Topic: Notice

Sponsored Quarter Peal

We are ringing the last Quarter Peal on the bells before re-refurbishment on Bank Holiday Monday 27th August, at the start of the Shipton Church Fete, at 12noon with Shipton ringers and friends. We would welcome any sponsors for this event to help us raise the final funds required.

Please ask Mike Brooks for details on how you can sponsor this [email protected]

Sermon for Ninth Sunday after Trinity – Adrian Gell

Sermon

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer.

Last Sunday, my sermon dealt with the passage from St Mark’s Gospel – a passage split either side of St Mark’s version of what we have read in today’s Gospel reading from St John.

Interestingly, the story of the feeding of the Five Thousand has particular weight in that it is only one of TWO miracles recorded in all four Gospels – the only other being Jesus’ Resurrection.

I have often wondered about the meaning of this miracle.  But researching what lies behind it for my sermons of last week and tonight, I have discovered things which to me have made the answer so much plainer.

Not only can we read into this as Jesus posing his oft used question “… but who do THEY say that I am …?” but we find a possible answer amongst the story.

The crowd has gathered in their thousands to watch Jesus – but is he a Magician, or a King, or a fraudster, or something more?  They come to see and watch and learn, to listen  – and in many a case, to be cured.

As outsiders to the incident, we have the privilege of getting the “before and after” of the event.  We hear what else Jesus has to add.

For example we know that twelve baskets were gathered at the end.  Twelve baskets or the Twelve Tribes of Israel?

The Twelve Tribes in Jewish life were all that mattered to them; they were the world.  But we know that Jesus could use this image whilst at the same time refer to the whole of humankind – including not only the Jews but also the Gentiles, and in the future counting amongst them YOU and ME.  We are all there – gathered in Jesus’ baskets to learn the new way forward – no-one in Gods Creation is excluded.

As for the loaves and fishes – in my sermon last week I touched on the fact that these were the spiritual carbs and spiritual proteins in our lives.

Carbohydrates and proteins are vital ingredients in any balanced diet that keep us healthy as we live through our existence.

A mother’s milk – as even modern medics prescribe – is so important in the early stages of a newborn infant’s life.  Added within the compound are not just the carbs and proteins but also the vitamins, minerals and antibodies, so that the whole offers that baby an immunity – and everything it needs to nurture it and help it grow and survive those first few months before it begins to take solids.

And so there are the crowds surrounding Jesus on that day; many of whom are spiritually lost, in their infancy, and as Jesus describes them “as being sheep without a shepherd”.  They are in dire need of their first taste of that milk.

He offers them the spiritual carbs and the spiritual proteins, and He, Himself, through his actions and teachings, is also the spiritual vitamins, minerals and antibodies that form that divine diet – without which we remain lost and unfulfilled.

As with a newborn puppy, as it fumbles for its mother’s teat, we too can fumble at first.  But when we find and latch on to the metaphorical breast proffered by God through His Son, Jesus, our life begins again with new nutrients that we had previously chosen to ignore.

We find a new self-honesty within; we can rid ourselves of our pride and arrogance; we relieve ourselves of the need to do down; instead we discover a new inner self; one of trust, appreciation, love and kindliness.

This is the importance of The Feeding of the Five Thousand.

So when asked by Jesus, “Who do they say that I am?”, we can all answer, with one voice and in accordance with Peter,

“You are the giver of Life: YOU ARE THE MESSIAH”.

Amen.

29.07.18

Trinity 9 (Year B)

Sermon for Ninth Sunday after Trinity – Revd Dr Elizabeth Koepping

Sermon

Ninth Sunday after Trinity.

Readings: 2 Kings, 4, 42-end. Psalm 145 10-19. Ephesians 3, 14-end. John 6, 1-21

Some of us may have bright memories of filling in Sunday School pictures of the miracle of five loaves and two fishes feeding everyone, with twelve baskets to spare. And indeed the five thousand men together with the many uncounted women and children would have been glad to be fed, for they have trailed after Jesus up hill and down dale. Both these facts are important:  no one should starve if any person has the capacity to provide food, and Jesus’s action was indeed a miracle. Even if Jesus or his various followers could have found the thousands Philip estimated they’d need to feed all those people, there were no bakers, no flour, no ovens.

