Category Archives: sermon

Sunday 29/10/17 – Hospitality – Matt 22:34-46 by Craig

It’s been a tough time for Jesus. Today’s Gospel reading is one of the final disputes between him and the religious leaders, their attempts to entrap him into uttering blasphemy, and sealing his own fate.
This is a pattern in the Gospel that we’ve followed over the past few Sundays: from the beginning of Chapter 19, as he leaves Galilee for Jerusalem, he has been almost constantly quizzed and hounded by the Pharisees and Sadducees, the two main parties in the Jewish religious hierarchy.

This tension rises sharply after Jesus’ outrageous entry into Jerusalem riding on a Donkey, with all the prophetic implications that raised. If you read from the beginning of Chapter 19 to today’s reading in one sitting, you will sense the momentum of Jesus’ destiny.

The Pharisees had a very legalistic take on God’s commandments. Over the centuries, the original ten had burgeoned into 613. No wonder the ordinary Jew found it almost impossible to find God: there were too many rules, too many hurdles to jump, with the Pharisees in their self-appointed role as guardians of the faith; God’s policemen, always looking to trip them up.

So, this encounter between Jesus and the Pharisees is a fitting end to the legal wrangling, arguments, and ‘catch-him-out’ questions that have been going on. Jesus distils the commandments of God into two. The 613 rules are now redundant. When pressed by a lawyer ‘which commandment in the Law is the greatest?’ Jesus replies with two:

‘The first is this: love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind….And a second is like it: you shall love your neighbour as yourself.’

First; and second. I don’t believe that you can observe one of those commandments without the other. They are held together in an intricate and live-giving tension. We can all ‘know’ our neighbours, but the challenging thing is that loving them takes loving God wholeheartedly.

Without that we can never see them through the eyes of God, or with the mind of Christ. That makes me feel very uncomfortable. Some ‘neighbours’ that I encounter on a daily basis (and that’s not just the people who live next door) sometimes try my patience: how can I love them as I love me?

Yet I feel it is right for us to dwell on that phrase ‘you shall love your neighbour as yourself’ and just ask the question: how can we do that?

You may recall my Ministry Team letter in the last edition of the Parish Magazine, where I wrote about the Christian tenet of ‘hospitality’, especially our experience of it when we first came to St George’s (11 months ago!). It was wonderful! Up until then, our experience of hospitality in a church usually involved ‘fitting in’, which the outspoken me has never been comfortable with!
If you read it, you will also know that I am an ‘Oblate’ (Lay Member) in the Benedictine community at Alton Abbey. Hospitality is a central tenet of the Benedictine way of life. In chapter 53 of his Rule, St Benedict urges the Monk to ‘welcome the stranger as if Christ himself were present, for in them, Christ himself comes.’ Strangers are our neighbours too.

Hospitality in the Monastery is manifested in the warmth of welcome, sustenance, love, care, and space underpinned by the cycle of worship, work, and prayer. We found all those things when we first came to this church. Jesus and Benedict seem to be saying similar things, and whilst we perhaps find it relatively painless to do within our church community, how can loving our neighbours as ourselves work out in our Parish?

Our first natural thoughts are likely to be: ‘what can we do? What action can we take? What ideas, and events will demonstrate that we love them as much as we love ourselves, and welcome them as if welcoming Christ himself?’ We’re culturally conditioned from birth to be ‘busy’, to ‘do stuff’, it’s just how we are. And I must say that there is nothing much wrong with offering tangible and practical things to our village.

But – through activity, we can often squeeze out opportunity, and become unavailable to the neighbour, the stranger who calls. I’m dreadful: ‘Hello, welcome to our church…. here’s a bundle of leaflets, this is what goes on…. sorry I’ve got do such and such, can’t stop to chat’. And I’m gone. What have I missed; more importantly, what has my neighbour lost out?

In the monastery, it’s different – apart from the usual daily cycle of worship, work, and prayer, there is no programmed activity. Space is intentionally left for those who call in for a chat, a pray, and so on.

The perfect environment to simply ‘be’.

That would never work in our Parish of course, so I’m not suggesting that we open St George’s Abbey! But I do think that we ought to ask: are we really available to our neighbours?

Folk in this village, and beyond, are longing for a break from the relentless pressure to be something, to be seen to live up to certain standards. Working all hours. Keeping up with the bills. Driving the children here and there to this and that activity. Time poor, no opportunity to simply be.

