Readings, hymns and sermon ideas for Sunday 11 July 2021, Sixth Sunday after Trinity

The Execution of Saint John the Baptist … an early 18th century icon from the Monastery of Saint John the Theologian in Anopolis, in the Museum of Christian Art in the Church of Saint Catherine of Sinai in Iraklion in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday next, 11 July 2021, is the Sixth Sunday after Trinity Trinity VI).

The appointed readings in the Revised Common Lectionary for Sunday, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland, are:

The Continuous readings: II Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19; Psalm 24; Ephesians 1: 3-14; Mark 6: 14-29.

The Paired readings: Amos 7: 7-15; Psalm 85: 8-13; Ephesians 1: 3-14; Mark 6: 14-29.

There is a link to the two sets of readings HERE.

Inside the chapel of Saint John’s Hospital, Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Introducing the Readings:

It is less than two weeks since we commemorated the Birth of Saint John the Baptist (24 June 2021). Now, on Sunday text, the Gospel reading recalls the execution of Saint the Baptist.

Two of my own places for regular pilgrimage, retreat and renewal are the Chapel of the Hospital of Saint John the Baptist in Lichfield, where I had my first adult experience of being filled with the light and love of God, and where I was invited to preach some years ago (2015) at the Festal Eucharist on the Feast of the Birth of Saint John the Baptist; and the Monastery of Saint John the Baptist in Tollenshunt Knights, which I tried to visit once a year when I am on study leave in Cambridge.

In the first reading next Sunday (II Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19), David sets out on a pilgrimage to bring the Ark of the Covenant to Mount Zion, to Jerusalem. But it is not a journey without cost. Seeing David’s behaviour, his wife Michal despises and loathes him in her heart (verse 16).

In the Gospel reading (Mark 6: 14-29), we are caught in an in-between time.

At one bookend, we have the previous Sunday’s reading, when Christ is faced with rejection when he returns home to Nazareth and when he warns the disciples that they too face rejection in their ministry and mission.

The other bookend is an episode later in this chapter (30-32), when Christ calls his disciples together to go with him to a deserted place and to rest for a while.

Pilgrimage and retreat are not necessarily about spiritual comfort and solace. Sometimes, they are about preparing to face the truth, to face the world as it really is.

Sunday’s Gospel story is full of stark, cruel, violent reality. To achieve this dramatic effect, it is told with recall, or with the use of the devise modern movie-makers call ‘back story.’

Cruel Herod has already executed Saint John the Baptist – long ago. Now he hears about the miracles and signs being worked by Jesus and his disciples.

Some people think he is Saint John the Baptist, even though John has been executed. Others think Jesus is Elijah – and popular belief at the time expected Elijah to return at Judgment Day (Malachi 4: 5).

On the other hand, Herod, the deranged Herod who has already had John beheaded, wonders whether John is back again. And we are presented with a flashback to the story of Saint John the Baptist, how he was executed in a moment of passion, how Herod grieved, and how John was buried.

At this point, the story reminds us of the cost of discipleship, and prepares us for the accounts later in this Gospel of the arrest of Jesus, his trial, including being brought before Herod, his execution, and his burial.

Saint John the Baptist remains a key figure for all traditions in the Middle East and beyond. In the Eastern Orthodox Church, he is the last of the prophets, providing the bridge between the Old Testament and the New Testament.

Several places claim they have the severed head of Saint John the Baptist, and have become centres of pilgrimage, including a church in Rome, in the past two churches in England, the Monastery of Saint Macarius in Wadi Natrun in the Western Desert in Egypt, and the Umayyad Mosque in Damascus.

When the late Pope John Paul II took off his shoes and prayed at the shrine of Saint John the Baptist in the Umayyad Mosque on a pilgrimage to Damascus ten years ago (2001), he sent out a clear message that Christians and Muslims can work together and can find more that unites us than divides us.

I have also visited the Monastery of Saint Macarius in the Western Desert. Each day, in normal, non-pandemic times, this monastery receives large numbers of Egyptian and foreign visitors, sometimes as many as 1,000 a day, both Christian and Muslim. Despite the upheavals and violence in Egypt in recent years, this monastery is playing a significant role in the spiritual awakening of the Coptic Church.

The monastery website says: ‘We receive all our visitors, no matter what their religious conviction, with joy, warmth and graciousness, not out of a mistaken optimism, but in genuine and sincere love for each person.’

Going out into the desert to this monastery is not a retreat from the world; it is an invitation to a new commitment to renewal, ecumenism and dialogue.

Those places associated with Saint John the Baptist can be reminders that pilgrimage and retreat are not withdrawals from the world, but are challenges to the ways of the world, particularly at times of injustice and violence.

Those places associated with Saint John the Baptist in the Middle East, including Syria and Egypt, remind us that there is another way. That we are not disciples of Herod, that blood-letting for the sake of power and victimising people of religion is not the way for people of religion who share a vision of peace.

‘David and all the house of Israel were dancing before the Lord with all their might, with songs and lyres and harps and tambourines and castanets and cymbals’ (II Samuel 6: 1-5) … a carving of King David in Saint Botolph without Aldgate Church, London (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

II Samuel 6: 1-5, 12b-19:

With God’s help, David has won battles against the Philistines. But in one of those battles, the Philistines captured the Ark. While the ark was in their hands, the Philistines suffered a plague. They blamed their sufferings on the Ark, and so returned it to Israel.

The Israelites used the wood of the cart the Ark arrived on as fuel for burning an offering, and they moved the Ark to the house of Abinadab in Baale-judah.

Now David and all the people process with the Ark on a new cart, drawn by oxen, towards Jerusalem. The Ark symbolises God’s presence among them, and the cherubim were winged figures guarding the holy object.

The procession is a joyful one, until Uzzah touches the Ark, perhaps to steady it; he has touched a sacred object and he dies. David is angry but afraid of God, and he halts the procession, leaving the Ark with Obed-edom the Gittite.

But David still wishes to make Jerusalem the religious and political capital of his people, and the procession resumes. David now makes a ritual sacrifice to God – at the time, the king could offer a sacrifice, although later only a priest could do so.

When David’s wife Michal, Saul’s daughter, sees David leaping and dancing, she despises him. Perhaps this is because she has no children and knows that Saul’s line will not continue through David (see verse 23). But there are other possible explanations for her negative emotions: she has been torn away from her first husband; she has found she is just one among many wives; David wore only an ephod, so he was almost naked.

The Ark is housed in a tent, as it was during the Exodus. David wishes to erect a permanent house for it, but it is King Solomon who in time builds the first Temple.

‘Israel must go into exile away from this land’ (Amos 7: 11) … a reconstruction of the gates of an Assyrian palace in the Pergamon Museum, Berlin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Amos 7: 7-15:

The reign of King Jeroboam II (786-746 BCE) was a time of prosperity for Israel, the northern kingdom. But social and religious corruption were rife, many people worshipped materialism and other gods, and a pending invasion was threatened by the neighbouring Assyrian empire.

Amos began life as both a breeder of cattle or sheep, herdsman, and a fruit farmer or dresser of sycamore trees. He was born in Tekoa, which was in sheep country in the hills in northern Judah. He may have owned land in the Jordan valley, where sycamores flourished. Dressing sycamores was a delicate task: Palestinian sycamores bear fruit, much like figs, that has to be dressed or punctured to make it edible.

God calls Amos to leave behind his prosperity, to warn the northern kingdom about impending doom, a result of the waywardness of the rulers and the people.