But this story isn’t just about the important social justice of sharing food, and the miraculous power of Jesus, though it is both of those things. What is Jesus telling us which is so important that all four gospel writers describe it in the only description of a miracle common to the four? In part it is the giving and sharing of bread, the staff of temporal and eternal life. You may have missed the Gospel reference to Jesus’ party coming from the eastern to the western side of the lake of Galilee- but it was significant, because those coming from the eastern side would have included more Gentiles- Greeks, Phoenicians, Samaritans. The crowd was thus a mixed-up mass, a point to which I’ll return.

In our first reading, Elisha satisfied all whom he was teaching not only with his words, but with the big round loaves of the new harvest after the starving months when belts were tight. He did not do a miracle but, following the way of Moses, Elisha’s act illustrates today’s psalm, ‘The eyes of all look to you, Lord, and you give them food in due season.’ By the time we get to this story of God’s chosen people in 2 Kings, that first intimate relationship with God, exemplified by Moses in the Pentateuch, is wavering, faltering, even failing: Elisha  revives them body and soul with bread for body and mind.

Jesus, following that prophetic line, used this ‘feeding event’ as a crucial ‘showing’ of himself, God’s Son, to everyone there, whom he knew would be of mixed origin. It was thus a meticulously played-out demonstration not only of his relation to the prophets of old, especially the great Moses, but his relationship with, his being of, God. When those who had been fed saw the crumbs put into twelve baskets representing the twelve tribes, they didn’t say the obvious ‘goodness, what a lot is left,’ but: ‘this is indeed the prophet – the messiah- who is to come into the world.’ They realised that this man had new bread for a newly chosen multi-ethnic people whom he would lead, like a shepherd, as we heard last week, or like a mighty King of a splendid Kingdom.

Now Jesus knew from experience that however clear his miracle had been, the disciples, never mind the crowd, would not get it first time, even though in sharing God’s bread, they were all on the journey. And it was equally clear to him that if the crowds publically acclaimed him as the Messiah at that point, opposition would prevent him completing his work. Moreover, he rejected Kingship and all that entailed. He therefore withdrew from everyone, crowds and disciples alike, demonstrating the radical difference between Moses and himself, between the great Prophet and the Son of God. As his followers were rowing wearily home, he walked on the water, reiterating his source and status just to his closest followers as he underlined the difference between a Moses and God in human form.

Two points seem useful to think with. First, this and the next three weeks talk about bread, the lectionary makers wisely reckoning that we won’t get it first time. In taking the bread of God today, we shall acknowledge that we are fed by God’s love, communion being a sign of setting ourselves right in relation to God. But secondly, communion is also a sign of setting ourselves right in relation to our neighbour. Who is that?

The Church Times this week includes a report from Alabama on neighbours and strangers for Trump-following Christians.  ‘Love thy neighbour,’ one lady said, meant ‘love thy American neighbour’ and ‘if you do this to the least of these you do it to me,’ means ‘the least of these are Americans, not the ones crossing the border.’  Is such picking and choosing of neighbours done just there? Osbert Sitwell, in his autobiography, writes of the 1920s: ‘our nearest neighbours were more than ten miles away’ Really? Checking the map today, the family house of Renishaw was one mile on foot from the large village of Eckington: clearly ‘neighbours’ doesn’t mean people, but ‘people like us!’ Was that just then? After the 2016 Referendum, a child of eight in Chipping Norton was told by class-mates: ‘You’ll be sent away from here because you mum is from East Europe.’ That idea didn’t come from eight-year-old class-mates, but their parents. Over there, back then, and here and now: such dehumanising of God’s children flourishes.

Receiving God in our lives means being open to what God is doing and does in our lives and in the world- and that must disconcert and challenge. Have you seen the east window of St Martin in the Fields in London? A central milky diagonally-placed oval pushes into small neat plain-glass leaded oblongs, such as many here have in their windows, and the intruding cross-shape which results disrupts and distorts those neat panes. That must be what being fed with the bread of God means: challenge, discomfort, invigoration shaped by the gift of God in Christ.

 

Revd Dr Elizabeth Koepping

Idbury, July 29th 2018.

[email protected]

Sermon for Eighth Sunday after Trinity – Adrian Gell

Sermon

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be always acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our Strength and our Redeemer.

In the modern day life that we lead, I wonder how much real time we give over to ourselves – to assemble our thoughts, to ponder the day ahead (or just past), or just to collect ourselves, and work out what is worthwhile.

