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“ … and this is my solemn vow”

  Marriage Liturgy 2006

Today’s celebrations are linked  by one of those words I have just read from the Scottish Marriage Liturgy. The link is the word ‘Vow’ and the action it implies.

Today, A and G will affirm the vows they made to each other at their wedding 20 years ago. Yesterday the King vowed to serve his people as sovereign for the rest of his life. Vows and the making of vows are important.

A vow is something most of us will make of our own accord and of our own free will; vows of commitment to a loved one; or to the service of God in Baptism and Ordination or like Charles to the Commonwealth as head of state. We choose to make these vows, we don’t have to do so. Charles could have refused the throne (it has happened before), A and G did not have to marry and pledge themselves to each other; I did not have to make vows at my ordination; we all chose to do so and it is that choosing that makes them special.

If we do not have to make a vow, why do we do so? From my own experience I think the answer has something to do with commitment. By making a vow and especially a vow in the sight of God, one is pledging to do one’s best  be it as priest, monarch or spouse in the rôle to which one feels called. It is never easy living up to the commitment one may have pledged oneself to, but the fact that one has vowed to try to do so can be an encouragement. It sort of acts as a check and balance, a touchstone helping one to keep on an even path and to carry on when things get tough.

There have been times as a priest when I have felt like chucking it all in; any married couple will have gone though similar times and the King will no doubt wonder quite what he said yes to as well. It is those vows we make that help us to go on and they can also help us to recognise when we need to end something as well. For a vow should be something that is life affirming to ourselves just as it might be affirming to others to whom the vow is made. Monarch’s may abdicate if they feel the rôle has become too much for them to exercise effectively; marriages may end if the relationship is no longer viable and priests retire from paid posts and responsibilities (some never to function as a clergy person again).

When we make a vow we do so with the intention that it will be for life or for as long as it is deemed to be right and good to try and live up to that vow. When we end a vow be it by death, abdication, divorce or retirement or whatever it does not mean that we have failed but that we have recognised that then original vow no longer holds true to what we felt called to or to be.

This Sunday, however, we are celebrating vows made recently and in the past and praying for their renewal and furtherance over the years to come. I hope when you lift a glass after this service that you’ll raise a toast to all who have made vows for whatever reason, that God will  bless them and keep them always.

Have you ever wondered why our church’s dedication is to the Good Shepherd, rather than just the Church of the Shepherd? The Psalmist felt no need to qualify the title in that way.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…”

The obvious answer to my question is that our dedication is based on one of the seven “I am” statements in St John’s Gospel.

“I am the Good Shepherd”.

And today’s Gospel contains another of the “I am” statements:

“I am the gate for the sheep”

St John portrays Jesus as a man with a mastery of metaphors who offered a rich and varied range of them, each providing an insight into his nature and therefore the nature of God. In that sense he was a supreme poet and, intriguingly, our word “poet” has a common ancestry with the classical Greek word for shepherd and that common ancestor’s original meaning was “maker” – a truth reflected in the fact that our national poet in Scotland, Kathleen Jamie, has the title Makar.

The metaphor of the Good Shepherd is a particularly striking one. Shepherds in that time and place were generally considered to be a rough and unreliable lot, living on the margins of society. That’s what makes the angels’ proclamation of the birth of Jesus to the shepherds in St Luke’s Gospel so striking. When people thought about shepherds in those days, the adjective “good” didn’t always spring to mind. But the main reason that Jesus chose it was to make the point that not all those who claim leadership are good. The previous chapter in John’s Gospel illustrates that. The Pharisees have criticised Jesus for restoring the sight of a blind man on the sabbath, interrogated the man who was healed and then expelled him from the community for saying of Jesus:

“If this man were not from God, he could do nothing”.

In identifying himself as the Good Shepherd, Jesus is not only and perhaps not mainly making a point about morality, for the Greek word that is translated as Good also means beautiful. William Temple daringly but accurately translated this saying as:

“I am the shepherd, the beautiful one.”

This is a beauty which is both compelling and costly, for the Good Shepherd, the beautiful poet, the bonnie makar

“…lays down his life for the sheep”.

And that’s the key to discerning the character of our politicians, of those in our culture who clamour for our attention or insist that we adopt certain points of view. Are they doing this from self-giving, creative love like the Good Shepherd or are they motivated by the desire for power, whether it’s the power that comes from elected office or the power that is exercised by shaming individuals or groups with whom they disagree?