In the verses before this reading (verses 1-6), God gives Amos two visions of planned devastation: of locusts devouring the crops, and of fire consuming the whole of creation. In both cases, Amos intercedes with God on behalf of the people, pointing out that Israel is weak and helpless spiritually. God listens to Amos and cancels his plans.

Now in this reading, however, in verses 7-9, when Israel is tested like a wall with a plumb line, it fails to measure up. Amos raises no plea against divine judgment this time. God will no longer ignore the errant ways of the people. He will destroy both the high places where they have their mountain-top altars at which early Israel and pagans, worshipped, and their sanctuaries dedicated to him. Through the conquering Assyrians, the house Jeroboam is to come to an end ‘with the sword.’

Bethel was the principal northern shrine to God, and Amaziah was the royal priest there. Amaziah speaks to King Jeroboam, quotes Amos out of context and accuses Amos of upsetting civil order and treason.

King Jeroboam sends Amos into exile, banishing him to Judah. Amos replies that he is not a professional prophet, paid to say what the king wishes to hear, but is called by God.

Later, in the closing verses of this chapter (verses 16-17), we read that because Amaziah has contradicted God’s orders, Israel will be invaded, there will be rape, murder and plunder; Amaziah the priest, keen on remaining ritually clean, ‘shall die in an unclean land’; and Israel shall be exiled to Assyria.

‘Lift up your heads, O gates! and be lifted up, O ancient doors!’ (Psalm 24, 7, 9) … old doors seen through the gates of Cappoquin House, Co Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psalm 24:

Psalm 24 is a song of joyous procession to the Temple. This psalm reflects an ancient myth that tells of the divine conquest of the unruly forces of chaos, but the psalm becomes a hymn of praise to God the creator, followed by a liturgy on entering the Temple. The opening verses mirror the act of creation. The connection between Creation and the Temple is based on the idea that the Temple was a microcosm of the universe, and its construction a human counterpart to the Divine creation of the cosmos.

With its question-and-answer format, it was probably sung antiphonally, as the Ark was borne to the Temple.

Psalm 24 begins with creation, ‘The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it’ (verse 1), and moves directly to the moral requirements of religious life: ‘Who shall ascend to the hill of the Lord?’ (verse 3).

Verses 4-6 give the answer: those who are pure, who do not worship false gods, and who do not harm others with false oaths. They will be blessed by God, with prosperity. Just as God created an orderly universe, so we are commanded to create an orderly society. Worshipping God in the Temple is not divorced from honesty and integrity in daily life.

In the second half of this psalm (verses 7-10), the pilgrims identify God in terms traditionally associated with the Ark: he is ‘the King of glory,’ ‘the Lord of hosts,’ the victor and the hero of Israel.

The words ‘Lift up your heads, O gates!’ (verses 7, 9), are said, traditionally, to have been said by King Solomon when the Ark, containing the tablets of the covenant, was first brought into the Temple. The doors are those between the outer court and the sanctuary of the Temple. Perhaps a priest asks: ‘Who is the King of glory?’ (verse 8, 10) from within, and the people answer from the court. God dwells in the sanctuary.

‘Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps’ (Psalm 85: 13) … a walk in the dark in Marlay Park, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Psalm 85: 8-13:

In the verses before this reading, Psalm 85 tells of God’s restoration of Israel, releasing them from Exile. But times are difficult for the people who have returned to a ravaged land. Verses 4-7 are a prayer that God may again show favour in these present difficulties: ‘restore us again’ (verse 4), ‘revive us’ (verse 6), ‘grant us your salvation’ (verse 7).

Now, in the second half of the psalm (verse 8-13), the psalmist hears God speaking, and promising his blessings.

The people will receive peace (verse 8), ‘salvation is at hand’ (verse 9), and God’s glory will dwell in the land (verse 9).

With God now dwelling among them, the people are promised steadfast love, faithfulness, righteousness and peace (verse 10), four of God’s attributes that become God’s gifts to humanity.

The human response then brings promises of prosperity, fruitfulness and justice in life. Despite these dark times, the people can look forward to a time of justice and peace, poetically expressed in closing verse: ‘Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps (verse 13).

‘In Christ we also have obtained an inheritance’ (Ephesians 1: 11) … crosses on archaeological remains in the Basilica in Ephesus (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Ephesians 1: 3-14:

This is the first of a series of seven readings from the Letter to the Ephesians, continuing this year until Sunday 22 August.

The Revd Richard Coles is the Vicar of Finedon in the Diocese of Peterborough and with Jimmy Somerville formed the Communards, who had three Top Ten hits in the 1980s. He is an author, the regular host of BBC Radio 4’s Saturday Live, a regular contributor to QI, Would I Lie to You? and Have I Got News for You, and Chancellor of the University of Northampton.

When The Guardian recently [5 June 2021] asked Richard Coles to name the book that changed his life, he replied: ‘St Paul’s Epistle to the Ephesians, or as I described it in my widely unread thesis, not by St Paul, not an epistle, and nothing to do with Ephesus. That said it is one of the most enthralling and challenging explorations of what it means to be a Christian.’

This reading begins immediately after the Apostle Paul’s greeting to his readers in the first two verses.

The opening words, ‘Blessed be …’ (verse 3), echo Jewish and early Christian prayers. Saint Paul reminds the Church in Ephesus that God has brought us, by way of Christ, ‘every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places’ (verse 3), for God had planned for Christ to come to us, so that we would be holy, set apart, living in love, as God’s adopted children and so members of his one family (verse 5), giving praise and glory to God (verse 6).

The word ‘Beloved’ (verse 6) is the meaning of the Hebrew name of David. So, as a description of Christ, this alludest to and affirms the messianic status of Jesus. Its use also recalls his baptism by Saint John the Baptist, when a voice was heard saying ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you, I am well pleased’ (see Mark 1: 11).

Through Christ’s life, death and resurrection, we are freed, redeemed, forgiven and receive our spiritual gifts, including wisdom and insight (verses 7-9). We are partners in God’s plan for creation, disclosed in Christ. Christ’s life, death and resurrection (verses 9-10).

In Christ, we have been adopted by God, and we receive an inheritance (verse 11). We are the forerunners of the many who are to set our hope on Christ. Saint Paul tells the Christians he is writing to in Ephesus that, having heard the Gospel and believed in Christ, they have been baptised and became part of the Church, the Body of Christ. The inner presence of the Holy Spirit is a sign of God’s promise being fulfilled in his people (verse 14).

Father Irenaeus, a monk in the Monastery of Saint Macarius in Wadi Natrun, showing the relics of the Prophet Elijah and Saint John the Baptist in the crypt below the church (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Mark 6: 14-29:

Christ’s disciples have gone out, preached repentance, cast out demons, and cured many sick people. But, as people gather around him, the authorities begin to reject him.

Some people think he is Saint John the Baptist, who has come back to life after being beheaded, now working miracles with new power. Others compare Christ’s actions with Elijah, who was taken up to heaven (see II Kings 2: 11), and was expected to return at the end of days (see Malachi 4: 5-6). Still others think he is like the prophets of old. But no-one suggests that he is the Messiah. Even Herod wonders whether Christ is Saint John the Baptist who has returned from the dead, despite having been beheaded.

Saint Mark then returns to the story of the arrest and execution of Saint John the Baptist (verses 17-29). Herod Antipas, Tetrarch of Galilee, arrested John after he denounced Herod for marrying his brother’s wife, which is illegal in Levitical law (see Leviticus 18: 16, 20: 21).

