff-necked, and did not obey your commands. They refused to listen and failed to remember the miracles you performed among them.’

They rebelled against God, even when he had done so much for them. In fact, they even wanted to turn back to Egypt, and appointed a leader to do that. They preferred the thought of slavery, rather than obeying God, whose service is perfect freedom.

What did they deserve from God? They deserved punishment! They had disobeyed, and yet how did God respond? ‘But you are a forgiving God, gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love. Therefore you did not desert them...’ God didn’t abandon them to judgement, didn’t leave them to wander on their own, not even when they made the golden calf. God was patient towards them. They lacked nothing, having God’s provision, God’s Spirit instructing them, and even their clothes didn’t wear out or their feet swell.

Those were the wilderness years. Surely it would be better when they were in the promised land? We see that account from verse 22. God giving kingdoms and nations into their hands. Fulfilling the promise of descendants like the stars in the sky. They captured the land, filled with good things, ‘they ate to the full and were well-nourished; they revelled in your great goodness.’ (25).

But at the start of verse 26, we find that word ‘but’ again. ‘But they were disobedient and rebelled against you; they put your law behind their backs. They killed your prophets, who had admonished them in order to turn them back to you.’ And the pattern would continue. God would send enemies to them, the people would cry out, God would save them, then things would go bad again, and round and round the pattern continued.

But it wasn’t just like playing on a roundabout or a merry-go-round, where you go round and round and then stop where you started. No, this pattern of going round and round was more like a spiral staircase, going round and round, but also going down and down, each time things getting worse, farther and farther from God.

The arrogance continued (29), they continued to turn their backs on God, but God was still patient. Yet God’s patience came to an end, and he handed the people over to the neighbouring peoples. And even then, he didn’t make an end of his people - why? ‘For you are a gracious and merciful God.’ (31)

In verse 32, we see the final plea, the appeal, for God to help his people. They appeal to ‘our God, the great, mighty and awesome God, who keeps his covenant of love’ - asking that God would help them. They know they don’t deserve any help - ‘In all that has happened to us, you have been just; you have acted faithfully, while we did wrong.’ (33). So because they can’t ask for justice, they must ask for grace. They’re in the mess they are in because of their sin.

They’re slaves in their own land. Another king rules over them, enjoying the harvests of the land of promise. And how do they sum up their position? ‘We are in great distress.’ They are experiencing the miseries of sin. They are, as the traditional language service puts it, ‘miserable offenders.’ They don’t deserve anything, but they look to the God of their fathers; the God of the covenant. Did you notice how God has been described?

He’s from everlasting to everlasting; blessed; righteous; the promise-keeper; the Lord who worked miraculous signs and wonders; the provider; forgiving, gracious and compassionate; slow to anger and abounding in love; patient; gracious and merciful.

This is our God. He is the same yesterday and today and forever. He still offers us his compassion and mercy - even when you think you have blown it. There is still the opportunity to come back to him, to turn around and return to him. Indeed, as Romans 5:20 says, ‘where sin increased, grace increased all the more.’

And that grace of God is seen in the cross of the Lord Jesus, where our God took upon himself the penalty our sins deserved, in order to give us his righteousness. Forgiveness is available, freely given, if you’ll but ask and receive it.

For Nehemiah and his people, their repentance leads to action. They make a binding agreement, as they resolve to change. We’ll see it next time we’re in Nehemiah. But tonight, perhaps as you fall asleep, take a few moments to reflect on your own life story, on the ways in which God has been faithful, even when you’ve turned your back on him. And rejoice once more in his grace and mercy, his steadfast, and the forgiveness found in the Lord Jesus.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 27th January 2019.

Sermon: Mark 2: 18-22 All Things New

Have you ever wondered to yourself why we do things the way we do them here in St Matthew’s? Perhaps this is your first visit here, and you’ve had some questions pop into your head this morning. Questions like, why is the minister wearing what looks like a black dress and a white sheet? Or, why do we stand up and sit down so many times? Or, why will we sprinkle some water over Henry’s head in a few minutes’ time?

But even if this is your millionth visit to St Matthew’s, you still might have some questions about why we do things the way we do them. Especially if you’ve been to a different sort of church. So, for example, my brother-in-law is a Presbyterian minister. Right now, he is probably standing in his pulpit, preaching. But if you could change the channel, or if he appeared by videolink on the screen, you would notice some differences in how we do things. He’s wearing a shirt and tie, and no fancy robes. They’ll have sung some Scottish metrical Psalms. They sit down and don’t sing when the offering is being received. And he’ll probably preach for a lot longer than this sermon!

And, when you notice the differences between us, you’d want to know why. Why does he do this, and I do something different? This sort of question is what is happening in our Bible reading this morning. Some people have noticed that Jesus’ disciples, his followers, are doing something different to other religious groups. And so they want to know why that is.

We see how the question comes about there in verse 18 (p1004). ‘Now John’s disciples and the Pharisees were fasting.’ The John there is John the Baptist, the man who had prepared the way for Jesus, and had got people ready for Jesus’ coming. And the Pharisees, they were a Jewish religious group. They hoped that they would bring about God’s kingdom by their keeping of the Old Testament laws. So they didn’t just keep the rules, they made up more rules about the rules, and kept them as well. They were strict in their religious practices.

And both groups, John’s disciples and the Pharisees, were both fasting. That is, they weren’t eating any food, maybe for a day, maybe for longer, for a religious reason. Everyone knew that they were fasting. They made it clear and obvious so that everyone else would know just how seriously they were taking their religion.

So it was also noticeable that Jesus and his disciples weren’t fasting. They were eating as normal. They weren’t keeping the same strict regime as those other religious groups. And that’s why the question is asked of Jesus: ‘How is it that John’s disciples and the disciples of the Pharisees are fasting, but yours are not?’ (18). They’re standing out, not doing something all the other religious people are doing. Why not?

As Jesus answers, he says that, basically, this disciples shouldn’t be fasting when it’s feasting time. Let’s look at what he says: ‘How can the guests of the bridegroom fast while he is with them? They cannot, as long as they have him with them.’ (19)

Today is a special and significant day for Henry and for his family and friends. It’s a day of joy and delight. Imagine if you all gather after the service, only to be told, we aren’t going to have any food or drink to celebrate. We’re just going to keep a fast together. That wouldn’t be much of a party!

And that’s exactly what Jesus is saying. He says that he is the bridegroom, and so there’s a party. Jesus is the one who brings joy - so how could his followers fast and mourn? Some writers suggest that the fasting of the Pharisees may have been in anticipation of the arrival of the long-promised Messiah or Christ, the King who would come to rule over God’s people. But why keep fasting and waiting, whenever Jesus is now here?

That’s why the disciples of Jesus aren’t fasting - the king has come! The reason to celebrate is here! The party has begun. This is why Christians love to sing, why we’re joyful, because we know the difference that Jesus has made in our lives, and is making in our lives. If you’d like to know that joy for yourself, if you’d like to experience it for the first time, or all over again, then I’d be delighted to help you afterwards.

But notice what Jesus goes on to say in verse 20. He’s said that the disciples rejoice because Jesus is with them. ‘But the time will come when the bridegroom will be taken from them, and on that day they will fast.’ Jesus was with the disciples for three years, teaching them, leading them, but then came the time when he was taken from them - Jesus is referring there to his death on the cross. Already, in just chapter 2, Jesus knows that he is on his way to the cross, taken away from his disciples, indeed abandoned by them, to die to take away their sins. Jesus knew what lay ahead for him. He knew that the disciples would fast and mourn in those days. But they were just a few days, while Jesus lay in the tomb. You see, Jesus’ death wasn’t the end of the story. He rose to new life, resurrection life, he lives today, and continues to give us his joy.

So why don’t Jesus’ disciples fast? Because Jesus, the bridegroom is with them, they have a reason to feast and celebrate and rejoice! But Jesus then goes further, to show that he isn’t in the business of mending and making do and fixing up - rather he is in the business of making all things new.

And to show us how Jesus makes all things new, he uses two everyday examples. Look at verse 21: ‘No one sews a patch of unshrunk cloth on an old garment. If he does, the new piece will pull away from the old, making the tear worse.’

So imagine that you’ve got a favourite T-shirt. And you’ve worn it a lot because you like it. And eventually, it has a hole in it. What do you do? Well here’s what you wouldn’t do. You wouldn’t get some new fabric, which hasn’t been shrunk before, and make a patch. Why? Because whenever you wash it for the first time, and every time afterwards, the new patch will shrink, and make a bigger tear! Just patching it up with some new cloth isn’t going to work. The new will destroy the old.

Or think about the second example in verse 22: ‘And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. If he does, the wine will burst the skins, and both the wine and the wineskins will be ruined. No, he pours new wine into new wineskins.’

These days, you normally get wine in glass bottles. At least, that’s how the Communion wine comes. But in the time of the New Testament, wine came in wineskins - leather containers which held the wine. So if you had new wine, Jesus says you don’t put it in an old wineskin - the old wineskin had already been used, it had been stretched to the limit as the wine fermented in it, and it may have become brittle. To put new wine into an old wineskin would risk bursting the wineskin and losing the wine. The solution to the problem? New wine goes in new wineskins.