How can we be more available? Being available rather than doing ‘stuff’ – I have no simple answer. One example of hospitable availability is the Christmas Midnight Mass. Starting it at say 10pm might make it convenient for some of us, but what about the once-a-year visitor who longs for a glimpse of something beyond the Christmas drudge? They turn up at 11.30pm, and the church, and its people are unavailable….

So what’s my cunning plan? I don’t have one – as such. The hospitality I speak of can only come through the discipline of prayer, meditating and mulling over scripture, and regularly receive the Eucharist. All these things are our food for the journey. Things that will help us to love the Lord our God with every thing and faculty that we have.

At the end of John’s Gospel is the story of the Disciples out fishing one night. The events leading up to Jesus’ death had crushed them, heads and hearts spinning from the relentless pressure: emotional, physical, spiritual… Since his resurrection, he had appeared…and disappeared. God must have seemed strangely absent, just as the fish were too.

They spot Jesus after he gives them a clue where to cast their nets. He’s cooking breakfast. When they came ashore, they simply received his hospitality – he had made himself available. He fed them. Chatted. In that space and in that fellowship, they got a glimpse of something beyond, a new sense of purpose, and really knowing that they are truly loved.

Our neighbours are desperate for this intimate encounter with the mystery of God. So, here’s the plan – let’s consciously deepen our love and devotion for the Lord our God, with all our hearts, with all our soul, and with all our minds.

Let’s come to communion with a deep sense of longing for a renewed sense of loving our neighbours.

Loving them through the eyes of Jesus, in which our neighbour can get a glimpse of glory, and find ointment for their sore and hurting souls

Stella’s Inclusive Church Sermon

I’m going to talk both generally and personally about inclusivity today – generally because there are some general principles and personally because we all perceive our lives and faith through our own, personal eyes.

So, to start personally, about 18 months ago I had not heard of Inclusive Church. I then came across an ‘Inclusive Church’ day being held at a church near Basingstoke and included it in a news bulletin for another diocese for whom I had recently started working. There was a complaint and the reason lay in the Inclusive Church statement of belief. “We believe in Inclusive Church – church which does not discriminate, on any level, on grounds of economic power, gender, mental health, physical ability, race or sexuality. We believe in Church which welcomes and serves all people in the name of Jesus Christ; which is scripturally faithful; which seeks to proclaim the Gospel afresh for each generation; and which, in the power of the Holy Spirit, allows all people to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Jesus Christ.”

The complaint went to the powers that be and it was upheld. No mention of Inclusive Church please. The reason was the mention of sexuality.

I felt I needed to find out more and look more deeply into what Inclusive Church did and that is one of the reasons why this sermon series has taken place and why we are thinking of joining Inclusive Church. We had Dianna Gwilliams, Dean of Guildford Cathedral and chair of trustees of Inclusive Church, to speak in the parish last month and she said that Inclusive Church encourages churches to look at who isn’t coming to the church and why. Is it because they are going elsewhere? That’s fine. We don’t want to take people from other churches. Is it because the signs are difficult to read if you have learning difficulties, is it because you are concerned that your children are too noisy, is it because you are worried you can’t put money into the collection plate, is it because you don’t feel welcome because of who you are?

Early in the series, Lesley challenged us at St Mark’s to think about times when we had felt excluded. We got into groups and I started talking about a group of people whom I knew from the local school who didn’t really want to come to church because of what I perceived to be social and economic reasons and how could we overcome this. A bit later I realised that I was talking about ‘them and us’, rather than about ‘us’. My very language – and attitude – was being exclusive. After all, we are all the body of Christ. It’s not a case of ‘us’ being a body and ‘them’ being another body. We are the body.

There are a series of books about the different groups that Inclusive Church is trying to be open to and in one of them – about poverty – it is suggested that just as if one part of your body is hurting you do not go ‘oh poor you’ but you give a yelp of pain, so if one part of the body of Christ is hurting then the whole body is affected.

So, if anyone is excluded whether unwittingly or – at times – deliberately, then the whole church is hurt. And I am not getting far with inclusion if I say ‘them’ rather than ‘us’.

So, what do we do?