It is also, of course, the key to discerning and reshaping our own motives, to reflecting on what shapes our attitudes and actions. And this is where that other I am statement, “I am the gate for the sheep” becomes so important. The gate is a way in, a way into church, a way into the safe and congenial company of the like-minded, of people whose values and ideals we share. It is also the way out into the world and that is where we spend most of our time and where, whether we are in paid work or not, we do much the same things as our non-believing contemporaries, including cleaning, cooking, shopping, walking the dog and watching television. We do much the same things but because we’re the sheep who go out into the world through the gate that is Jesus, we are called to do them in different ways, for different reasons and in a different spirit.

That’s a point that one of our greatest shepherds of words, George Herbert, made very clearly in verses that have become well-known because they have found their way into many hymn books. The poem is called The Elixir and an elixir is a powerful medicine. It begins:

“Teach me, my God and King

In all things thee to see

And what I do in anything

To do it as for thee.”

There’s a second verse which didn’t make it into the hymn books, partly because it wouldn’t easily fit any musical metre but also because the language is rather obscure. It begins with words which clearly suggest sheep rushing through the gate of a sheepfold:

“Not rudely as a beast

To run into action…”

And then, in archaic language, suggests that our actions should be informed by our knowledge of God in Jesus Christ.

“But still to make Thee prepossest

And give it his perfection.”

The meaning becomes clearer as the poem develops and Herbert suggests that all our actions can and should be done for the sake of God.

“A servant with this clause

Makes drudgery divine:

Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws,

Makes that and the action fine.”

If Christ is the gate through whom we move into the weekday world, we will bring to that world something of which it is in dire need – the self-giving love of the Good Shepherd to whom this church is dedicated and to whom we seek to dedicate our lives.

He is not here for he has been raised, as he said. Come and see the place where he lay (Matthew 28: 6)

If I was to ask you when were you last afraid, what you would say? Would you feel able to share that or would you hide behind a mask for fear of what others thought? This may include going to the dentist knowing that an injection is required; attending an annual appraisal at work with an overbearing or intimidating boss or having to go and see someone who has suffered a life changing event and being uncertain what to say or do.

Did you notice in our gospel reading the major drama? There was a great earthquake; an angel of the Lord descending from heaven; fear among the guards who shook and became like dead men. Remember what the angel said to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary.  “Do not be afraid, I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay”.

Not only did the angel tell them not to be afraid but as they were running to tell the disciples, Jesus suddenly meets them and also tells them “Do not be afraid, go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, there they will see me”.

I recently had an MRI scan in hospital. I was rather anxious. What put my mind partly at rest were two unexpected things. The first was that I bumped into a friend in the waiting area. She was going for a scan too. We were able to chat.  I did not feel alone. The second was that the young radiographer re-assured me that she would not leave the scanning room until she knew that I was entirely happy.

Belief in the resurrection of Jesus is based upon two claims; that the tomb was found empty and that his followers experienced his living presence. These two considerations do not of themselves prove that Jesus was raised from the dead. Only you can decide by weighing up what you hear, read, experience and share with others. On the other hand there is the undeniable fact that a small group of broken men and some women who had fled most of them going back to Galilee where they came from, experienced something that not only turned their lives around but impelled most of them to give their lives to share the good news with others.

Pope Francis invites “all Christians, everywhere, at this very moment, to a renewed personal encounter with Jesus Christ, or at least an openness to letting him encounter them”. He continues “I ask all of you to do this unfailingly each day. No one should think that this invitation is not meant for him or her, since no one is excluded from the joy brought by the Lord. The Lord does not disappoint those who take this risk; whenever we take a step towards Jesus, we come to realise that he is already there, waiting for us with open arms”.

Whether we are feeling anxious, overwhelmed, doubtful or just perplexed, may we hear again those powerful words “Do not be afraid. He is not here for he has been raised as he said” and take them into our hearts and daily lives.

Even for me, Jesus did not fear to die.

To me, he gives courage.

For Him I fear nothing, not even death.

When I have Jesus in my heart, I fear no more.