Do you see what the two stories are pointing us towards? The new patch will tear the old garment. The new wine will burst the old wineskin. In both case, the new material and the new wine are for new things. And the old is to be left behind, discarded.

So what is Jesus saying? He’s saying that the old religious system - the Jewish ceremonies and things like fasting - they’re like the old garment and the old wineskins. but they can’t contain or handle or cope with the newness that Jesus brings, the newness of God’s kingdom.

The Pharisees and even John’s disciples were fasting, as they waited for the Christ to come. But Jesus the Christ has come - and he doesn’t really fit into the old categories in the same way. Jesus isn’t in the business of patching up the old ways; he brings in something new - the new wine of the kingdom of God.

And that’s what Jesus wants to do in our lives as well. Jesus isn’t interested in helping you patch up your life as it is - just a wee bit of help every so often; just a patch that you put on for Sunday mornings; just a bit of minor fixing up a few wee bits of your life. It won’t work. He’s not interested in that!

Jesus wants to make you new. Not by tackling a new years resolution (if you’re still going with it by now). But by making you new. Clothed in a new garment. Made a new wineskin, for him to fill with his new wine - the joy of his kingdom. Imagine that - a fresh start, a new way of living, a new identity as a follower of Jesus, a child of God.

Jesus came into the world, he died on the cross, so that you can have this fresh start, and can experience the joy of knowing him. It’s why the disciples weren’t fasting, waiting for God’s kingdom to come - they were already living in it. And you can share in this joy today, as you trust in Jesus and are made new.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday morning 27th January 2019.

Sermon: Nehemiah 8: 1-18 The joy of the Lord is your strength

Marie Kondo is a professional decluttering advisor, who has written books on how to tidy up your home and to declutter any space in it. She recently launched a new TV series on Netflix, where she goes in to help people with the process of decluttering. I’m not entirely sure that I would buy into all that she advises - for instance, it seems that she says that you should only keep no more than 30 books. I’m not sure how I would manage with that bit! But when it comes to decluttering, here’s the question that she uses to help her clients decide whether to keep something or to get rid of it: Does it spark joy?

The reason I mention Marie Kondo is because that’s the very question that we’re asking tonight. Does it spark joy? You see, in our reading tonight, we come to what is probably the best known line from the whole book of Nehemiah. If you weren’t able to think of much else of what Nehemiah does or says, there’s a fair chance that you would know this line. It appears in modern Christian songs, it’s quoted in lots of Christian books, and it’s often seen in social media posts. The joy of the Lord is your strength.

But what does it mean? What did it mean when Nehemiah said it? And what might it mean for us, tonight in Richhill?

Last week at Cafe Church we were looking at happiness and how to be happy. And we saw how happiness depends on what happens, it can go up and down, whereas joy is that Christian virtue, that fruit of the Spirit, that continues to bear us up no matter what our circumstances. It’s a settled contentedness that comes from the Lord.

But to ask Marie Kondo’s question in a slightly different way - what is it that sparks this joy? How do we get this sort of joy in the first place?

The answer that Nehemiah 8 gives us may not sound like the most exciting answer. It might sound a wee bit boring, predictable, and unexciting. But it’s the answer that Nehemiah gives, and the whole Bible confirms: The joy of the Lord comes from hearing and understanding and obeying the word of God. That’s it. That’s what Nehemiah 8 will show us. But it’s far from routine. It is revolutionary - it was for the people of Nehemiah’s day, and it will be for us as well if we really hear and obey God’s word.

Our reading tonight describes a most remarkable week in the life of the city of Jerusalem. We’ve been watching as Nehemiah hears the report of the city when some of the people have returned from exile. The people in great trouble and disgrace, and the city walls broken down and the gates burned. So Nehemiah set out to build up the walls, and then to build up the people. His first task was completed, so then he set about building up the people.

And to do that, a great assembly is called on the first day of the seventh month. Verse 1 says: ‘all the people assembled as one man in the square before the Water Gate.’ Everyone is gathered together, they’re all there, for just one purpose. They want to hear the ‘Book of the Law of Moses, which the Lord had commanded for Israel.’ (1).

Their desire is to have the first five books of the Old Testament read aloud to them - the Book of the Law of Moses. They want to hear God’s word. You see, in these days, not everyone would have been able to read. And very few would have had a copy of the Scriptures - certainly not like the easy access we have these days with Bibles galore and Bible apps on our phones. they wanted to hear God’s word. And that’s what Ezra gives to them.

The assembly gathers, ‘men and women and all who were able to understand’, in order to hear Ezra read for hours and hours from God’s word. Did you notice how long it was? ‘From daybreak till noon’. The seventh month is when we have September. And daybreak in September comes between 6.15am and 6.30am. (Isn’t the internet wonderful for all sorts of information!). So for at least five hours, Ezra reads, ‘And all the people listened attentively to the Book of the Law.’

Verses 4 onwards tell us a bit more about the practical details of how it was all worked out. There’s a high wooden platform built for the occasion, so that Ezra can be seen and heard. The other priests in verse 4 are on either side of him.

Verses 5 and 6 tell us about the liturgical details, each of which show how the word is honoured and respected. So, earlier, you stood for the reading of the Gospel, and said the responses ‘Glory to you, Lord Jesus Christ’ and ‘Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.’ Well here, in verse 5, when Ezra opens the book, the people stand up. As Ezra praises God, the people lift their hands and respond with Amen! Amen! Then they bow down and worship.

The Levites also have their part to play. They seem to be in and among the crowd, instructing the people in the Law. They’re reading from the Book of the Law, ‘making it clear and giving the meaning so that the people could understand what was being read.’ And, in a sense, that’s what we’re doing right now, and what we seek to do in every sermon - to read and then explain and apply God’s word, so that it’s clear and the meaning is given, and so that everyone can understand it. That’s why it’s good to have your Bible open in front of you, and it’s why there’s a lot of work goes into sermon preparation and writing.

In verse 9 we see the conclusion of the day’s events. The reading and explaining has been finished. So what is it that Nehemiah and Ezra and the Levites say? ‘This day is sacred to the LORD your God. So not mourn or weep.’ This is a holy day, a sacred day, and so they say not to mourn or weep. Why do they say this? Well, because, as verse 9 continues: ‘For all the people had been weeping as they listened to the words of the Law.’

As they heard what God demanded of them, as they heard what the Law said, they were weeping, because they realised how far short of the standard they were. At high school I wasn’t terribly athletic (I know that’s hard to believe!) but I definitely didn’t like the high jump. The bar was set, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get over it. And the Law sets up a standard, but no one could keep it. And so the people weep and mourn. They’re aware of their failings.

But notice what Nehemiah also says as he says those famous words of his: ‘Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is sacred to our LORD. Do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength.’ (10).

There’s a contrast here - between the grieving and the joy. The people think they need to fast and grieve. But instead Nehemiah says that the Lord gives joy, that there’s a joy in hearing God’s word, that this day is special, that it should be kept with feasting, because they have heard God’s word. This joy is something only God can give, and it gives us strength for all that he calls us to do in response.

After the Levites have said the same, we see the effect in verse 12. ‘Then all the people went away to eat and drink, and to send portions of good and to celebrate with great joy, because they now understood the words that had been made known to them.’ They go to feast and to share so that others can feast, because they celebrate with great joy. And why do they have this great joy? Because they understood God’s word.

Is there a danger that we’re so familiar with the Bible that we think we know it all already? Have we lost this joy, this amazing thrill of hearing and understanding God’s word? You remember the disciples on the road to Emmaus, their hearts burning as Jesus explained the scriptures to them. Have we ever had that good type of heartburn as we’ve really grasped what God is saying... to us?

Now, that was all day one. (Don’t worry, the other days will be briefer!) And on day two, verse 13, it’s a smaller gathering back for more Bible study. It’s not the whole assembly then, but it is the ‘heads of all the families, along with the priests and the Levites, gathered around Ezra the scribe to give attention to the words of the Law.’

The leaders of the people are there to study the Bible. And as they read and study, they discover that God had commanded a special feast to be kept in that very month, on those very days. The feast of booths (or Tabernacles) was to remind the Israelites of how their ancestors had lived in tents during the wilderness years, on their way to the promised land. And so straight away, they hear and respond to God’s word - they obey it - and send the word out to everyone to come with branches to make booths to stay in for the week of the feast.

Everyone built their shelter - either on rooftop or courtyard or temple courts or in the city squares - and lived in it for the feast. It hadn’t been seen or experienced for a very long time - in fact, not since the days of Joshua son of Nun, when Israel first entered the promised land. ‘The Israelites had not celebrated it like this.’ And what happens when they do? ‘And their joy was very great.’ (17).

And so, for the whole seven days of the feast, Ezra reads from the Book of the Law of God. There is joy in hearing and understanding and obeying God’s word. Yet, as we’ve said, and know all too well, we can’t keep the Book of the Law. The standard is too high. It would be like having the pole vault height and having people try to high jump over it. None of us can do it.

But that’s why Jesus came into the world. He came to fulfil the demands of the Law. He perfectly obeyed every command on our behalf, and then took the punishment of the law-breaker. And why did he do it? Hebrews 12:2 - ‘for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of God.’ Jesus was focused on the joy set before him as he suffered on the cross. And in Jesus, we are offered the joy of the Lord to strengthen us. He gives us his joy so that it is just as if I’d never sinned, but had perfectly obeyed the word of the Lord.