Herodias ‘wanted to kill him’ (verse 19). Even so, Herod was fascinated by John, ‘he liked to listen to him’ (verse 20) and he did not wish his death. The story ends with her deceit and the horrific consequences of her getting her way.

The account of John’s execution anticipates the future facing Christ and some of the disciples, and Christ’s own burial (see Mark 15: 45-47), while the very notion that John might be raised from the dead, despite his execution, anticipates Christ’s resurrection.

A fresco of Saint John the Baptist by the icon writer Alexandra Kaouki in a church in Rethymnon

A reflection on the Gospel reading

Did you ever get mistaken for someone else?

Or, do you ever wonder whether the people you work with, or who are your neighbours, really know who you are?

I am thinking of two examples. Anthony Hope Hawkins, son of the Vicar of Saint Bride’s in Fleet Street, was walking home to his father’s vicarage in London one dusky evening when he came face to face with a man who looked like his mirror image.

He wondered what would happen if they swapped places, if this double went back to Saint Bride’s vicarage, while he headed off instead to the suburbs.

Would anyone notice?

It inspired him, under the penname of Anthony Hope, to write his best-selling novel, The Prisoner of Zenda.

The other example I think of is the way I so often hear people expressing a lack of personal confidence, but who are being complimented on some success or achievement, yet put themselves down with sayings such as: ‘If they only knew what I’m really like … if they only knew what I’m truly like …’

What are you truly like?

And would you honestly want to swap your life for someone else’s?

Would you take on all their woes, and angsts and burdens, along with their way of life?

It is a recurring theme for poets, writers and philosophers over the centuries, including John Donne, Izaak Walton, Shelley, Goethe and Dostoyevsky.

Some years ago, it was the dramatic theme in John Boorman’s movie The Tiger’s Tail (2006), in which Brendan Gleeson plays both the main character and his protagonist – is he his doppelgänger, a forerunner warning of doom, destruction and death? Or is he the lost twin brother who envies his achievements and lifestyle?

The doppelgänger was regarded as a harbinger of doom and death.

There is a way in which Saint John the Baptist, Saint John Prodromos or Saint John the Forerunner, is seen as the harbinger of the death of his own cousin, Jesus Christ.

As well as attracting similar followers and having similar messages, did these two cousins, in fact, look so like one another physically?

But Herod had known John the Baptist, he knew him as a righteous and a holy man, and he protected him. Why, he even liked to listen to John.

Do you think Herod was confused about the identities of Christ and of Saint John the Baptist?

Or is Herod so truly deranged that he can believe someone he has executed, whose severed head he has seen, could come back to life in such a short period?

If Herod is that unstable and that mad, he is surely unsuitable for sitting on the throne.

Or is Herod’s reaction merely one of exasperation and exhaustion: ‘Oh no! Not that John, back again!’

If Herod is deranged or exasperated, then his courtiers are confused.

Some of them say Christ is Elijah – not just any old prophet, but the prophet that popular belief held would return at the great Passover, at the end of the days (see Malachi 4: 5).

Others say he is ‘a prophet, like one of the prophets of old’ – the old order is passing away, a new order is being ushered in as part of God’s great plans for humanity and the whole of creation.

Even before John was making way for Christ, God himself has planned for Christ’s followers to become members of his family, to be adopted as his children.

As Saint Paul tells us in the Epistle reading, the fulfilment of this is God’s will and God’s ‘pleasure’ (Ephesians 1: 5) – words similar to that heard after Saint John baptises Christ in the Jordan – when a voice from heaven says: ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’ (Mark 1: 11).

This plan, which will come to fruition when God’s eternal purposes are completed, is to unite all creation, all ‘heaven’ and ‘earth,’ in Christ.

In this way, we too are forerunners; we who know the wonder of God’s promises are the forerunners of those who will benefit from and be blessed by the completion of God’s eternal purposes, uniting all creation, all ‘heaven’ and ‘earth.’

To be a disciple is to follow a risky calling – or at least it ought to be so.

In the previous passage, Christ has sent out the disciples to preach repentance, to cast out demons, to cure sick people. But they are beginning to realise that the authorities are rejecting Christ.

Now with Herod’s maniacal and capricious way of making decisions, discipleship has become an even more risk-filled commitment.

But Herod’s horrid banquet runs right into the next story in Saint Mark’s Gospel where Christ feeds the 5,000, a sacramental sign of the invitation to all to the heavenly banquet – more than we can imagine can be fed in any human undertaking.

The invitation to Herod’s banquet, for the privileged and the prejudiced, is laden with the smell of death.

The invitation to Christ’s banquet, for the marginalised and the rejected, is laden with the promise of life.

Herod feeds the prejudices of his own family and a closed group of courtiers.

Christ shows that, despite the initial prejudices of the disciples, all are welcome at his banquet.

Herod is in a lavish palace in his city, but is isolated and deserted.

Christ withdraws to an open but deserted place to be alone, but a great crowd follows him.

Herod fears the crowd beyond his palace gates.

Christ rebukes the disciples for wanting to keep the crowds away.

Herod offers his daughter half his kingdom.

Christ offers us all, as God’s children, the fullness of the kingdom of God.

Herod’s daughter asks for John’s head on a platter.

On the mountainside, Christ feeds all, and although at the beginning all we can offer is five loaves and two fish, more than 5,000 are fed – and even then, 12 baskets are left over.

Saint Mark places these two stories, one after the other, so we can see the stark contrasts between two very different banquets.

During these tough times, people ought not to be ashamed if they and their families need food and shelter. Everybody has the right to food and housing.

Our lives are filled with choices.

Herod chooses loyalty to his inner circle and their greed.

Christ tells his disciples to make a choice in favour of those who need food and shelter.

Herod’s banquet leads to destruction and death.

Christ’s banquet is an invitation to building the kingdom and to new life.

But how many of us in our lives would rather be at Herod’s Banquet for the few in the palace that to be with Christ as he feeds the masses in the wilderness?

Who would you invite to the banquet?

And who do you think feels excluded from the banquet?

We may never get the chance to be like Herod when it comes to lavish banqueting and decadent partying.

But we have an opportunity to be party to inviting the many to the banquet that really matters.

Do you remember how as dusk was falling in the wilderness and the disciples saw the crowd were hungry? And they said to Jesus: ‘the hour is now very late; send them away so that they may go into the surrounding country and villages and buy something for themselves to eat’ (Mark 6: 35-36).

Are we in danger of confusing Herod, the harbinger of doom and death, with Christ, who comes that we may have life and have it to the full?

Who feels turned away from the banquet by the Church today, abandoned and left to fend for themselves?

Saint John the Baptist with Patriarchs and Apostles in a stained glass window in Truro Cathedral … from left: Noah with the Ark; Moses with the Ten Commandments; Saint John the Baptist; Saint Peter with the keys; and Saint Philip the Deacon with a pilgrim's shell also used for baptism (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Mark 6: 14-29 (NRSVA):

14 King Herod heard of it, for Jesus’ name had become known. Some were saying, ‘John the baptizer has been raised from the dead; and for this reason these powers are at work in him.’ 15 But others said, ‘It is Elijah.’ And others said, ‘It is a prophet, like one of the prophets of old.’ 16 But when Herod heard of it, he said, ‘John, whom I beheaded, has been raised.’