In the lesson from St Mark’s Gospel that we have read this morning, we find Jesus encouraging his disciples to do just that.  They have been out preaching and given little time to themselves.  So much so that Jesus recognizes how tired they are … they have hardly had time to eat even … and he encourages them to go somewhere quiet, go somewhere to get away from it all … and just be by themselves.

But of course, this reading comes immediately either side of the feeding of the five thousand – so there’s little chance of taking much rest – however deserted a place the disciples thought they had chosen.

What we have read also illustrates the rather frantic need of the people to gather round Jesus – especially those who our Saviour describes as being “sheep without a shepherd”.

Yes, we call ourselves Christians – followers of Jesus – but do we always follow the example we learn through His teachings?  Furthermore – do we take time out for ourselves, and our spiritual lives so we can assess our actions and our behaviour in a calm and peaceful setting?

Of course, here we are today, over the course of this sedate hour, gathered in Church in the tranquillity of our surroundings and the common presence of God and each other … (and that is commendable) … and we could wish that more of the population would give even the same amount of time to do likewise.

But how often during the rest of the week do we go to a tranquil place and deliberate over our spirituality and how best we can serve our Lord and our neighbour?

I trust that many of you will hold your hands up and say – “Yes, I do!”  But I confess that I am possibly one of the worst and am exorbitantly bad at it.  No sooner does my head lift off the pillow in the morning than my day begins in a frantic rush to complete the unfinished tasks of yesterday – long before I begin the jobs of the day – and before I know it my head is back on the pillow at night and I am fast asleep again (possibly with the light still on), eyes tight closed without having taken a second to thank God for the wonders of the day now ended.

In essence what I have done is carried out my life over the last 24 hours, hurrying to and fro to get various jobs complete that have been entered into my daily action book – without taking any time out to consider Life – with a capital “L”.  I, too, have become little more than a sheep without a shepherd.

The story today shows us how human Jesus was.  He encourages his disciples to take spiritual time out and to re-charge their batteries with food – but, knowing his time constraints and that he is well inside his short period of ministry, he continues apace Himself, spurred on by the huge crowds of those in need of His help and encouragement, those who recognise HIM so that they might be healed.

The image of His cloak, a garment that can be wrapped round many people for comfort and warmth is very strong.  It is also a cloak that when touched gives instant succour and healing to all those in need and who can believe in the power of the Christian message if given the will to trust.

As we sit here in Church, let us not forget the Cloak; the Cloak  which are the walls that surround us, the worship that encourages us, the prayer that calms us,   the hymns and music that inspire us, the spirit that makes us want to reach out – not just for ourselves but for others too.

But in order for us to grow, it is important to take the time out each and every day.  The orderliness in our lives can only be conserved – not by running round in our own brains like sheep – but by considering placing a full-stop every few hours to take spiritual stock of what we are up to; to begin the day with a moment of prayer and to end it likewise; and to take breaks during the day to do the same.

It is only in that way we can add the middle, missed out section of the Gospel reading today, and take on board the nourishment of both spiritual carbohydrate and spiritual protein; the loaves and the fishes if you like,  that will feed us so that we can calmly progress the day  in love and harmony with our neighbours and in appreciation of the great Creation in which we live and the Faith to which we espouse.

It is so important for us – a real necessity if you like – to do as Jesus asks his disciples – among whom we can now number ourselves.  A practise which we know – despite His own busy-ness – He will always find time for.

So in our daily lives, let us take time out on frequent occasion to take stock.  Through regular prayer and Christian contemplation we can adjust our lives to benefit others through our own example – and even help cast our own spiritual cloaks around the doubters that might easily hearten them to The Cause.

Oh, how seemingly easy it is to “talk the talk” … but for me, I know of the extra effort I need to put into place so that I can also “walk the walk” – and I would invite you all to join me as we journey along the path together.

Amen.

22.07.18

Trinity 8 (Year B)

 

 

Sermon from Fifield Patronal festival, June 24th 2018: Galatians 3 and Luke 1

Sermon

Fifield Patronal festival, June 24th 2018: Galatians 3 and Luke 1

Revd. Dr. Elizabeth Koepping

In 1999 I ran a course on Christian life in Burma/Myanmar for pastors, priests and ministers.  I based the ten full days on the understanding that Christian life means struggling to put into effect Galatians 3, 27-29: ‘If we live in Christ, then there is no difference between Jew and Gentile, male and female, slave and free.’ At the start, all participants said the churches had no problems other than shortage of money and government pressure, and certainly not with this passage.  We talked about relations to people of different cultural background – which here we could substitute English, Caribbean, French, South Asia- between males and females, and between rich and poor, life-educated or also book-educated. We agreed that as all are equal before God, all must be and feel equally treated by each Christian, although such love and justice goes against ‘normal’ everyday behaviour, and is a struggle for each church and congregation in the world Christian community. Asking half way through the course who didn’t talk at church meetings, they agreed that people from an ethnic minority didn’t talk, women didn’t talk, and poor people didn’t talk. So much for equality before fellow Christians, we realised, as we went on to discuss the role and limitations of church members, lay and ordained, in what is for us is a ’priesthood of all believers.’