Tonight we’re invited to share in the meal that celebrates his victory on the cross. In bread and wine, we marvel at his grace, that takes law-breakers and makes us law-keepers. Find in Jesus your sins forgiven and receive his perfect righteousness. Then rise from the table, determined to grow in the joy of the Lord, to find strength for the journey, as you hear and understand and obey God’s word.

Perhaps Marie Kondo’s question does make sense. Other possessions, even other books may or may not do it for us. But above all, as we take up our Bible, may we know for sure that it sparks joy in our minds and hearts and lives, because it is God speaking to us, calling us to follow and obey. The joy of the Lord is your strength. May this be so tonight, and always.

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 20th January 2019.

Sermon: Mark 2: 13-17 Follow Me

If you could ask God one question, what would it be? That’s the question that’s asked at the beginning of the Christianity Explored course. And so participants come up with their questions for God, which will hopefully be answered through the seven-week course. As we dive back into Mark’s gospel after a break of almost a year, we discover that lots of people have lots of questions they want to ask Jesus.

So as you have the pew Bible open on page 1004, in Mark 2 there are four separate stories, four episodes, and each of them contains a question being asked of or about Jesus. In verse 7, the teachers of the law ask why Jesus is speaking blasphemy, claiming to be God, as he forgives sins. In a couple of weeks we’ll see verse 18 where there’s a question about the disciples not fasting, and then in verse 24, a question about why the disciples are breaking the Sabbath. Lots of questions for Jesus, all coming out of how people are reacting to his public ministry, and there’s another question in today’s reading.

It’s there in verse 16. ‘Why does he eat with tax collectors and “sinners”?’ That’s the question that is on the lips of the teachers of the law who were Pharisees. They’re asking why Jesus is eating with tax collectors and “sinners” because that is exactly what Jesus is doing - and they can’t get their heads around it.

We’ll come back to the question itself shortly, but first we need to see the context, to see why the question was being asked. As verse 13 opens, and Mark tells the story of Jesus, you wonder what is going to happen next. When you know the stories of Jesus, you’re aware of the possibilities. ‘Once again Jesus went out beside the lake.’ And you think to yourself - is this when he walks on water? is this when he goes in a boat and calms the storm? But this isn’t either of those times. They’ll come later on in the gospel.

Verse 13 continues, ‘A large crowd came to him, and he began to teach them.’ So, you might be expecting to hear what it was that Jesus was teaching them that day. We’ll maybe hear a parable or two. But again, that’s not what Mark is going to tell us about that day. It’s in verse 14 that we see what Mark is focusing in on:

‘As he walked along, he saw Levi son of Alphaeus sitting at the tax collector’s booth. “Follow me,” Jesus told him, and Levi got up and followed him.’

Jesus has a large crowd with him. There are loads of people around him. But Jesus is focused on this guy, Levi, sitting at his place of work. He wasn’t making jeans, he was... a tax collector.

Nobody really likes tax collectors. Oh, and by the way, a little public service reminder - if you do your Self-Assessment Tax Return, then you need to have it in and any tax paid by the end of January. But if you think that people don’t really like tax collectors now, people in New Testament times really didn’t like tax collectors.

You see, to be a tax collector then meant that you were working for the enemy. The Roman Empire were in charge, they had invaded and captured the land, but they employed locals to collect the taxes. So to be a tax collector you were a traitor. And you were probably on the take - charging whatever you could get away with, making a profit on the side.

Levi was... a tax collector. He was busy at his work when suddenly Jesus walks up to him and says, ‘Follow me.’ Jesus had said the same to the fishing brothers, Simon and Andrew, James and John back in chapter 1. And they had done what Levi does here. ‘Levi got up and followed him.’

His tax collecting days are over. From this day on, he will follow Jesus, because Jesus has called him to follow him. Notice it wasn’t that Levi saw Jesus, and Levi decided he would go up to Jesus and follow him. No, it’s Jesus that takes the initiative; Jesus that issues the call; and Levi follows.

In verse 15, the scene has shifted. We’re no longer on the road. We’re in Levi’s house. Jesus is having dinner with Levi, but it’s not just the two of them. The guest list is a lot bigger. I imagine that it’s a bit like a big family dinner, you know, when the dining table is fully extended, and people are sitting on the normal chairs, the emergency spare chairs, the piano stool and anything else that means someone can sit at the dining table.

There’s Jesus and his disciples. And there’s Levi. And then there’s all the others who are invited to dinner. The ‘many tax collectors and “sinners” who were eating with him. A big dinner party. Perhaps you’ve thought about the question - if you could invite any three people, living or dead, to a dinner party, who would you invite? When people think of who they would have, it’s always famous people, their heroes, people like Winston Churchill or ... No one would want to have Levi and Jesus’ dining companions.

Do you see the way tax collectors and sinners go together? We see that three times in verses 15-16. Tax collectors were seen as outcasts, beyond the pale, but so too were sinners. These were people who everyone knew were bad, who didn’t bother to try to keep the religious rules. Tax collectors and sinners were regarded as bad as each other.

They weren’t up to the religious standards of the teachers of the law and the Pharisees. The Pharisees looked down their noses at them. And so, in verse 16, when the Pharisees see Jesus eating with the sinners and tax collectors, they ask that question: ‘Why does he eat with tax collectors and sinners?’

To eat with someone was to recognise them in friendship and partnership. So to eat with tax collectors and sinners was for Jesus to say that he was at ease with them, regarded them as friends. It was simply unthinkable to the religious Pharisees.

The question is asked of the disciples, but it’s Jesus who answers the question. He says: ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.’ (17)

Imagine that you call into the Health Centre tomorrow morning. Or, you try to get in, but there’s a huge crowd of people, all waiting to see the doctor. And, as you wait, you look around, and can’t seem to see anything wrong with the people in the queue. There isn’t anyone coughing or sneezing repeatedly. There are no obvious signs of anyone being ill. So you pluck up the courage, and start chatting to the person next to you. What are you here for? And the man says, Me, oh, I’m feeling really healthy today, in tip top condition. I’m just going to have a wee chat with the doctor about football. And the lady on the other side of you, she says, I’ve never felt better! I’m in perfect health. I’m wanting to talk about where I should go on holidays.

What would you want to say to them? You’re wasting the doctor’s time! They’re not here for you to come and socialise if you’re healthy! There are sick people they need to see. If you’re healthy, then you don’t need the doctor - not when there are sick people.

Isn’t that what Jesus is saying here? He makes the same contrast in two different ways. There’s the contrast between healthy people and sick people. And there’s the contrast between righteous people and sinners.

Just as it’s the sick people who need the doctor, so it’s the sinners who need the Saviour. This is the reason why Jesus is eating with tax collectors and sinners. They know they’re sick with sin, and they know they need a Saviour. Did you notice in verse 15, at the end of the verse, ‘for there were many who followed him.’ Levi was one, but there were many other tax collectors and sinners who followed Jesus. They knew they needed Jesus, and they were glad to follow him.

So if the tax collectors and sinners are the ‘sick’ who need a doctor, who are the healthy people, the righteous? It’s clear that Jesus is saying that the Pharisees think that they’re healthy, think that they’re righteous (in right standing with God), and therefore don’t need Jesus. They thought that they were ok by themselves and their efforts.

And maybe today, you find yourself with the Pharisees? You try hard to keep the rules. You try hard to never miss church. You think that you’re righteous. The truth is, though, that none of us are righteous by ourselves. None of us can earn our way. We all fall short of God’s glory, in so many different ways. We are all sin-sick, needing a Saviour.

The good news is that that’s why Jesus came. He didn’t come to call the righteous; he came to call sinners. He came to call Levi, and the other tax collectors and sinners. And he came to call you, and me.

Will you hear his voice? Will you follow him?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday morning 13th January 2019.

Sermon: Nehemiah 7: 1-73 Registering Returnees

We’ve had almost two years of President Trump, and already the talk is of who the candidates will be for the next Presidential election in November 2020. You may remember that one of Trump’s big campaign promises was that he would ‘Build a wall’ on the Mexican border. Two years on, he doesn’t really seem to be making much progress on his promise.

In contrast, over the autumn term we were watching as Governor Nehemiah returned to the city of Jerusalem, ready to build a wall. The city wall of Jerusalem had been broken down and its gates burned with fire. That was the case since Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylons had invaded, taking the people of Jerusalem away in exile. Nehemiah had heard about it all from his place in Susa, the capital of the Persian Empire - the empire that had conquered Babylon.

And so, over the first six chapters of his book, we’ve seen how he determined to build up the wall, to rebuild the city of Jerusalem, to again make it the place of God’s glory. We’ve listened in to his prayers of confession and intercession; we’ve watched him make the long journey home’ we’ve witnessed him hard at work with many of the residents of the city; and we’ve seen him respond to the barrage of threats that came against him.

So, when we read in Nehemiah 6:15 that the wall was completed in fifty-two days, we might think to ourselves: ‘Job done.’ Quicker, and better than the US President. You could say that Nehemiah trumped Trump. And you might think to yourself, so, is the rest of the book just about how Nehemiah took a great big rest, sat with his feet up and enjoyed a cup of tea as he looked out at the city wall he had built?