17 For Herod himself had sent men who arrested John, bound him, and put him in prison on account of Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife, because Herod had married her. 18 For John had been telling Herod, ‘It is not lawful for you to have your brother’s wife.’ 19 And Herodias had a grudge against him, and wanted to kill him. But she could not, 20 for Herod feared John, knowing that he was a righteous and holy man, and he protected him. When he heard him, he was greatly perplexed; and yet he liked to listen to him. 21 But an opportunity came when Herod on his birthday gave a banquet for his courtiers and officers and for the leaders of Galilee. 22 When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests; and the king said to the girl, ‘Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.’ 23 And he solemnly swore to her, ‘Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.’ 24 She went out and said to her mother, ‘What should I ask for?’ She replied, ‘The head of John the baptizer.’ 25 Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, ‘I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.’ 26 The king was deeply grieved; yet out of regard for his oaths and for the guests, he did not want to refuse her. 27 Immediately the king sent a soldier of the guard with orders to bring John’s head. He went and beheaded him in the prison, 28 brought his head on a platter, and gave it to the girl. Then the girl gave it to her mother. 29 When his disciples heard about it, they came and took his body, and laid it in a tomb.

Saint John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary … a scene in the chancel of Saint Bartholomew’s Church, Ballsbridge, Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Liturgical Resources:

Liturgical Colour: Green

The Collect:

Merciful God,
you have prepared for those who love you
such good things as pass our understanding:
Pour into our hearts such love toward you
that we, loving you above all things,
may obtain your promises,
which exceed all that we can desire;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Collect of the Word:

Generous God,
we thank you that, by your grace,
you have made your Son known to us,
and have adopted us as your children,
marking us with the seal of your Spirit.
Help us to praise you with all our might
and to bless others in all our deeds
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Post-Communion Prayer:

God of our pilgrimage,
you have led us to the living water.
Refresh and sustain us
as we go forward on our journey,
in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.

The fifth century mosaic of the Baptism of Christ by Saint John the Baptist in the Neonian Baptistry in Ravenna (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Suggested Hymns:

II Samuel 6: 1–5, 12b-19:

529, Thy hand, O God, has guided

Psalm 24:

48, God in his love for us lent us this planet
266, Hail the day that sees him rise
337, Lift up your heads, O ye gates
131, Lift up your heads, you mighty gates
134, Make way, make way for Christ the King
284, The golden gates are lifted up

Amos 7: 7-15:

381, God has spoken – by his prophets

Psalm 85: 8-13:

695, God of mercy, God of grace
539, Rejoice, O land, in God thy might
140, The Lord will come and not be slow

Ephesians 1: 3-14:

84, Alleluia! raise the anthem
189, As with gladness men of old
318, Father, Lord of all creation
352, Give thanks with a grateful heart
99, Jesus, the name high over all
652, Lead us, heavenly Father, lead us
524, May the grace of Christ our Saviour
363, O Lord of heaven and earth and sea
313, The Spirit came as promised
9, There’s a wideness in God’s mercy
373, To God be the glory! Great things he has done! 451, We come as guests invited

Mark 6: 14-29:

460, For all your saints in glory, for all your saints at rest

In addition, Hymn 471 (Rejoice in God’s saints) may be suitable.

Herod’s daughter dances for the head of Saint John the Baptist … a fresco in the Church of Analipsi in Georgioupoli, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The hymn suggestions are provided in Sing to the Word (2000), edited by Bishop Edward Darling. The hymn numbers refer to the Church of Ireland’s Church Hymnal (5th edition, Oxford: OUP, 2000)

Material from the Book of Common Prayer is copyright © 2004, Representative Body of the Church of Ireland.

The beheading of Saint John the Baptist … a fresco in the Church of Analipsi in Georgioupoli, Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Readings, hymns and sermon ideas for Sunday 19 July 2020, Sixth Sunday after Trinity

‘Gather the wheat into my barn’ (Matthew 13: 30) … a barn on a farm at Cross in Hand Lane, outside Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Next Sunday, 19 July 2020, is the Sixth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VI).

The readings in the Revised Common Lectionary, as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland, are in two pairs, the Continuous Readings and the Paired Readings.

The Continuous Readings: Genesis 28: 10-19a; Psalm 139: 1-11, 23-24; Romans 8: 12-25; Matthew 13: 24-30, 36-43.

There is a link to Continuous Readings HERE.

The Paired Readings: Wisdom 12: 13, 16-19 or Isaiah 44: 6-8;Psalm 86: 11-17; Romans 8: 12-25; Matthew 13: 24-30, 36-43.

There is a link to Paired Readings HERE.

Gnasher and Gnipper in the Beano always seemed to be ready to gnash their teeth

Introducing the Readings:

In my imagination, when I was a child, not only were the summers long and sunny, but weekend entertainment was simpler and less complicated. The highlights of the weekend seemed to be Dr Who and Dixon of Dock Green, and the weekly editions of the Eagle and the Beano.

I may have been just a little too old (16) for the first appearance of Gnasher (1968), the pet dog of Dennis the Menace in the Beano.

The G- tagged onto the beginning of the name of both Gnasher and his son Gnipper is pronounced silently, just like the silent P at the beginning of Psmith, the Rupert Psmith in so many PG Wodehouse novels.

Most of the Beano speech bubbles for both Gnasher and Gnipper consist of normal English words beginning with the letter ‘N’ with a silent ‘G’ added to the beginning, as in ‘Gnight, Gnight.’

I was a little too old for the introduction of Gnasher, but nonetheless my friends in my late teens and early 20s loved Gnasher and Gniper, joked about those silent ‘Gs’ and even recalled how as children we had joked about ‘weeping and G-nashing of teeth.’

There is very little to joke about in Sunday’s Gospel reading (Matthew 13: 24-30, 36-43). The idea of people being thrown into the furnace of fire is not a very appealing image for children, and so to joke about it is a childhood method of coping.

But throughout history, humanity has stooped to burn what we dislike and what we want to expunge, and we have done it constantly.

We have been burning books as Christians since Saint Athanasius ordered the burning of texts in Alexandria in the year 367.

In the Middle Ages, and sometimes even later, we burned heretics at the stake. When that stopped, we burned anything deemed to be an occasions of sin.

They were burned publicly as an accompanying theme for the outdoor sermons of San Bernardino da Siena in the early 15th century. These included mirrors, cosmetics, fine dresses, playing cards … even musical instruments, and, of course, books, song sheets, artworks, paintings and sculpture.

In his sermons, the book-burning friar regularly called for Jews and gays to be either isolated from society or eliminated from the human community.

Later in Florence, the supporters of Savonarola collected and publicly burned thousands of objects, including cosmetics, art, and books in 1497.

And, more recently, the Nazis staged regular book burnings, especially burning books by Jewish writers, including Thomas Mann, Karl Marx and Albert Einstein.

Extremists of all religious and political persuasions want to burn the symbols and totems of their opponents, whether it is Pastor Terry Jones burning the Quran and effigies of Bill Clinton and Barack Obama in Florida or jihadists burning the Twin Towers in New York.

The limits of our extremists seem to be defined by their inflammatory words.

But who is being burned in this morning’s Gospel reading?

Who is doing the burning?

And who will be weeping and gnashing their teeth?

Contrary to the shoddy reading of this Gospel reading, Christians are not asked to burn anyone or anything at all. And, if we have enemies, we are called not to burn them but to love them.