I chose those verses, today’s Epistle, for that course because they are challenging to us all. How we manage says not only how we live as Christians, but how the non-Christian, or the uninterested Christian, sees church. That’s the proper basis for a patronal festival: how is the church seen in this community, how do all associated with it live, and how can we gain much-needed strength from John the Baptist collectively and individually to speak and live the Word of God, an obligation which won’t finish if you get a new vicar: you are the church.

I’m afraid John’s birth story isn’t enough – nor was that of Jesus. Stopping with birth stories, significant though they are for exemplifying faith and trust in God, diverts attention from life’s up and down processes. John was killed at the wish of Herodias the second wife of Herod Antipas: he’d divorced his first wife and married his willing and ambitious niece and sister in law, who unusually came with her young daughter Salome.  John refused to stay silent about this incestuous marriage of the powerful Herod, a man whom Jesus called a fox, not because he was cunning but because, like a fox, he caused damage just because he could. Herodias manipulated her weak and greedy husband, who had his much-respected friend the prophet John the Baptist killed and served up on a plate. Herod could have reneged on his promise to offer his step-daughter half his kingdom once he realised what Herodias was up to: but he chose to save his own face and sacrifice his friend John.

John is not the only murdered innocent man in the Bible. One was sacrificed because a weak provincial governor didn’t have the guts to offend the crowd and save another prophet, Jesus, from death: he too preferred to save his own face. There’s the earlier killing of the innocent Naboth, engineered by Jezebel to satisfy her husband Ahab’s lust for greed and status. And Uriah the husband of Bathsheba, whom David had killed not because Bathsheba had seduced him, but because he had taken her in a fashion which was as criminal then as now, and murder was easier than bigamy.

Herodias and Herod Antipas made choices which led to the wrong use of their step/daughter and the death of John: David made a choice which led to Uriah’s death; Jezebel and Ahab made choices which led to Naboth’s death: Pilate made a choice which led to Jesus’ death. Is each sinner equally responsible? If a person has enough food, permanent solid shelter, an income and family support and still, faced with temptation, chooses to sin, that person carries the burden of their free choice until they repent and cease such actions. But what of a hungry person who steals food to survive, or prostitutes themselves to get food and shelter for their child? What of a person who has a job after months of unemployment and poverty and keeps silent during their probation time if some superior insults a colleague or molests the newcomer? Relative powerlessness so constricts their freedom to act that compared with a similar act of a well-placed person, their sin is slight and their burden light. Salome was a young girl, manipulated and almost prostituted by her mother: despite pictures and stories to the contrary, she carries little guilt.

David, Herodias, Ahab, Herod Antipas, Pilate, all made free choices and carry full responsibility. As do we, not so much in murdering irritants, but in the everyday  flaunting of  Galatians 3 27-29, whenever we ignore, tread on or patronise poorer or less educated people, whenever we find ourselves rejecting those with a different accent, language, face or origin, or insult a person based on their gender and how live that out. Yes, there is a cost. Maybe our clique or family will sneer if we are welcoming and unfailingly courteous towards the strangers living among us, if we don’t join in abusive joking, if we take seriously the wisdom and goodness of a person rather than their education or posh cars.

John took his task of prophecy seriously, and he died unfairly. We too shall all die, but let us make as good job as we can of loving God, our neighbour and ourselves. In the words of today’s psalm, may steadfast love and faithfulness meet, and righteous and peace kiss each other in our lives, as in that of our patronal saint.

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New Vicar

New Vicar Announcement!

We are very pleased to announce that we have appointed a new vicar.
Rev’d Geoffrey Clement, who is currently Rector of the Two Rivers Benefice in the Diocese of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich, will be joining us in October.

His licensing will be on Wednesday 17th October, 7.30pm. More details to follow.