Well, we’ve already read chapter 7 tonight, and as you’ve probably noticed, sitting down and taking a rest was the last thing on Nehemiah’s mind. Even the opening words of 7:1 show us that there’s more to come: ‘After the wall had been rebuilt...’ Finishing the wall was not the finish of Nehemiah’s work. But then, if you remember, it wasn’t the only reason he was downcast in the first place.

Flick back to 1:3 and you see what it was that caused Nehemiah to weep: ‘Those who survived the exile and are back in the province are in great trouble and disgrace. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been burned with fire.’

It wasn’t just the wall that was broken down, it was the people who were broken down. And it was always Nehemiah’s hope and wish and prayer that he would build up the people as well as building up the city. So while the city came first, because they needed a place of safety and shelter, the city wasn’t all that he had come to put right.

Maybe you’ve been putting together a list of jobs to be done in the new year. Putting the Christmas tree away. Tidying out a particular cupboard or room. Doing a spot of decorating. And it’s with great satisfaction that you tick it off. But with one job done, there’s always another waiting for you. So here, Nehemiah has the wall built, but from tonight on, we see that he tackles his second to-do item on the list - build up the people of the city.

‘After the wall had been rebuilt and I had set the doors in place, the gatekeepers and the singers and the Levites were appointed.’ (1) With the gates in place, you need some gatekeepers - the people who will guard and defend the gates. To oversee them, Nehemiah appoints Hanani over the city, and Hananiah the commander of the citadel. But Hanani’s appointment isn’t nepotism, or family favouritism - it’s because ‘he was a man of integrity and feared God more than most men do.’ These were the qualities Nehemiah was looking for - integrity and the fear of the Lord.

The overseers are given instructions for the gates not to be opened until the sun is hot. (Some commentators reckon this might mean that the gates are to be closed during the siesta in the noonday sun). More guards were to be appointed, some at their posts and some near their own houses. There was no point building walls if the gates were going to be left open and unguarded. So safety and security is under control.

But go back for a moment to the other people Nehemiah appointed. Alongside the gatekeepers were the singers and the Levites. Was it an audition like The Voice which is on TV on Saturday nights? Were they looking for the next pop star? Well, no, these singers were appointed to sing God’s praise in the temple. King David had originally put singers in the temple, and so here Nehemiah is re-establishing true worship. That’s also the case with the Levites - men of the tribe of Levi who weren’t priests, but who served in the temple. Nehemiah is building up the people through providing security and spirituality.

But do you see how the two parts of Nehemiah’s work - building up the city walls and the people go together? Look at verse 4: ‘Now the city was large and spacious, but there were few people in it, and the houses had not yet been rebuilt.’ A big city, lots of space, but it could hardly be a city if it has no people. The people need to be built up. And that’s what Nehemiah turns to do:

‘So my God put it into my heart to assemble the nobles, the officials and the common people for registration by families. I found the genealogical record of those who had been the first to return. This is what I found written there:’ (5)

God puts it on Nehemiah’s heart to gather the people, to assemble them, so that they can be registered. Nehemiah is seeing who he has to work with - the people that God has given to him. But if you look closely at verse 5, the list of unpronounceables here is an older list - of those who had been the first to return. And this is almost exactly word for word and number for number the same list as you find in Ezra chapter 2. There are some slight differences in spelling, and some different numbers. But it’s essentially the same list. And what does it tell us?

It tells us that God was faithful. He had promised that a remnant would return from exile, and this big long list is a record of the people who returned again to their promised land - all 42,360 of them, besides 7337 servants and 245 singers.

It tells us that God was not finished with the Jewish people. He had promised that the Messiah would come from the tribe of Judah, and the tribe is still going, with Zerubbabel (7) and the men of Bethlehem (26) mentioned. The family line of David through to Jesus was still on course.

It tells us that people matter to God. Every person, whoever they were descended from (8-25), wherever they came from (26-38), or whatever their role in the temple sacrifices and worship (priests, Levites, singers, gatekeepers, temple servants, Solomon’s servants v39-60), every person mattered and was counted.

It tells us that Gentiles were being included among the people of God. In verse 61 we see the descendants of Delaiah, Tobiah and Nekoda, who couldn’t prove their descent from Israel, but who were part of the people.

And it tells us that the purity of the priesthood was vitally important. You see that in verse 63, where the descendants of Hobaiah, Hakkoz and Barzillai can’t find their family records, and so are excluded from the priesthood as being unclean. They couldn’t have just anybody serving as a priest in the temple. Its purity was important.

So almost 50,000 people have returned to Jerusalem and Judah, according to this list of Ezra, and copied by Nehemiah. God’s promises are on track. And yet the city was broken down, and these returned people weren’t much better - in great trouble and disgrace. They need to built up just as much as the city needed to be built up.

But notice that they were generous, they were willing to contribute to the work of the Lord. The governor, and the heads of the families, and the rest of the people give freely and willingly to the Lord’s work - thousands of drachmas of gold, thousands of minas of silver, bowls, and garments for the priests.

But as the closing verses tell us, the people went to settle in their own towns. The people are spread out across Judah, and the city is spacious and fairly empty. There’s more work to be done. But Nehemiah has made a start. He didn’t rest on his laurels. He needs to build up the people of Judah, so that the promised Son of David, the Lion of Judah, could come and rescue his people.

Through Nehemiah’s work, God is at work. And through the things that we do, our feeble efforts, our stumbling attempts, God is at work to bring in his people, to populate his eternal city, to ensure that the people he has elected and chosen and called will indeed be brought in. When the roll is called up yonder, will you be there?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 6th January 2019.

Sermon: Matthew 2: 1-12 The Wise Men's Gospel Gifts

This morning we’re focusing on the arrival of the three wise men. But have you ever stopped to consider what would have happened if it had been three wise women who had come to see the baby Jesus?

They would have asked for directions and not got lost.

They would have arrived on time, not up to two years afterwards.

They would have made a casserole, and cleaned the stable.

They would have brought practical gifts, not the strange items the men brought.

There’s a lot of mystery surrounding these visitors from the east. Who were they? How many of them were there? But perhaps the most mysterious thing about them is the gifts they bring to the baby. I mean, if you hear of a friend or family member who has given birth, you’re not going to rush out to the shops to buy the baby some gold, frankincense and myrrh, are you?

There are a thousand and one things that would be more practical and useful for a baby - baby clothes, nappies, towels, bibs, toys, the list could go on and on. So why do these wise men bring these gifts? In verse 11, their treasures and opened, and they present him with gold, incense and myrrh - or, as was heard at a Nativity one time, gold, Frankenstein and a mirror.

They are strange gifts, and yet, they turned out to be useful, given that the next day the family of Jesus would be fleeing for their lives to Egypt - these precious gifts could be sold to pay for their food and lodging. But while they are still strange gifts, yet they tell the story of this baby. The gifts are a telling of the gospel. So let’s consider each of them in turn, to see what they tell us about this special baby.

The first one is obvious enough. Gold, for a king. It’s the question on the lips of the wise men when they first appear in verse 2: ‘Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews?’

They had come searching for the newborn King, which is why they landed at the king’s palace in Jerusalem. As we saw last week, though, Herod wasn’t too happy to hear their question. It means there is a rival ruler around. And notice that they don’t ask ‘where is the one who has been born and one day will be king of the Jews?’ When Prince William was born, he was automatically second in line to the throne, one day, by God’s will, he will be king. But he wasn’t already king when he was born.

But here the wise men ask where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? The baby is already King. The gold is a recognition of the baby’s place as king of kings and lord of lords. The wise men come to worship, but did you notice that the people in Jerusalem weren’t bothered about the good news.

They were disturbed about it, but they weren’t overjoyed about it. The chief priests and teachers of the law can answer the Bible quiz question: ‘where will the Messiah be born?’ But they don’t bother to go with the wise men to see their long-promised king. Will we be found with the wise wanderers who worship? Or the precocious priests who prevaricate by staying away?

So first out of the treasure chest is gold, fit for a king. The second gift might be less obvious, but it also makes sense. We’ll sing in a few moments of ‘we three kings’ but they were wise men, as verse 1 says, ‘Magi from the east’. That word, magi, suggests a link to magicians, and magic arts. In the original form, they would have been the king’s wise men, advisors and astrologers who observed the skies. Tradition (not found in the Bible) names these three wise men as Casper, Melchior and Balthasar. Who knows if they’re right. But we know for certain the name of another of the magi from an older generation - Daniel.

Daniel (of whom we have the biblical book) was one of the wise men of Babylon (and later of the Medes and Persians). In Daniel 9 we read of how Daniel is reading the Scriptures, the prophecy of Jeremiah, and realises that the time of exile of 70 years is coming to an end, and that prompts him to pray.

It seems that the wise men of the Persian kingdom held on to Daniel’s scriptures. Our Old Testament reading (Isaiah 60) pointed forward to the coming of a new king, one in whom the glory of the Lord is present, to whom nations and kings will come. And in that very passage we even find a suggested gift list for those who come to worship: ‘And all from Sheba will come, bearing gold and incense and proclaiming the praise of the LORD.’ (Is 60:6).