Gospel     Matthew 26:14-25

14 Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests ¹⁵and said, ‘What will you give me if I betray him to you?’ They paid him thirty pieces of silver. ¹⁶And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him.17 On the first day of Unleavened Bread the disciples came to Jesus, saying, ‘Where do you want us to make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?’ ¹⁸He said, ‘Go into the city to a certain man, and say to him, “The Teacher says, My time is near; I will keep the Passover at your house with my disciples.” ’ ¹⁹So the disciples did as Jesus had directed them, and they prepared the Passover meal. 20 When it was evening, he took his place with the twelve; ²¹and while they were eating, he said, ‘Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me.’ ²²And they became greatly distressed and began to say to him one after another, ‘Surely not I, Lord?’ ²³He answered, ‘The one who has dipped his hand into the bowl with me will betray me. ²⁴The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that one not to have been born.’ ²⁵Judas, who betrayed him, said, ‘Surely not I, Rabbi?’ He replied, ‘You have said so.’

‘Surely not I, Lord?’ You can almost hear the insincerity and smarmy-ness in those words of Judas. Words used to cover his guilt. A guilt that would continue to grow until it overwhelmed him and destroyed him. Betrayal is often wrought by those closest to us. Someone we thought we knew well does something that destroys a relationship. Often, we cannot for the life of us, work out why they did it and I wonder if at times the betrayer also wonders what came over them that led them into betrayal. Betrayal is so often a sad story and one in which neither side benefits from the act.

So it is in this story - a betrayal that led two men to their deaths. In a previous Edinburgh Passion Play this betrayal was explored from the point of view of two mothers. An encounter occurred between Mary and the mother of Judas, after Good Friday. Neither mother was able to fathom why their son was dead.

Why betrayal happens is sometimes never known but in this story the betrayal had to happen in order for Jesus to save us from ourselves and to give us hope in his resurrection. Only in hindsight, though is this apparent. At the time Judas’ betrayal was raw and self-seeking and all destructive of whom it touched. Yet without it we would have no Easter message of hope and a life without hope is no life to contemplate. For our salvation the price was a betrayal and a death on the Cross!

Jesus was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved (John 11: 33)

In the early stages of his life, Rembrandt (1606-69) produced grandiose paintings full of flamboyance. After a period of great anguish, including deaths in his immediate family, and imprisonment for debt, his style changed, showing great sensitivity to human suffering. Many of his numerous paintings on biblical themes, including “Christ Healing and Preaching” (c.1648) reflect this humanity and openness to human pain.

We cannot but be deeply moved and even disturbed in spirit when we see someone in pain and anguish – let alone when a tear is shed.  There is something that touches our hearts and reminds us of our frailty, our vulnerability and even our mortality.

Our gospel reading about the raising of Lazarus, recalls that when Jesus saw Mary weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. As Jesus sees Mary and her comforters crying, the reality of what has happened hits him.

The Greek word which the Authorised Version and Revised Standard Version translate as “deeply moved” in spirit comes from the verb “embrimasthai”.  It is used three other times in the New Testament.  It means to feel something deeply and strongly. It has a certain sternness, almost anger in it.  E V Rieu translates it as “Jesus gave way to such a distress of spirit as made his body tremble”.

The theologian, Jane Williams, comments that “Even though Jesus knows that he is the resurrection and the life, the tears and the loss affect him. This is one of those extraordinary moments when we see into the heart of the paradoxical things Christianity says about God. Jesus is here to demonstrate God’s absolute power of life over death, and yet he reacts as we all do to a life cut short, to the desolation of losing someone we love and sharing the pain of others who mourn him too”.

The compassion Jesus showed in his ministry is nothing less than a revelation of the compassion God shows for each of us.  In him the very heart of God is open and available in human terms. His first followers did not see this immediately but in the light of his resurrection, his earthly life and death were understood to have an eternal significance. It was not only a human life lived for others, but a disclosure of the divine life he lived for the world.

Tom Wright, the former Bishop of Durham and biblical scholar, comments that “when we look at Jesus, not least when we look at Jesus in tears, we are seeing not just a flesh and blood human being but the Word made flesh (John 1:1-14). The Word, through whom the worlds were made, weeps at the grave of his friend. Only when we stop and ponder this will we fully understand this mystery. Only when we put away our high-and-dry pictures of who God is and replace them with pictures in which the Word who is God can cry with the world’s crying will we discover what the word “God” really means”.

As we continue our Lenten journey through into Passiontide and beyond, may we all be aware of that same love and compassion which Jesus had for his friend Lazarus and his beloved sisters, Mary and Martha.

Jesus, you know our needs even before we speak.

We bring them into your healing presence.

Make us sensitive to the needs of others so that we may bring

That same healing presence and power into their lives.