We talk, we share, we listen. Again, in the book on poverty there was an example of a project – called ‘Listen Up’ – which had people acting as both interviewers and interviewees, so that they really shared and heard each other which helped everyone see things from other people’s perspectives, helped them do what Atticus Finch said in To Kill a Mockingbird: ‘You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view… Until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”

In doing this we will learn, we will be vulnerable and we will make mistakes. But we can acknowledge mistakes and move on. We can share more of our humanity if we are vulnerable.

So again, I am going to share something personal. My elder son is gay. That’s fine – and he gave me permission to speak about this, in fact saying that he wants people to know as much homophobia comes, he believes, from hiding when someone does not define themselves as straight.

He has felt, I believe, welcome in this parish, but he told me last week that he knows few gay people who wouldn’t come to church because of the prejudice, because of the damaging experiences they have had. He said that church, on the whole, does not feel like a safe place for a gay person and that having a safe space – a place where you can be yourself without fear – is vital.

What? Even in this parish? Aren’t we inclusive? Probably more so on some issues but not on others. I was really upset by the idea that many LGBT+ people would not want to come into a church, however inclusive it might be trying to be, because of past history. Maybe I should have known that. I wasn’t seeing the world through my son’s eyes, walking in his skin. What else don’t I realise? Who else feels like this? We can’t all know. I, for instance, don’t know a lot about disability or issues raised by ethnicity. I speak from my own pretty privileged background. I can only ask, we can only ask, and share and be prepared to be vulnerable. It may mean that others come forward and speak from their own experience, or feel able to come into the church, make their voices heard, become leaders.

And we will get it wrong. I may be getting some of this wrong. But I, we, will learn.

The other thing is that we can ask for forgiveness and ask for grace – God’s grace. Because this is the difference. What I have been saying in many ways could apply to a secular organisation but there is a difference. As the Inclusive Church statement of belief says: “We believe in Church which welcomes and serves all people in the name of Jesus Christ” – and Jesus Christ in his time on earth broke down barriers, was inclusive, welcomed the outsider, never cared what someone’s status was, never asked if Peter was educated or from a privileged economic background before telling him to ‘build my church’, never asked about sexuality –  and, the statement continues  believes in a church which, in the power of the Holy Spirit, allows all people to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Jesus Christ.”

These things can be done in the power of the Holy Spirit. It takes us being open and determined – conduits of the Holy Spirit.

Stella Wiseman



Lesley Shatwell’s Inclusive Church Sermon

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away there was a church.  A nice, pretty church, St Exaltus The Great in the nice pretty village of Higher Exclusive.  Look, the parishioners are gathering for their Sunday morning service.  The surrounding lanes are chock-a-block as every neat and nice family wants to show off their expensive car on a Sunday morning.

But what’s this?  How unpleasant!  What a dreadful sight!  They have to walk past a beggar (with his dirty dog on an old piece of string) who is sitting in the church gateway.  How dare he, the cheek of it.  “Don’t worry,” reassures Mr We’ll-have-none-of-that, the churchwarden, “I’ve called the police – they will move him along.”

Inside St Exaltus The Great, everyone is singing sweetly, “All things bright and beautiful … The rich man in his castle the poor man at the gate, God made them high and lowly, each one to their estate …”

But what’s this commotion at the door?  Who’s that trying to get in?  She’s upsetting Mrs Keep-that-child-quiet and Mrs Don’t-sit-there of the Welcoming Committee – well there’s a turn up for the books!  A big black woman trying to get into St Exaltus The Great!  Here in Higher Exclusive!  We don’t see those sort of people in this village.  Some of the stronger men step forward, we can’t have her disrupting our service, she’s got rainbow coloured hair, for goodness sake!

“Let me in!  I know I am a sinner but I want to praise God for making me as I am, I want to come to God, I am a child of God!”

“She’s as mad as a hatter!  Got no business upsetting The Welcoming Committee.  Look at her in that shoddy, flimsy dress – she looks like a street-walker.”

“Wait a minute …” Mrs Nosey-parker is looking more carefully at the woman, “ … I know that one.  You’d never guess that her real name is STANLEY!  Yes, she was a boy when she was born.”

That’s too much for Gloria as she is now, not Stanley any more.  She runs from the church in tears.

“Now vicar, where were we … oh I know, let’s share the peace.”