Gold and (frank)incense, declaring the praise of the LORD (that is, of God). Frankincense is the sign of divinity - the sign that this is no ordinary baby, that this is God who has come to earth. You see, in the Old Testament, frankincense was used in the temple offerings as an odour pleasing to the LORD (e.g. Leviticus 2:1).

but it was even more exclusive than that. In Exodus 30, the LORD is instructing Moses on how to set up the tabernacle and begin the sacrifices and priestly ministry of Levi and his sons. Frankincense is used to make the incense of the tabernacle (and later temple). This perfume couldn’t be bought on the high street or used for anybody else. It was only to be used by the priests, in the place of worship, for God alone.

The baby is a king, but he is also God with us - as shown by the frankincense. This is your God. Will you worship him?

But what about the third gift? The myrrh is perhaps the strangest of the three. Sometimes I have to go into a Yankee Candle shop. The blend of smells and fragrances can be overpowering. But if you take a deep breath, and hold it as long as you can, then you can just about survive until you get out of it! But in those kinds of shops you get all sorts of smells. Christmas candles with cinnamon, or cranberry and orange; regular candles that smell of fluffy towels, or lavender, or baby powder. Any number to choose from. But you definitely wouldn’t have chosen to buy a myrrh candle. Myrrh was the smell of death.

Imagine bringing a little baby something that smells of death? It’s almost unthinkable - as you celebrate a new life to have a reminder of death in your nostrils. You see, myrrh was used in the ceremonies of death in Jesus’ day. It was part of the spices used as the body was wrapped in the shroud, ready to be laid in the tomb. And in John 19 we’re told that Nicodemus brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about 75 pounds weight of the stuff for the burial of Jesus.

So even as Jesus is born, as the baby is growing, and these strange visitors appear, this gift is pointing to the reason he was born. The King who is God with us, was born to die. Already his path to the cross is marked out. His death is already present as he begins his life.

The King, God with us, dies - dies for us. This is the gospel, the good news of Jesus. He who had no sin; he who deserved to be worshipped and praised; he stepped down into this world to die for our sin.

We don’t know how much of this the wise men really understood, but they went on a costly journey, to bring costly gifts, to bow down and worship the baby king. They were the first Gentiles to come and worship, but they are by no means the last, as men and women from every tribe and tongue hear the good news and respond in the same way - to bow the knee and worship King Jesus.

The wise men’s gifts tell us the gospel story. Jesus is the king - will you surrender to him? Jesus is God - will you worship him? Jesus is the one who died and rose again for your sins - will you receive his forgiveness?

This morning, on the first Sunday of a new year, you are invited to the table. Come in obedience to your king who calls you! Come and worship your God! Come in thankfulness that Jesus died to take away your sins - all of them - to give you a new start.

As the old car bumper sticker says: ‘Wise men worshipped Jesus. They still do.’ Will you be wise today?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on the Feast of the Epiphany, Sunday 6th January 2019.

On Blogging

We're coming up on fourteen years since my first foray into the world of blogging on this site. Originally called The Thoughts of a Random Ordinand, it became the Reverend Garibaldi McFlurry following my ordination. For a while I've been thinking about this blog and the purpose it serves. And today, having seen the start of Tim Challies' new series on blogs and blogging, it has prompted me to get back into proper blogging.

While it's good to be able to share my sermons here - and that's what the majority of the blog traffic is coming for - it would be good to get back into other forms of writing which aren't just my sermons and Bible talks. So perhaps there'll be some book reviews, creative writing, and other thoughts on ministry, life and culture. We'll see how we get on, but consider this a new year's resolution of some kind or another. Watch this space!

2018 Books

It's the end of another year, and another year of reading. I've been keeping track of the books that I've read each year since 2007 - purely for my own interest. I'm glad to report that my 50 books this year is well up on last year's 31, but still not close to 2007's 78 books! This is partly due to the Arrow Leadership Course and its extensive reading list, and partly because I've been trying to use my phone less and read a bit more. Plus, when I'm on holiday, I read quite a bit, managing ten books in one week abroad!

Here are the books I read this year:

1. To Live is Christ, to Die is Gain - Matt Chandler & Jared C Wilson
2. Insight into Stress - Beverley Shepherd
3. The Emotionally Healthy Leader - Peter Scazzero
4. Do More Better - Tim Challies
5. Camino Island - John Grisham
6. The Work of Christ - RC Sproul
7. The American Future - Simon Schama
8. Anthems for a Dying Lamb - Philip S Ross
9. Death by Meeting - Patrick Lencioni
10. This Invitational Life - Steve Carter

11. A Resilient Life - Gordon MacDonald
12. The Five Dysfunctions of a Team - Patrick Lencioni
13. The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas - John Boyne
14. Supernatural Power for Everyday People - Jared C Wilson
15. Reset - David Murray
16. Fierce Convictions - Karen S Prior
17. What is the Mission of the Church? - Kevin DeYoung & Greg Gilbert
18. The Lord of the Ring - Phil Anderson
19. The Future of Jesus - Peter Jensen
20. Perfect Sinners - Matt Fuller

21. Bring Me Back - BA Paris
22. Death of a Village - MC Beaton
23. The Rooster Bar - John Grisham
24. Micah - Dale Ralph Davis
25. Room - Emma Donoghue
26. The Gospel comes with a House Key - Rosaria Butterfield
27. The Secret Scripture - Sebastian Barry
28. Teaching Amos - Bob Fyall
29. The Girl on the Train - Paula Hawkins
30. Paul meets Muhammad: A Christian-Muslim Debate on the resurrection - Michael R Licona

31. The Hole in our Holiness - Kevin DeYoung
32. The Tattooist of Auschwitz - Heather Morris
33. Little Fires Everywhere - Celeste Ng
34. God and the Transgender Debate - Andrew T Walker
35. Everything I Never Told You - Celeste Ng
36. Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine - Gail Honeyman
37. A Study in Scarlet / The Sign of the Four / The Hound of the Baskervilles / The Valley of Fear - Arthur Conan Doyle
38. If You Could Ask God One Question - Paul Williams & Barry Cooper
39. Growing Through Encouragement - Roger Carswell
40. The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood

41. Ten Reasons why the Rapture must be Left Behind - Stephen D Morrison
42. Milkman - Anna Burns
43. Hit the Ground Kneeling - Stephen Cottrell
44. A Long, Long Way - Sebastian Barry
45. The Ulster Plantation in the Counties of Armagh and Cavan 1608-1641 - RJ Hunter
46. God’s Word, Our Story - DA Carson & Kathleen B Nielsen (eds)
47. Luck and the Irish - RF Foster
48. Philip Pullman’s Jesus - Gerald O’Collins
49. Murphy’s Law - Colin Bateman
50. Good Tidings of Great Joy - Charles Spurgeon

My top five would have to be:
1. The Secret Scripture - Sebastian Barry
2. Milkman - Anna Burns
3. Micah - Dale Ralph Davis
4. Little Fires Everywhere - Celeste Ng
5. God's Word, Our Story - DA Carson & Kathleen B Nielsen (eds)

Here are the links to previous years' book blogs: 2017 (31); 2016 (23); 2015 (21); 2014 (26); 2013 (45); 2012 (49); 2011 (37); 2010 (52); 2009 (41); 2008 (23); 2007 (78).

Sermon: Colossians 1: 15-20 Who is he, in yonder stall?

What is your favourite Christmas song? It seems like the shops have been playing Christmas songs for about the last three months, so when you’re out and about you hear all the secular Christmas songs - all I want for Christmas is you; or last Christmas I gave you my heart; or the Fairytale of New York. But which is your favourite Christmas song? We’ve sung lots of Christmas songs over the past few weeks at our carol services - which one do you like the best?

Silent night? Hark the herald angels sing? Away in a manger? Hopefully we’ve sung your favourite this year. If not, you can let me know and we’ll try to include it next year. When you’ve picked your favourite, then the next question is this - why do you like it? Is it the tune, that makes you feel Christmassy? Is it the words, that remind you of the reason for Christmas? Perhaps there are special memories connected to that particular song.

Well tonight, we’re going to look at another Christmas song. Luke, in his gospel, records four special Christmas songs from the original Christmas playlist - the song of Mary, the song of Zechariah, the song of the angels, and the song of Simeon. But in other parts of the New Testament we find other songs, old Christian hymns that express the faith. So, in Philippians 2, we have the song of Christ’s glory, which we sometimes use as our creed. Our song tonight comes from Colossians 1: 15-20.

These verses have been identified as an early Christian hymn - either composed by Paul himself, or else used by Paul here in his letter to the church at Colossae. We may not know who wrote it, and we may not know the tune they sang it to, but we have the words, and we’ll look at them together.

The focus is on ‘the Son he loves’ - as we see in the lead-up to the song. Back in verse 13 we read: ‘For he (God) has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.’ So the focus is on the eternal Son of God, the Lord Jesus. These verses are all about who Jesus is, and what he has done.

So let’s look from verse 15: ‘He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation.’