‘There was a ladder … reaching to heaven; and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it’ (Genesis 28: 12) … ascending and descending angels on a frosted-glass door in Coventry Cathedral (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Genesis 28: 10-19a:

Isaac has sent Jacob off to find a wife for himself in Haran. He, like Isaac, is expected to marry one of his own clan. But, unlike Isaac, he is sent on the journey himself. On the way, Jacob stops for the night at Bethel, meaning ‘House of God,’ and he dreams. In those days, travellers slept on the ground using hard pillows.

The word translated ‘place’ (verse 11) implies that the place is sacred. The scene is reminiscent of a ziggurat, or a massive, terraced religious structure, with successively receding stories or levels on which there was a stairway or ladder (verse 12) to the top, and there the deity was believed to live. The Tower of Babel, whose name means ‘Gateway to God,’ may have been one such ziggurat.

The image of angels ascending and descending suggests contact with God.

God speaks, identifying himself as God of the patriarchs, Abraham and Isaac. So this God is not some mere local god that might be identified with that place alone, which was common in the region. The promises in verses 13-14 are those made to Abraham, but the promise in verse 15 is specially for Jacob: God will watch over or keep him wherever he is; God is present everywhere, not just in this place.

Jacob is awe-struck or afraid, and says that the place is awe-inspiring or awesome. This, he says, is the ‘House of God,’ Bethel, and the ‘Gate of Heaven.’ On the following morning, Jacob sets up his stone pillow to mark the presence of a deity, as was the local custom, and consecrates it.

The former Chief Rabbi, Lord (Jonathan) Sacks, Jacob’s dream is the metaphor above all others that captures the spirit of prayer.

When he wakes, Jacob declares, ‘How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God, and this is the gate of heaven’ (verse 17). The Jewish Sages traditionally said ‘this place’ was Jerusalem. Jonathan Sacks accepts that this is Midrashic truth, but adds that there is another meaning that is no less transfiguring. The verb the Torah uses, vayifgah, means ‘to happen upon, as if by chance.’ He says ‘this place’ is any place: ‘Any place, any time, even the dark of a lonely night, can be a place and time for prayer. If we have the strength to dream and then, awakening, refuse to let go of the dream, then here, now, where I stand, can be the gate to heaven.’

He continues: ‘Prayer is a ladder and we are the angels.’ He identifies the one theme sounded throughout traditional Jewish prayer as ‘creation-revelation-redemption, or ascent-summit-descent.’

In prayer, he says, we climb the divine ladder and see, if only dimly, how small some of our worries are. ‘We are not the same after we have stood in the Divine presence as we were before. We have been transformed. We see the world in a different light. Perhaps we radiate a different light. We have spoken and listened to God. We have aligned ourselves with the moral energies of the universe. We have become … vessels for God’s blessing. We are changed by prayer.’

‘You encompass me behind and before and lay your hand upon me’ (Psalm 139: 4) … ‘Healing Hands,’ a sculpture by Shane Gilmore in grounds of the Cathedral of Saint Peter and Saint Paul in Ennis, Co Clare (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Psalm 139: 1-11, 23-24:

Psalm 139 is a hymn attributed to David, and is known for its affirmation of God’s omnipresence. It is part of the final Davidic collection of psalms (Psalm 138 to Psalm 145), that are attributed to David in the first verse.

The psalm addresses God, and the speaker calls out and establishes a salutation and an understanding of what he knows God to be. He goes on to marvel at the omnipresence of God, even in the most secret of places, and to praise God for his vast knowledge of the future. The psalmist praises God in terms of supreme authority, and being able to witness everything on heaven, earth and in the underworld. Through this psalm, the psalmist insists on God being the only true God and challenges anyone to question his faith.

First this psalm praises God for his personal knowledge of the author. God has come to know him through searching him out. He knows him completely, all the way from his sitting down (verse 2) to his rising up. Verse 2 says God is present everywhere. The psalmist is astonished at God’s involvement with him, including knowing all that he says and does (verse 4).

Wherever he is, God is there; God is also present in the nether world (verse 7). Even if were taken up to heaven (verse 8, as Elijah was), God is there. God will lead him and support him, even if he tries a speedy escape (verse 9) or lives in the sea.

Finally, in verse 23-24, the psalmist pleads for God’s justice and for his guidance, so that his heart and mind may be in unity with God. Please God, if there is anything that is wicked in my heart or mind, lead my into your way, that is everlasting.

‘For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God … the creation itself will be set free’ (Romans 8: 19-21) … a church tower above the banks of the River Liffey at Chapelizod, Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2020)

Romans 8: 12-25:

The Apostle Paul has told his readers that the Christian is a life is a life lived in the Spirit rather than being dominated by worldly desires and being self-centred. We are still subject to suffering, to bearing crosses and affliction, but not to eternal condemnation. And, because we are not condemned, we have hope.

Now Saint Paul reminds us that we are indebted to God. We are to live in the way of the Spirit, for this is the way of life. We are led by the Spirit, and so we are children of God. In Baptism, we are adopted by God. Unlike slaves who live in fear of their master, we have become God’s children and his heirs, so that we can call him ‘Abba! Father!’ In calling him ‘Dad,’ we not only give God glory but express the close relationship we have with God.

We are joint heirs with Christ, for we share his suffering and are glorified with him.

Saint Paul now relates this to the present situation. Saint Paul’s suffering and our suffering are nothing compared with the glory we are being promised.

For Saint Paul, everyone and everything in creation has suffered. But it is God’s hope that everything will be set free and that in this freedom we will become the free children of God.

In this way, Saint Paul can compare the present sufferings of the world to the labour pains of a mother giving birth, we may suffer but we are guided by the Holy Spirit so that we are able to wait in patience.

‘Other seeds fell on good soil and brought forth grain’ (Matthew 13: 8) … fields at Cross in Hand Lane, in rural Staffordshire, near Lichfield (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Matthew 13: 24-30, 36-43:

In this parable, Christ compares the kingdom of God to the events surrounding a sower sowing or scattering some seed in a field, and he challenges us to think about what happens to the seed after it falls.

Three times in this parable the image of gathering occurs (see verses 28-30), offering us our clue that Christ is speaking of the community of faith.

This good seed is going to yield good wheat. But while everyone is sleeping after their work, an enemy sows weeds among the wheat and steals away.

These seeds share the same good soil, which yields both wheat and darnel, a weed that looks like wheat. If a worker tried to weed out the darnel, how could he possibly tell it from the wheat? In any case, the roots are intertwined, and the uproot the darnel would uproot the wheat too.

At harvest time, the roots of the weeds have intertwined with those of the wheat. Only then can they be separated, with the wheat going into the barn, and the weeds into the fire.

Christ offers two interpretations of the parable to his disciples.

In his first explanation (verses 37-39), Christ explains what each of the figures and events in the story stands for. The kingdom begins now, when Christ, the Son of Man, sows the seed, drawing people to him. However, the Devil tries to subvert his efforts. The harvest is when Christ comes again, at the end of the age.

In his second explanation (verses 40-43a), Christ says that at the end of the age, evil will be separated out, judged and burned up or destroyed. The evildoers face misery and punishment, symbolised as they weep and gnash their teeth. The righteous, who are faithful to God, will be gathered together and shine like the sun in the kingdom of God.

Finally, in verse 43b, we are told that the Gospel is open to all who listen to Christ.

‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field’ (Matthew 13: 24) … fields near Bunratty, Co Clare (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Reflecting on the Gospel reading:

In this Gospel reading, Christ speaks by the lake first to the crowd, telling them the parable of the wheat and the weeds (verse 24-30). The word that we have traditionally translated as tares or weeds (verses 25, 26, 27, 29, 30, 36, 38, 40) is the Greek word ζιζάνια (zizánia), a type of wild rice grass, although Saint Matthew is probably referring to a type of darnel or noxious weed. It looks like wheat until the plants mature and the ears open, and the seeds are a strong soporific poison.

Christ then withdraws into a house, and has a private conversation with the Disciples (verses 36-43), in which he explains he is the sower (verse 37), the good seed is not the Word, but the Children of the Kingdom (verse 38), the weeds are the ‘Children of the Evil One’ (verse 38), and the field is the world (verse 38).

The harvest is not gathered by the disciples or the children of the kingdom, but by angels sent by the Son of Man (verses 39, 41).

It is an apocalyptic image, describing poetically and dramatically a future cataclysm, and not an image to describe what should be happening today.

It is imagery that draws on the apocalyptic images in the Book of Daniel, where the three young men who are faithful to God are tried in the fires of the furnace, yet come out alive, stronger and firmer in their faith (see Daniel 3: 1-10).

The slaves or δοῦλοι (douloi), the people who want to separate the darnel from the wheat (verse 27-28), are the disciples: Saint Paul introduces himself in his letters with phrases like Παῦλος δοῦλος Χριστοῦ Ἰησοῦ (Paul, a doulos or slave, or servant of Jesus Christ), (see Romans 1: 1, Philippians 1: 1, Titus 1: 1), and the same word is used by James (see James 1: 1), Peter (see II Peter 1: 1) and Jude (see Jude 1), to introduce themselves in their letters.

In the Book of Revelation, this word is used to describe the Disciples and the Church (see Revelation 1: 1; 22: 3).

In other words, the Apostolic writers see themselves as slaves in the field, working at Christ’s command in the world.

This is one of eight parables about the last judgment that are found only in Saint Matthew’s Gospel, and six of the seven New Testament uses of the phrase ‘weeping and gnashing of teeth’ (ὁ κλαυθμὸς καὶ ὁ βρυγμὸς τῶν ὀδόντων) occur in this Gospel (Matthew 8: 12; 13: 42; 13: 50; 22: 13; 24: 51; and 25: 30; see also Luke 13: 28).

When it comes to explaining the parable to the disciples in the second part of our reading (verses 36-43), the references to the slaves in the first part (verses 27-28) are no longer there. It is not that the slaves have disappeared – Christ is speaking directly to those who would want to uproot the tares but who would find themselves uprooting the wheat too.

The weeding of the field is God’s job, not ours. The reapers, not the slaves, will gather in both the weeds and the wheat, the weeds first and then the wheat (verse 30).

Farmers are baling the hay and taking in the harvest in many places already. In a few weeks’ time, many farmers will be seen burning off the stubble on their fields to prepare the soil for autumn sowing and the planting of new crops. In this sense, the farmer understands burning as purification and preparation – it is not as harsh as city dwellers think.

It is not for us to decide who is in and who is out in Christ’s field, in the kingdom of God. That is Christ’s task alone.

Christ gently cautions the Disciples against rash decisions about who is in and who is out.

Gently, he lets them see that the tares are not damaging the growth of the wheat, they just grow alongside it and amidst it.

But so often we decide to assume God’s role. We do it constantly in society, and we do it constantly in the Church, deciding who should be in and who should be out.

The harvest comes at the end of time, not now, and I should not hasten it even if the reapers seem to tarry.

The weeds we identify and want to uproot may turn out to be wheat, what we presume to be wheat because it looks like us may turn out to be weeds.

We assume the role of the reapers every time we decide we would be better off without someone in our society or in the Church because we disagree with them about issues like sexuality, women bishops and priests, and other issues that we mistake for core values.

The core values, as Christ himself explains, again and again, are loving God and loving others.

It is not without good reason that the Patristic writers warn that schism is worse than heresy (see Saint John Chrysostom, Patrologia Græca, vol. lxii, col. 87, On Ephesians, Homily 11, §5). We do not need to demythologise this morning’s reading. Christ leaves that to the future. This morning we are called to grow and not to worry about the tares. That growth must always emphasise love first.

When governments and security forces have said they are rooting out violent jihadists from society, the average, gentle, ordinary Muslim has suffered grossly. When some members of the Church have sought to ‘out’ or ‘throw out’ people because of their sexuality they have caused immense personal tragedy for individuals and their families and friends – weeping and gnashing of teeth indeed.

How painful it is that recent wars waged in the name of democracy and freedom have eventually violated the basic concepts of human rights and dignity. In recent decades, across the word, we have seen murdered innocent children murdered while playing on a beach, innocent women and children murdered in their homes, in hospitals, in schools and at weddings.

When I want a Church or society that looks like me, I eventually end up living on a desert island or as a member of a sect of one – and there I might just find out too how unhappy I am with myself!

But if I allow myself to grow in faith and trust and love with others, I may, I just may, to my surprise, find that they too are wheat rather than weeds, and they may discover the same about me.

Wheat growing in a field in Donabate in Fingal, north Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Matthew 13: 24-30, 36-43 (NRSVA):

24 He [Jesus] put before them another parable: ‘The kingdom of heaven may be compared to someone who sowed good seed in his field; 25 but while everybody was asleep, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat, and then went away. 26 So when the plants came up and bore grain, then the weeds appeared as well. 27 And the slaves of the householder came and said to him, “Master, did you not sow good seed in your field? Where, then, did these weeds come from?” 28 He answered, “An enemy has done this.” The slaves said to him, “Then do you want us to go and gather them?” 29 But he replied, “No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them. 30 Let both of them grow together until the harvest; and at harvest time I will tell the reapers, Collect the weeds first and bind them in bundles to be burned, but gather the wheat into my barn”.’

36 Then he left the crowds and went into the house. And his disciples approached him, saying, ‘Explain to us the parable of the weeds of the field.’ 37 He answered, ‘The one who sows the good seed is the Son of Man; 38 the field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom; the weeds are the children of the evil one, 39 and the enemy who sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the age, and the reapers are angels. 40 Just as the weeds are collected and burned up with fire, so will it be at the end of the age. 41 The Son of Man will send his angels, and they will collect out of his kingdom all causes of sin and all evildoers, 42 and they will throw them into the furnace of fire, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. 43 Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!’

‘The field is the world, and the good seed are the children of the kingdom’ (Matthew 13: 38) … fields of green and gold north of Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2019)

Liturgical Resources:

Liturgical Colour: Green (Year A, Ordinary Time).