The next week, all the lanes are blocked with the posh cars, there’s no beggar in the gate and no sign of the dog, just a uniformed local bobby greeting the parishioners as they arrive.  All seems well.  But there is a stranger in church.  A smartly dressed, elderly woman sitting quietly praying near the back of the church.  Mrs Get-everyone-on-the-rota has already spotted her:  she looks like she might be good at flower arranging.  The choir sings and the vicar walks in, “Good morning and welcome one and all!”

“There was no welcome for my son last week was there.”  What’s this?  The smartly dressed old lady is walking down the aisle toward the vicar.  She turns at the chancel step to face the congregation.  “Yes, my son who was sitting with his dog at the church gate.  You all pushed past him.”

“Come on, sit down now, don’t cause a scene, we want to get on with the service, we’ll talk about it afterwards …”

But the old lady was having none of it.  “What about my daughter Gloria?  You were very cruel to her.  How do you think she felt?”

The people looked at the little old lady, clean, neat and white – how could she be the mother of the tramp at the gate and the woman who was born a man and black?  Mrs Don’t -sit-there was already regretting that she had given the woman a hymn book.  The vicar stepped forward, he knew his scripture, “’Will you steal and murder, commit adultery and perjury, burn incense to Baal and follow other gods you have not known, and then come and stand before me in this house, which bears my Name, and say, “We are safe”—safe to do all these detestable things?’  Jeremiah 7:9-10”


The woman smiled, “Who are the ones needing our Lord’s forgiveness and mercy?  Do you remember in our reading today when the woman begs Jesus to heal her daughter and she will not take no for the final answer?  I have come to your church today to remind you that all are welcome in God’s house … even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.  And we are all human beings: ‘there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.’  Just because these people are not like you, they think differently, they dress differently, they have less money than you, they may do outrageous things and scare you … are they any less the children of our same heavenly father?”


Let’s close the window onto St Exaltus The Great and come back to St Mark’s here today.


I would be ashamed to call myself Christian if I went to a church like St Exaltus The Great.  This is God’s house and we are only passing through.  Everyone is passing through and everyone is equally as entitled to be here as we are.  We are the current custodians of our church in this community and we have the God-given task to extend God’s welcome to all.

I love St Mark’s precisely because we don’t have The Welcoming Committee of Mrs Don’t-sit-there and Mrs Keep-that-child-quiet.


Finally, let me remind you of the words we speak at each baptism:  “There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism: by one Spirit we are all baptized into one body.  We welcome you into the fellowship of faith; we are children of the same heavenly Father; we welcome you.”

And let us pray that all find welcome in our church today and always.

Wendy’s sermon on Inclusive Church

SERMON -ST. JOHN’S – Sunday 6th August 2017- preaching on Inclusive Church (on sexuality)
Isaiah 55.1-5, Romans 9:1-5, Matthew 14.13-21
May I speak in the name of the living God who is and was and is to come? Amen.
In December 1990, aged 33, I attended a Christmas dinner dance with my husband, Steve. I was happy with the new dress I wore. That Saturday night I felt especially feminine. I felt very much part of the fun and conviviality of this special dinner.
Steve’s company had paid for an artist to do ink drawings of us all. His drawings were in cartoon style. The picture he drew of me showed my nose, mouth and chin much larger than they really are but he captured my smile and character.

The cartoon artist exaggerated certain aspects about my physical appearance but minimized others so that my shoulders appeared much smaller than they should have been for the size of my head. This was so he could fit my shoulders into the picture.
I now ask you to fit yourself into the picture which Saint Matthew draws for us of the Feeding of the 5,000. Transport yourself back almost 2,000 years. Where in the crowd do you think you’d be sitting? Who might you be with?

Imagine yourself sitting on the grass with all sorts of different people, Jewish and non- Jewish. Traders, merchants, stonecutters, masons, sculptors, craftsmen and fishermen, weavers, stone carriers, non-Jewish slaves, men and women, children, lepers (standing a little apart from the others), the blind, mentally ill and disabled people. What a wonderful mix of humanity.

It had been an incredible day when hundreds of people had been healed but now very ordinary needs were requiring attention. Everyone was hungry and the nearest village was a long way away.

In a matter of fact way, Jesus took the 5 loaves and 2 fishes, looked up to heaven, gave thanks, broke the food and gave it to the disciples and then they gave it to the crowd. We are assured that all not only ate but all were filled and there were 12 baskets of left- overs. God more than supplied their need.