I’m not normally very good at seeing family likenesses - especially when it comes to babies. There can be lots of chat about who they look like, whose eyes or nose or ears they’ve got. But normally I can’t see the likeness at all - it has to be very obvious for me to notice! But whenever someone notices that you look like a family member, they might say, ‘you’re the spit of your dad.’ Or maybe more politely, you’re the picture of your dad. [People normally think I look very like my mum - so maybe that’s why I’m growing my beard again!]

And this ancient hymn is saying that the eternal Son, the Lord Jesus is the picture of his heavenly Father. In Genesis, we read of how Adam and Eve were made in the image and likeness of God - but you don’t have to read much further to see how those image-bearers messed up, and marred God’s image in them. We all still bear God’s image, but it’s twisted and distorted in us.

But Jesus is the image of the invisible God. As John says in his gospel, ‘No one has ever seen God, but God the Only Begotten, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known.’ When you look at Jesus, you see what God is like. Jesus shows us the invisible God.

That verse continues ‘the firstborn over all creation.’ And it’s here that some people get confused, reckoning that it says that Jesus was the firstborn of creation, that God made Jesus first, and then used Jesus to make everything else. [So, for example, the Jehovah’s Witnesses argue this]. But that’s not what this means.

At the time, the firstborn was a position of honour in the family. The firstborn would inherit a double portion of the inheritance. And so the picture is of Jesus inheriting all things. Notice that it doesn’t say he’s the firstborn of creation, or the firstborn in creation. He is the firstborn over all creation. He is over the creation, not a part of it.

And that can be seen in how the hymn continues, in verse 16: ‘For by him all things were created; things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.’

Again, did you notice how this hymn is closely echoing John 1? John says, ‘Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.’ (Jn 1:3). So here, the assertion is made, not once but twice, ‘by him all things were made.’ It’s there at the start and end of verse 16. All things were made by him. There are no exception clauses, no exemptions, no opt-outs. All things - in all categories - whatever their location (heaven or earth); whatever their visibility (visible or invisible); whatever their rank (thrones, powers, rulers, authorities). No matter how high the earthly or heavenly authority structures, whatever was made was made by Jesus.

And, as verse 16 ends, they weren’t only made by Jesus, they were also made for Jesus. Jesus made everything - including you; and everything was made for Jesus - to give him glory and praise. All creation exists for Jesus. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. If it weren’t for Jesus, his word of power (Heb 1), then our universe would be finished. Each atom was made by him and for him, and is controlled by him.

Yet so many refuse to acknowledge this pre-eminent position of Jesus. They won’t admit that he is their creator - looking instead for alternative theories of existence. People have turned away, and the creation suffers the effects of their rebellion. It’s why there has to be a second part to this ancient hymn. Jesus is the firstborn over all creation, but he is now also firstborn twice over. (That sounds a bit strange, doesn’t it - how can you be firstborn twice over?) We see that as the hymn gives us its second verse, from verse 18:

‘And he is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything he might have the supremacy.’

Jesus is head over creation, but he is also head over the new creation - the body which is the church. Have you ever thought of the church in that way? When we think of church, we maybe think of old buildings, and songs, and flower rotas, and cups of tea. But the church is the society of the new creation, the first glimpse of what the world will become. And Jesus is at its head, because he is the beginning of the new world, and he is the firstborn from among the dead.

Jesus, in his resurrection, has inaugurated a new world. He was the first to be raised to new life, resurrection life, but he won’t be the last. He is the firstborn, the one who starts it all off. And because he starts it, he has supremacy in this, as in everything else.

And why is Jesus in this elevated position? Why does he have the supremacy? Because of what he has done: ‘For God was pleased to have all his fulness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.’

Jesus is the eternal Son, the image of the invisible God. And as the eternal Son, Jesus had something which Adam didn’t have - the fulness of God dwelling in him. Jesus is the God-Man, fully God and fully Man. And this means that Jesus is the perfect mediator, the only qualified go-between to bring about reconciliation.

You hear about reconciliation whenever a relationship has broken down. And we’ve seen how everything was made by Jesus and for Jesus, but people have turned their backs on God. There is reconciliation through Jesus. We can be reconciled to God, brought back to him, brought into relationship again with him. But notice that the reconciliation Jesus brings about is much bigger than just you and me being reconciled - it encompasses all things.

And it’s all things, echoing the all things created by Jesus in verse 16, only in reverse order. In verse 16 it was ‘things in heaven and on earth’ - here the reconciliation is ‘all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven.’

It’s a bit like an old piano. You can still play a tune on it, but occasionally there’s a duff note, and things are out of harmony. When the piano tuner comes, and works their magic, suddenly, the piano sounds like new. Everything is in perfect harmony again. And that’s how our world is, how our universe is. Slightly off-key, not quite harmonious. It still plays a tune, but it doesn’t sound quite right. But with Jesus’ work of reconciliation, the universe will sing with perfect harmony, and creation’s song, praising its maker will again sound.

And how does Jesus bring reconciliation? ‘By making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.’ Jesus takes away the hostility that was due to us; the threat of eternal death; and sheds his blood to bring us peace.

They may not have sung this song at the first Christmas, but it’s a song about the Christ of Christmas. Who is he, in yonder stall? He’s the firstborn over all creation, who made everything, and for whom everything was made. And he’s the firstborn from among the dead, the head of the new creation, of which we can be a member, as we trust in him for our peace, our reconciliation back to God. As our next song puts it so well:

Who is he, in yonder stall,
at whose feet the shepherds fall?
‘Tis the Lord! O wondrous story!
‘Tis the Lord! The King of glory!
At his feet we humbly fall;
crown him, crown him, Lord of all.

Will you bow before him? Worship him? Crown him Lord of all?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 30th December 2018.

Sermon: Matthew 2: 13-23 The Dark Side of Christmas

Did you get many Christmas cards this year? It’s always exciting to open the post in December - besides the bills and business letters, you hopefully get a Christmas card or two each day. You open up the inside to see who it’s from, but it’s the outside that is visible on your mantelpiece or stuck on the door or wherever you display them.

There are lots of types of Christmas card image. Some Santas and snowy scenes. Robins and reindeer. Choirs and carollers. And then there are the Bible images - stars and stables and shepherds; wise men and mangers and angels. But the part of the passage we’re looking at today wouldn’t be found on many (or indeed, any) Christmas cards.

It’s part of the story of that first Christmas, but it’s not the bit we like to think about. Give us angels and shepherds and wise men and Mary and Joseph and the baby Jesus in the manger, but what about the rest of Matthew 2 - the dark side of Christmas.

Perhaps your Christmas hasn’t been an easy one. Perhaps it was less than perfect. Perhaps instead of joy, and excitement, and perfection, it was hard, and painful, and disappointing. Maybe you struggled your way through Christmas and you’re glad to be out the other side, just waiting for the clocks to roll on to tomorrow night so that 2018 can finally be over, and a new year will begin, a new year that will hopefully be better, because, you say to yourself, it could hardly be worse than what you’ve been through already.

This is the world that Jesus came into. Not a perfect world of tinsel and fairy lights, but of danger, threat, pain and confusion. Our world is messy, but that’s why Jesus came. He chose to step down from the delights of heaven to be born into our messy world. And he did it in order to be Immanuel, God with us, but more than that, God for us.

So let’s see what happened when Jesus was born into the world. Let’s focus on the dark side of Christmas. And we pick up the story in verse 13, where the keynote is the threat of Herod.

Next week we’ll look at the wise men’s arrival, but by verse 13, they have gone back home by a different way - so that they don’t go back by Jerusalem and Herod’s palace. When they had arrived, following the star, they had gone to the royal palace to see the one born king of the Jews. but King Herod was ‘disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him.’ You see, for King Herod, it was a bit like the line you hear in old westerns - This town ain’t big enough for the two of us. To King Herod, this new king was a rival king, a threat to his power and position, and so he determined to destroy the baby at all costs.

Before he could do so, an angel of the Lord was on the ball. Just as he had appeared to Joseph in chapter 1 to reassure him of Mary’s pregnancy, so here he appears to Joseph in a another dream: ‘Get up, he said, take the child and his mother and escape to Egypt. Stay there until I tell you, for Herod is going to search for the child to kill him.’

Herod had told the wise men that he wanted to worship Jesus, but his true intention was to kill him. Herod wants to get rid of his rival - and in so doing, is helping the devil in trying to prevent Jesus from completing the work he came to do - to save you and me. You see, if Jesus dies at Herod’s hands, then he couldn’t die on the cross to take away our sins. Do you see the danger here?

But God sends his angel, one step ahead, to ensure the survival of the Lord Jesus at this stage in the story. And as Joseph obeys the angel’s word, getting up, taking the child and his mother during the night, and leaving for Egypt, he is ensuring Jesus will escape the threat, and continue on his lifelong pathway to the cross.

Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the Sunday School class asked to draw a picture of a Bible story. And one wee boy draws an aeroplane with three people inside. And his teacher asks, Jonny, what have you drawn? So he names the people, Joseph, Mary and Jesus, and he says, this is the flight to Egypt.

But as they fly (on land rather than in a plane), as they escape, do you see what this means? It means that Jesus has been through and experienced what we see all too often on the news. For a part of his life, Jesus was a refugee. He and his family were asylum seekers, fleeing for their lives.

Would that knowledge change the way you look at the refugees you see on TV? To know that Jesus had to leave his homeland under threat of violence. To know that Joseph had no other choice but to get out of there straight away. The Lord of heaven and earth, giving up all to be born, and then to be forced to live as a refugee.