The Collect:

Merciful God,
you have prepared for those who love you
such good things as pass our understanding:
Pour into our hearts such love toward you
that we, loving you above all things,
may obtain your promises,
which exceed all that we can desire;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Collect of the Word:

Saving God,
in Jesus Christ you opened for us
a new and living way into your presence:
give us pure hearts and constant wills
to worship you in spirit and in truth;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

God of our pilgrimage,
you have led us to the living water.
Refresh and sustain us
as we go forward on our journey,
in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Jacob’s Ladder and Jacob’s dream … a fresco in a monastery on Mount Athos

Suggested Hymns:

Genesis 28: 10-19a:

561, Beneath the cross of Jesus
562, Blessèd assurance, Jesus is mine
330, God is here! As we his people
331, God reveals his presence
67, God who made the earth and heaven
336, Jesus, where’er thy people meet
656, Nearer, my God, to thee
657, O God of Bethel, by whose hand

Psalm 139: 1-11, 23-24:

51, Awake, my soul, and with the sun
647, Guide me, O thou great Jehovah
579, I want to walk as a child of the light
226, It is a thing most wonderful
195, Lord, the light of your love is shining
71, Saviour, again to thy dear name we raise
19, There is no moment of my life

Wisdom 12: 13, 16-19:

560, Alone with none but thee, my God
668, God is our fortress and our rock

Isaiah 44: 6-8:

2, Faithful one, so unchanging
381, God has spoken – by his prophets
668, God is our fortress and our rock
557, Rock of ages, left for me

Psalm 86: 11-17:

349, Fill thou my life, O Lord my God
382, Help us, O Lord, to learn

Romans 8: 12-25:

558, Abba Father, let me be
501, Christ is the world’s true light
295, Come, gracious Spirit, heavenly Dove
48, God in his love for us lent us this planet
523, Help us to help each other, Lord
301, Let every Christian pray
654, Light of the lonely pilgrim’s heart
49, Lord, bring the day to pass
619, Lord, teach us how to pray aright
387, Thanks to God, whose Word was spoken
285, The head that once was crowned with thorns

Matthew 13: 24-30, 36-43:

378, Almighty God, your word is cast
37, Come, ye thankful people, come
649, Happy are they, they that love God
95, Jesu, priceless treasure

An empty barn on my grandmother’s former farm near Cappoquin, Co Waterford (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The hymns suggestions are provided in Sing to the Word (2000), edited by Bishop Edward Darling. The hymn numbers refer to the Church of Ireland’s Church Hymnal (5th edition, Oxford: OUP, 2000)

Material from the Book of Common Prayer is copyright © 2004, Representative Body of the Church of Ireland.

A large barn at Comberford Manor Farm in Staffordshire (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Readings, hymns and sermon ideas for Sunday 8 July 2018, Sixth Sunday after Trinity

‘He … began to send them out two by two’ (Mark 6: 7) … two walkers on the beach in Ballybunion, Co Kerry, at the end of the day (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday next, 8 July 2018, is the Sixth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VI).

The appointed readings in the Revised Common Lectionary for Trinity VI as adapted for use in the Church of Ireland are:

Continuous readings: II Samuel 5: 1-5, 9-10 Psalm 48; II Corinthians 12: 2-10; Mark 6: 1-13.

Paired readings: Ezekiel 2: 1-5; Psalm 123; II Corinthians 12: 2-10; Mark 6: 1-13.

There is a link to the continuous readings HERE

When I set out on journeys, too often I take too much with me (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Introduction:

I am at the High Leigh Conference Centre near Hoddesdon in Hertfordshire this week [2 to 4 July 2018] for the annual conference of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel).

The combination of ‘being sent’ and ‘being dependent’ is a mission theme that I expect to hear much about this week. But it is also a strong Biblical theme that is clearly expressed in next Sunday’s readings.

In these readings, we are challenged is to see how being sent by God is always being in service and as being part of the ‘Sent Community.’

In addition, as we are sent we are called to trust both in God and in those from whom we receive resources and support for our work. This applies, of course, not just to bishops and priests, but to all who seek to follow Christ and live as citizens of God’s Kingdom.

What do you take with you on a journey? What are the essential items to pack in your case, whether it’s a small bag for overhead cabin for a Ryanair flight and a short overnight stay, or a large suitcase for a two-week summer holiday.

Apart from my passport, the requisite toothbrush, plastic cards, phone chargers, presents for hosts and friends, and changes of clothes and sandals, I always need to take my laptop and more than enough reading: books, magazines and newspapers.

And I always regret that I have packed too much – not because I do not use all those clothes or read each and every one of those books, but because I find there is not enough room for all the books I want to take back with me, and because restrictions on overhead bags mean I cannot return with a bottle of local wine.

In next Sunday’s Gospel reading (Mark 6: 1-13), as the disciples prepare for their journey, we might expect them to take with them an extra wineskin, an extra tunic, an extra pair of sandals, some water, some spending money. But Christ tells the disciples, as he sends them out in mission, two-by-two, to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money, no spare shoes, no change of tunic.

Perhaps the disciples set out filled with doubts and uncertainty, full of fear and anxiety rather than with full suitcases.

But what the disciples would soon learn is that for the people they would encounter along the way, it was not food or money or clothes that they needed most. What those people needed most was healing. And so, Christ requires the disciples to give what is the hardest thing in the world for us to give: the hardest thing to give is ourselves.

Sometimes, the moments when we put aside the comforts of home and step into uncertainty and risk are moments when we find we are closest to God.

Perhaps this Gospel reading is challenging me us to ask myself: What baggage have I been dragging along with me on my journey of faith, in my journey in ministry, in my journey in mission? And have I been carrying this baggage around not because I need it, but because I am comfortable with it? What unnecessary junk am I still carrying around me in life that I ought to have left behind long ago?

Maybe, I should be planning to take up my walking stick, dust off my sandals and set off on that journey into God’s abundance.

Looking at the Readings:

II Samuel 5:1-5, 9-10:

The people of Israel join the people of Judah in making David their king, and so David becomes king over the entire nation. Then David establishes his throne in Jerusalem.

David has settled at Hebron (see II Samuel 2: 3). He is publicly anointed to rule over Judah by the council of tribal heads. Meanwhile, in the north, Abner, once Saul’s military commander, makes Ishbaal, Saul’s son, the puppet king over the northern tribes (see 2: 8).

The rival tribal coalitions each plan to annex Gibeon, north-west of Jerusalem. When they go to war, David’s troops win. Abner, recognising a lost cause, switches to David’s side (see 3: 1-10), but he is killed (see 3: 22-29). Ishbaal’s courage fails and he is murdered by two of his own, who are then killed on David’s orders, for killing a righteous man” (see 4: 11). David shows Abner and Ishbaal his respect when he has them buried at Hebron.

There is no acceptable successor to Saul, and the tribes of Israel (verse 1) the north, invite David to become their king too. He is an Israelite and has been an army commander under Saul (verse 2). The council of the north or elders of Israel (verse 3), anoint him king over them too. In this way, the two states, Israel and Judah, are united with one king.

David now conquers a city belonging to neither state, and he makes the Canaanite or Jebusite city a neutral capital. Jerusalem becomes the city of David (verse 9). David is seen to have increased in power with the help of God, the God who is common to the people of the north and the south.

Ezekiel 2:1-5:

God commissions Ezekiel to be a prophet to the Israelites and to proclaim to them that although they are hard-hearted and rebellious, and whether they listen or not, they will know that a prophet has been among them.

Psalm 48:

This is a psalm in praise of Jerusalem’s glory which overwhelms even enemy kings who come against it, since the city is protected by God. God’s praise extends to the ends of the earth. The psalm celebrates the beauty and security of Jerusalem, where God is to be praised. Jerusalem is a joy to pilgrims who consider God’s gift of love when worshipping in the Temple.

Psalm 123:

This Psalm is a prayer for God’s mercy after the mockery and shame that the proud have brought on God’s people, and it is a commitment to be attentive to God, as servants are attentive to their masters and mistresses.

What did Saint Paul mean by his ‘thorn … in the flesh’ … a symbolic Crown of Thorns on a cross at the gate of Saint George’s Monastery in the mountains near Vamos in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

II Corinthians 12: 2-10:

The Apostle Paul refuses to boast in anything except his weaknesses, since God has given him a ‘thorn in his side’ to keep him from being conceited, and so he celebrates that in his weaknesses God’s strength is made perfect.