Most scholars believe that more than 5,000 people were fed but only the men were counted. Women and children had a low status in the society of the time but Jesus includes them in this miraculous dinner. I wonder who else might have been included? Might there have been some people with a different sexuality in that crowd? I think it is possible.

I read recently that approximately 1 in every 1,500 births are of people with dual sexual characteristics and some people are of indeterminate sex. Can you imagine how difficult it must be to be one of those people? They cannot even tick the male or female box on a form.

I would suggest that in such a large crowd that evening you would have found some lesbian and gay people and possibly some people whose sex was uncertain, in addition to the heterosexual men, women and children. All ate and were filled. Jesus left no-one out.

You may wonder why I am speculating like this. It is because the PCC has recently debated whether we should join Inclusive Church. A decision has not yet been made but Lesley and Alan have asked those who preach to preach about inclusivity as a way of seeking the opinion of the congregation. We have not been told what to preach. As individual preachers, with our own opinions and life experiences, we pray, as always, for the guidance of the Holy Spirit in what we preach, also in how the congregation hears and receives what we say.

The statement of belief of Inclusive Church is as follows :-
‘We believe in inclusive Church – church which does not discriminate, on any level, on grounds of economic power, gender, mental health, physical ability, race or sexuality. We believe in Church which welcomes and serves all people in the name of Jesus Christ; which is scripturally faithful; which seeks to proclaim the Gospel afresh for each generation; and which, in the power of the Holy Spirit, allows all people to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Jesus Christ.’

Each of us is preaching on a subject of interest to us. I chose sexuality because it is the one which often causes the biggest difference of opinion. For the record, I am a heterosexual woman married to a heterosexual man but Steve and I have had homosexual friends of both sexes, some of whom have died of AIDS. I have one friend whose daughter had a sex change operation to become a man.

Now some of you may have particularly heard those words ‘scripturally faithful’ in that statement of belief. Perhaps you thought of the Old Testament book of Leviticus 18.22, warning that a man should be put to death for having sex with another man. However, I would risk a bet that no-one today avoids wearing clothes of mixed fibres which is a grave offence according to Leviticus 19.19. We must ask ourselves whether these ancient prohibitions, set at a very different time in history and culture, have relevance today. Some do but many do not. If we applied them all, how would they hamper outreach and mission?

Back to the Gospel reading. Remember the first sentence of the Gospel reading today. ‘Now when Jesus heard this he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place by himself.’ The word ‘this’ refers to the death of John the Baptist. The crowd, desperate for healing, did not even allow Jesus time to grieve. Perhaps keeping busy was what he needed and boy, did he keep busy!

Somehow John’s death is a catalyst giving a 1,000-volt injection to Jesus’ ministry in this miracle which, for me, sends out the biggest example of his new commandment to ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind (in the thankful lifting, blessing, breaking and massive distribution of miraculously increased quantities of food) and to love your neighbour as yourself (in the feeding of all present, regardless of who they were). There is no other commandment greater than these.

Our Old Testament reading today also speaks to me of inclusivity. Isaiah, sounding like a market trader shouting out a bargain ‘Come all you who are thirsty… you will delight in the richest of fare’.

Should we deny people who are different to us the rich fare we receive here at the Holy Table and the benefits our faith gives us? Have we given a thought to the rich fare which these new people might bring to us and to this church?

Our Romans reading chimes with me also. It gives me sorrow and anguish when we cut off from Christ any human being who seeks him.

If it is decided that we will join Inclusive Church, it is very unlikely that we will have a rush of new people arriving but I would hope that, if we join, when we receive Holy Communion, we will be happy to have a transvestite man wearing a new dress in which he feels feminine, kneeling beside us at the altar rail, happy to share a coffee and fellowship with any lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or intersex human being who may bless us by choosing to worship with us.

At that 1990 dinner dance the cartoon artist exaggerated parts of my face.

In the church in 2017, I believe we need to try hard not to exaggerate the sexual lives of people whose sexuality is different to ours. It is just one part of their lives as it is of ours and maybe not such a significant part. It is all too easy to focus exclusively on others’ sexuality as if there was nothing else to them at all. They are children of God like us with gifts and talents, hopes and dreams, joys and fears.

Jesus said of the loaves and fishes, ‘Bring them here to me’. I say, of those with a different sexuality, ‘Bring them here to us that they may eat and be filled’. Amen.