At the same time, Jesus is also fulfilling an Old Testament prophecy. Now, if you read some commentaries, they’ll talk for pages and pages about how this isn’t really a prophecy, and Matthew is clutching at straws and reading things into a verse from Hosea 11:1. But Matthew is writing Scripture too, guided by the Holy Spirit. And so he uses that verse ‘Out of Egypt I called my son’ to show that, just as God had called the nation of Israel out of their slavery in Egypt to be his people, so now Jesus follows the same pattern of going down to Egypt and being called out of it.

So the Dark Side of Christmas shows us that Jesus lived under threat, and was a refugee. But the next verses show just how set on violence King Herod was.

‘When Herod realised that he had been outwitted by the Magi, he was furious, and gave orders to kill all the boys in Bethlehem and its vicinity who were two years old and under, in accordance with the time he had learned from the Magi.’ (16)

Herod had been sitting around in his palace, waiting for the wise men to return. But he waits long enough, he realises that they’ve bypassed the palace, and he’s out for blood. Rather than targeting just one baby, he decides to kill all the baby boys, two years and under.

There’s a choir piece I used to sing growing up most years at the carol service in Dromore (The Coventry Carol):

Herod the king in his raging
charged he hath this day.
His men of might in his own sight
all young children to slay.

Such was Herod’s (and Satan’s) determination to destroy the Christ, he would stop at nothing to get rid of him. Some have argued that, if Bethlehem’s population was small, then the number of baby boys under two would also have been small, maybe just four or five were killed. But any would be too many.

Maybe you’ve noticed another link to the people of Israel in Egypt. Do you remember at the start of Exodus, Pharaoh does something the same - slaying the baby boys of Israel - and at that time one baby boy survived, one called Moses, who would lead his people out of Egypt. So here, one baby boy survives, the king of God’s people who would lead them out of slavery for ever.

But Matthew picks up on another connection to the Old Testament. He turns to the prophet Jeremiah (31:15), and these words being fulfilled:

‘A voice is heard in Ramah, weeping and great mourning, Rachel weeping for her children and refusing to be comforted, because they are no more.’

Rachel is the wife of Jacob, and so the mother of the children of Israel. Here, she is pictured weeping for her children - the Holy Innocents (as their feast day is called). But in Jeremiah, Rachel weeps for her children who have been taken into exile, far away from the land of Israel. And the rest of Jeremiah 31 is full of hope, full of promise, that exile will end, that return will happen, that restoration will be brought about in the new covenant.

So for Matthew to include that verse here, with its wider context, sounds a note of hope in the midst of mourning. Rachel weeps, but Jeremiah looks forward to the day when the exiles will return. And Matthew is signposting that Jesus is the one who will overcome Satan, sin and death, that he will be the consolation of his people. That, in the words of Zechariah: ‘In the tender compassion of our God the dawn from on high shall break upon us. To shine on those who dwell in darkness and the shadow of death, and to guide our feet into the way of peace.’

Jesus came into our world of pain; he came to bring comfort to those who mourn; he came to give himself on the cross to die for us, and to rise from the dead to give us the hope of eternal life with him - and, as the Prayer Book Funeral service puts it, ‘a joyful reunion in the heavenly places’.

If everything was all right in the world, Jesus wouldn’t have needed to have come. If all was well, he could have stayed in paradise. But that’s not the world we live in. Every day we hear of others going through danger, threat, pain, suffering, sadness and mourning. And some days, we experience those things ourselves. And this is the world Jesus chose to come to. He came to our messy world, and he wasn’t immune from the mess. He didn’t hover half a foot off the ground. No, he got stuck in, to sort it out, to be our Saviour, Redeemer and Friend.

If you think that Jesus wouldn’t understand what you’re going through - he has been there. He knows. He cares. And he is with you through the mess, to rescue and redeem. That’s why he came. he came for you. Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday morning 30th December 2018.

Sermon: Isaiah 11: 1-10 The Branch of Jesse

The closing months of this year have marked a couple of major centenaries. November was, of course, the centenary of the ending of World War One. December has its own special centenary. It’s one hundred years since the very first Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols in Kings College, Cambridge. And over the past hundred years, that service has been adopted and adapted all around the world - and we’ll use it this evening at our Carols by Candlelight service.

The idea is simple. In nine Bible readings, we are taken through the story of God’s rescue plan - from Genesis 3, through some of the prophecies, to the events of the first Christmas, ending with the reading of the Christmas Gospel from John chapter 1: ‘The Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory...’

In the run-up to Christmas, we’ve been looking at some of the nine lessons. And, while we won’t use this one tonight (we’re using the alternative reading from Micah 5), it’s part of the traditional Nine Lessons set. It’s a prophecy all about the baby in the manger, who is the king of the universe. And in vivid images, we get a glimpse of who Jesus is, and what his kingdom will be like.

So let’s dive in to verses 1-3, where we find the King’s qualifications. The first qualification of being king is coming from the right family line. So, while I wouldn’t mind being king of the United Kingdom, I’m not qualified, because I don’t come from the Windsor family line. The people who are qualified are Prince Charles, Prince William, Prince George.

And here in the reading, the qualifying family line is that of King David. A couple of weeks ago we heard the promise to David that one of his sons would reign forever. So to be the Messiah, you need to come from David’s line. But do you see how it’s described in verse 1?

‘A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.’

If you’ve been out for a walk in Gosford or Clare Glen or Loughgall Country Park, you might have seen something like this. A tree has been cut down. There’s just a stump. It looks done for. Dead wood. But if you look closely, over time, there’s one little shoot coming up. It’s nowhere near as big as the stump, but it’s coming up, there’s life, there’s hope, there’s a new start.

And that’s the picture here, that Isaiah gives. When Isaiah was prophesying, the kingdom of Judah (David’s sons) still reigned, but they were effectively dead wood. A long way short of what David had been; a long way short of what God had promised. And shortly after Isaiah, the kingdom would go into exile. The tree would be felled. Only the stump remaining.

It would look tiny, ineffectual compared to the other nations round about. But if you look back to the end of chapter 10, God says through Isaiah that the lofty trees (the nations) will be felled - and instead this shoot will come from the stump of Jesse - Jesse the father of David, the root of the whole family line. And more, the shoot will grow, will become ‘a Branch’ that ‘will bear fruit.’

The King comes from the right family line. That’s important (which is why Matthew starts his gospel with the family tree of Jesus). But it’s not the only qualification. The other is to be Spirit-empowered:

‘The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him - the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of power, the Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the LORD - and he will delight in the fear of the LORD.’ (2-3)

The ideal king will be empowered by the Holy Spirit. And in those verses, we see what the Spirit is like, and what the Spirit will give to the king. He is the Spirit of the LORD, the promise-making, promise-keeping God. He is the Spirit of wisdom and understanding, counsel and power, knowledge and of the fear of the LORD. The Spirit will enable the king to rule wisely, powerfully, as he walks in the fear of the LORD.

That fear of the LORD isn’t a phobia type of fear - you know, like arachnophobia is being afraid of spiders, or pognophobia is being afraid of beards. No, the fear of the LORD is an awe-filled, respect and honour for the LORD. And it’s this qualification that marks out the true king. Before King David, there was King Saul, but God rejected him for disobedience. Instead, God told Samuel the prophet that he was going to appoint ‘a man after my own heart.’ David was that man, but here we see the perfect king, Spirit-empowered, and truly delighting in the fear of the LORD.

Now those qualifications combined mean that, as much as we may think it, we are not the Messiah. We are not the world’s Saviour! That position is already filled, by the one who was descended from Jesse, the shoot and Branch, who was anointed with the Holy Spirit at his Baptism, as the dove descended on him. Jesus is the Messiah, the Christ, the king. He is uniquely qualified.

Next, we see the characteristics of his reign - justice and righteousness. First up, he judges justly:

‘He will not judge by what he sees with his eyes, or decide by what he hears with his ears; but with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth.’

So if he doesn’t judge by what he sees and hears, then how will he judge? Isaiah is pointing to the fact that this king doesn’t only see and hear the outside - our words and deeds. This king knows and judges based on our internal motives - our intentions and ambitions and motives for doing or saying something.

Sometimes we do good things for the wrong reasons - because we want to be thought well of by others; or to look good; or to shame others. While others only see our actions or hear our words, and might indeed think well of us, Jesus the King sees our heart and knows our motives. It’s that he is judging. And so his judgement is effective, and fair, and truly impartial. He will ensure justice for all, especially for the needy, and the poor of the earth.

But more than that, righteousness will be characteristic of his reign. So everything that is right, and in right relationship with God will flourish and prosper, but whatever stands opposed to God will be destroyed. No longer will sin spoil God’s creation:

He will strike the earth with the rod of his mouth; with the breath of his lips he will slay the wicked. Righteousness will be his belt and faithfulness the sash round his waist.’ (3-5)

It’s not that he has halitosis, a case of bad breath so deadly that he will slay the wicked with it. Rather, it’s the breath of his lips, the rod of his mouth, his word that will slay the wicked (as picked up by 2 Thess).