Saint Paul continues to rebut his critics. In the previous chapter, he has defended his Jewish heritage and his achievements. But he has refused to boast, and declared: ‘If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness’ (11: 30).

Now, in humility, he speaks as though someone else had a vision: ‘a person in Christ.’ It really did happen, 14 years ago, and it was a mysterious and mystical experience that is indescribable.

Was his ‘thorn … in the flesh’ (verse 7) that keeps Saint Paul from ‘being too elated’ a chronic condition, a physical or mental disability, a recurring illness, or strong opposition from one or more people?

Whatever it is, this affliction will not be removed, for the power of God is more apparent when it works through a sufferer. He accepts his condition, as it is, ‘for the sake of Christ,’ for when he feels weak, he is showing God’s power most effectively and so shows himself to be a true apostle.

‘He ordered them … to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics’ (Mark 6: 8-9) (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Mark 6: 1-13:

This Gospel reading comes in two parts. Christ preaches in his home town, but the people reject him because they know him, and cannot honour him. He then sends the Twelve out in pairs, two-by-two, with no resources, to preach. They go out to proclaim Christ’s message, to heal, and to cast out demons.

Saint Mark has told us of Christ’s success with the crowds. They have listened to the word expressed in parables; they have seen him heal the sick. He has commissioned and instructed the Twelve, showing them that he has power over nature, sickness and even death. Now Christ leaves the place where he has healed the woman and the daughter of Jairus, and he comes to his hometown in Galilee, with those who trust in him.

But his reception in the synagogue is different from that he received earlier in the Gospel (see Mark 1: 21-28). The people now question who he is. They ask how a mere carpenter can be so wise. None of it adds up, they take offence at him, and they reject him. The word σκάνδαλον (skandalon), translated in verse 3 as offence, also means a stumbling block or the trigger of a trap.

After his rejection in his hometown, Christ moves out into the rural areas. He then sends out the Twelve in mission, to minister, to extend the proclamation of the Kingdom of God in word and deed.

The disciples become apostles – the word apostle means one who is sent, and the Twelve are sent out in pairs, two-by-two.

Their mission and their need to trust in God are so important that they are to subordinate their material and physical concerns to the task of preaching and healing, as Christ does. They are not to spend time seeking better accommodation, nor are they to waste time with those who refuse to listen. They are move on, perhaps just like Jesus has moved on from his hometown, from those who refused to listen.

Reflecting on the theme:

Two complementary ideas come together in a challenging way in these Lectionary readings, the idea of being sent by God, and the idea of being dependent on God.

Firstly, the importance of being sent for God’s people is reflected in David’s appointment as king over both Israel and Judah, in Ezekiel’s call to be a prophet, in Saint Paul’s ministry, and then, in our Gospel reading, both in Christ’s work in his home town and his sending of the Twelve to preach and demonstrate God’s Reign.

Secondly, this sending is always in dependence on God. Ezekiel is called and God promises to show that he is a prophet, whether or not the people listen to him. David’s journey, which the Lectionary has been following over the last few weeks, reveals how much he depended on God in gaining the throne. Saint Paul recognises that God’s strength is made perfect in his weakness, and so he refuses to boast in anything except his dependence on God.

In a similar way, Psalm 123 reveals dependence on God for mercy.

Finally, Christ sends his disciples out, as he has been sent, with no real resources, but ready to rely on the hospitality of others for their basic needs, and depending on God for the power to fulfil their ministry.

We are challenged to embrace the call of God, and go out as servants of Christ in dependence on God’s resources, God’s strength, to sustain us.

There is no shortage of work to be done in the world today. The issues of justice are many and diverse and require people of passion, commitment and with a sense of being ‘called’ or being ‘sent.’

But, for justice to become a reality in the world, in our country, in our communities, there must be a sense in which all the individual initiatives connect and form part of a larger whole. It is not just individuals who are sent out into the world, but groups and communities. As we work together, each with our own particular gifts or focus, that we can make a significant difference.

It is all too easy for us as priests or readers to begin to rely on our own wisdom, abilities, and charisma to do the work we have been called to do. But without team work we run the risks of being arrogant, controlling, abusive, rigid and closed to the ideas of others.

We need to accept that any calling comes only as part of a called community. We are always sent as individuals because of our connection with, and our place in, a ‘sent community.’

It is also true that we are always sent to serve, and this requires both trust in God’s message and mission, and the humility to be vulnerable to those to whom we seek to minister.

The resources we most depend on in ministry and in mission are our own, but are gifts we receive from God, and from others who are ‘called’ too to resource God’s work. In this way, ministry becomes an act of community-building and of mutual service and faith. And, when we begin to live and serve like this, we begin to experience life as God intended it, we begin to catch glimpses of the Kingdom of God.

‘On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue’ (Mark 6: 2) (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Mark 6: 1-13 (NRSV):

1 He left that place and came to his home town, and his disciples followed him. 2 On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. They said, ‘Where did this man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been given to him? What deeds of power are being done by his hands! 3 Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary and brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon, and are not his sisters here with us?’ And they took offence at him. 4 Then Jesus said to them, ‘Prophets are not without honour, except in their home town, and among their own kin, and in their own house.’ 5 And he could do no deed of power there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and cured them. 6 And he was amazed at their unbelief.

Then he went about among the villages teaching. 7 He called the twelve and began to send them out two by two, and gave them authority over the unclean spirits. 8 He ordered them to take nothing for their journey except a staff; no bread, no bag, no money in their belts; 9 but to wear sandals and not to put on two tunics. 10 He said to them, ‘Wherever you enter a house, stay there until you leave the place. 11 If any place will not welcome you and they refuse to hear you, as you leave, shake off the dust that is on your feet as a testimony against them.’ 12 So they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. 13 They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.

Liturgical resources:

Liturgical colour: Green.

The Collect:

Merciful God,
you have prepared for those who love you
such good things as pass our understanding:
Pour into our hearts such love toward you
that we, loving you above all things,
may obtain your promises,
which exceed all that we can desire;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Post-Communion Prayer:

God of our pilgrimage,
you have led us to the living water.
Refresh and sustain us
as we go forward on our journey,
in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord.

‘God of our pilgrimage, you have led us to the living water’ … Torc Waterfall in Killarney, Co Kerry (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Suggested Hymns:

The hymns suggested for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity in Sing to the Word (2000), edited by Bishop Edward Darling, include:

II Samuel 5: 1-5, 9-10:

12, God is our strength and refuge
529, Thy hand, O God, has guided

Psalm 48:

646, Glorious things of thee are spoken
380, God has spoken to his people, alleluia
354, Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise
593, O Jesus, I have promised

Ezekiel 2: 1-5:

381, God has spoken – by his prophets
387, Thanks to God, whose Word was spoken

Psalm 123:

696, God, we praise you! God, we bless you!
208, Hearken, O Lord, have mercy upon us
145, You servants of the Lord

II Corinthians 12: 2-10:

645, Father, hear the prayer we offer
352, Give thanks with a grateful heart
594, O Lord of creation, to you be all praise
387, Thanks to God, whose Word was spoken

Mark 6: 1-13:

454, Forth in the peace of Christ we go
483, Jesus went to worship
618, Lord of all hopefulness, Lord of all joy
197, Songs of thankfulness and praise

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of Churches of Christ in the USA, and are used by permission. All rights reserved.

‘They … anointed with oil many who were sick’ (Mark 6: 13) … chrism oils on Maundy Thursday (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)