We’ve seen the qualifications of the King (the shoot of Jesse, Spirit-empowered), and the characteristics of his reign (justice and righteousness). In the last verses (6-9) we see the effects of his reign.

If you’ve been to Belfast Zoo recently, or Dublin Zoo - it’s all on the flat - then you’ll know that all the animals are in their own enclosures. They’re all kept separate. Lions in one. Leopards in another. The zoo farm in another area. Here and now, you wouldn’t find these verses in a zookeeper’s instruction manual:

‘The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them. The cow will feed with the bear, their young will lie down together, and the lion will eat straw like the ox.’ (6-7)

As Woody Allen once said, the lion will lie down with the lamb, but the lamb won’t get much sleep. To try this now would be a disaster - wolves and lambs; calves and lions, and a little child in with them? Cows and bears together? Not a chance! Not now anyway, but this is a picture of Messiah’s kingdom of peace. Enemies reconciled. No more danger or threat of violence. And that’s seen in how children will play:

‘The infant will play near the hole of the cobra, and the young child put his hand into the viper’s nest.’

The cobra and the viper are both poisonous snakes, deadly especially to infants. These days you stay away from them, but then, the danger will be gone. Christ’s reign of peace will have come to fruition:

‘They will neither harm nor destroy on all my holy mountain, for the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.’

No harm, no destroying, no death. Instead, the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD. Everyone will know him, be in relationship with him, live out that righteousness, and flourish in this reign of peace. And the knowledge of the LORD will be so full it’ll be like the waters cover the sea. Whenever you see the sea, there’s water. Waters and sea are the same - the sea is full of water! And the earth will be full of the knowledge of the LORD. We’ll all know him fully, as we are fully known. The effect of Messiah’s reign will be peace.

And, just beyond the poem part, we see verse 10. ‘In that day the Root of Jesse will stand as a banner for the peoples; the nations will rally to him, and his place of rest will be glorious.’

The Lord Jesus is a banner for the peoples - a standard, a flag, calling people to himself - good news of great joy for all the people, because the Saviour has been born. It’s what Jesus himself says in John 12: ‘But I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to myself.’ The cross stands as a banner, calling you to Jesus, the qualified king, who rules justly and will destroy the wicked, who offers you his peace through his salvation. It’s all possible because Jesus was born in Bethlehem, the Son of David, the Son of God. Will you come to him today?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday morning 23rd December 2018.

Sermon: Isaiah 9: 1-7 What child is this?

Whenever a baby is born, there are a few questions that are always asked. When was the baby born? How heavy was the baby? And, what are they calling it? And so I’ve learned to listen carefully, to try to remember the answers, because the questions are bound to be asked again!

In our reading tonight from Isaiah, we hear of a birth announcement. Now, normally, birth announcements are made after the birth has happened. So, maybe in the Irish Times, so-and-so and so-and-so announce the birth of their baby so-and-so. Or maybe something will be posted on Facebook. But this birth announcement in Isaiah 9 was made seven hundred years before the baby was born.

But forget about what weight the baby was. It’s not mentioned, and probably doesn’t matter. What does matter is found in verse 6 - that the baby has been born, and what the baby will be called.

‘For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.’

The important facts are recorded there in verse 6. That the baby has been born, and what the baby has been called. But to see why that matters, we need to see verse 6 in the wider context of the chapter and section of Isaiah’s prophecy.

The section begins back in chapter 7, in dangerous days in Jerusalem. King Ahaz, is on the throne in Jerusalem, the son of David ruling in David’s city. But by this time, the kingdom he’s ruling over is only a fragment of King David’s kingdom. The majority of tribes turned away from the kingdom to form the kingdom of Israel (slightly confusing!). And the sons of David rule over the bit called Judah.

And there’s a threat against Jerusalem from the nations of Aram and Israel. Everyone is fearful. But God promises that the nations won’t conquer Jerusalem. And in chapter 7 we find the sign of Immanuel (which we looked at this morning - the virgin giving birth to a son, called Immanuel, which means God with us.).

But even though the threat of Aram and Israel has gone, the people of Judah are going down a deadly path. They’re turning from God, turning instead to consult mediums and spiritists, turning from light to darkness. And that’s what we see by the end of chapter 8. ‘Then they will look towards the earth and see only distress and darkness and fearful gloom, and they will be thrust into utter darkness.’ (8:22)

Yet, as chapter 9 starts, God promises that even the dark places, will see light. The places that have suffered from enemy devastation will instead see honour and life. There’s the promise of light:

‘The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.’ (2)

We’re not used to pitch blackness these days with streetlights and electric lamps and car headlights. But without all those, when it was dark, it really was dark. And the darkness is a picture of our spiritual condition without God. Unable to see. Unseen. Without God’s light. But here God promises not just a tiny light, but a great light. A light dawning - the sun rise.
And because of that light, there will be joy. ‘You have enlarged the nation and increased their joy; they rejoice before you as people rejoice at the harvest, as men rejoice when dividing the plunder.’

There’s an increase in joy that comes through the light. And it’s compared to two other circumstances of joy. Imagine the joy of people rejoicing at harvest. The earth has yielded its increase, they’ll have food to eat, and so they rejoice, And that rejoicing is a picture of this rejoicing.

Or, imagine the joy when men are dividing the plunder. They’ve fought a battle, they’ve won a war, and now anything belonging to the enemy is theirs. They’re rejoicing because they’ve won, and because they’ve profited. This rejoicing is like that rejoicing.

The military picture continues, as the light and joy is compared to a previous victory. ‘For as in the day of Midian’s defeat, you have shattered the yoke that burdens them, the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their oppressor. Every warrior’s boot used in battle and every garment rolled in blood will be destined for burning, will be fuel for the fire.’ (4-5).

Isaiah looks back to the defeat of Midian, when an enemy was destroyed. Except this is an even bigger day that’s coming. It will mean that the yoke that burdens God’s people will be shattered. God’s people are pictured as the oxen, under a yoke, slaves, burdened. A bar across their shoulders. Being oppressed by a rod wielded by the enemy. The yoke, the bar, the rod, all shattered. Gone for good. There’s freedom and liberation. And more than that, there is peace.

There’ll be no more need of warriors’ boots. No more need of army camouflage outfits. They’ll all be used in the fire. All burned up.

So how is this possible? How can we have this light, this joy, this peace? It all comes through verse 6. As John Lennon sang: Merry Christmas (war is over). But it’s not just because of the Christmas pop tunes that peace comes. It’s because of the Christ of Christmas, the baby announced in verse 6.

This child is born, this son is given, ‘and the government will be on his shoulders.’ They say that a week is a long time in politics. I’m sure for Teresa May, this past year has seemed like an eternity, as the government seems to be at war amongst itself, and as Teresa faced that confidence vote.

But here, this promised baby will shoulder the burden of government himself. And he is the one for the job, as we see because of what he is called. When you look at verse 6, these aren’t the kinds of names that you’ll hear in a playground or a school roll call. These are names that are only fit for one person in the whole of history - the baby born in Bethlehem:

First up, he is the Wonderful Counsellor. Now that’s not a lovely member of the local district council. This isn’t someone serving on Armagh Banbridge and Craigavon Council! This counsellor provides wonderful counsel, advice, encouragement. He’s the one who draws alongside, stands with you, who provides wisdom, giving help in time of need.

Remember when some of the crowds will leave when Jesus says some hard things in John 6? Jesus says to the twelve, will you also leave? Peter answers, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.’ If you’re wondering about the future; if you’re unsure where to turn; if you need some wisdom - come to the Wonderful Counsellor, the fount of wisdom.

This baby is also the Mighty God. This is no ordinary baby - this is God himself, stepping down to be born as a baby, still powerful and mighty. It doesn’t take long to think of the ways in which this baby will show his power - as he walks on water; as he calms the storm; as he drives out diseases, and makes the lame leap for joy. God has come near, and is lying in the manger. He is almighty, all-powerful, and can do all things. What is it you need him to do? Come to the Mighty God, the source of power.

Thirdly, we see that this baby is the Everlasting Father, or as some would suggest, ‘Father of eternity’. He is in the position of authority for all eternity. Indeed, as Isaiah goes on to say, ‘of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end.’ We’re so used to things having expiry dates - the first mince pies that Tesco had on their shelves back in September would be out of date by now! We update our cars and clothes. But the kingdom of Jesus goes on for eternity, and we’re invited to be with him. Come to the Everlasting Father, and worship him now and forevermore.

The final name for the baby is Prince of Peace. The baby lying in the manger is the one who brings peace. That’s what the host of angels confirmed, as they sang ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!’ In a world of war, we long for the peace that he brings. Even in recent days, when we hear of ; as well as the places that don’t make it into the news, or which we’ve simply forgotten about; we long for peace.

The promised Son is the one who brings peace, because he gave himself for us rebels, to bring us back to God and bring an end to our conflict. Peace comes through the death of the Prince of Peace.

As you come close to Christmas, as you gaze into the manger, don’t just see a tiny baby, wrapped in swaddling cloths. Ask yourself - what child is this? He is the Wonderful Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace. He is the source of our light, our joy, and our peace. And he was born to us, and was given to us. Will you receive him, this Christmas?

This sermon was preached in St Matthew's Church, Richhill on Sunday evening 16th December 2018.