Third Sunday in Ordinary Time (C) : Homily / Sermon

He sent me to bring the good news to the poor ... (Luke 4:18)

What is News?

Many years ago and an old chap told me how he, as a child, had heard the news of the end of the First World War - they didn’t get the news on the 11th November, via a telephone message to the house of the Squire, but almost a week later, via a telegraph to the local railway station.

No hourly news bulletins, or rolling news in those days!
When we think about "news" perhaps we think of something which is instant: votes live from parliament or earthquakes and tsunamis from the other side of the world - these are instantly before us.

But actually, the most important thing about news isn’t
So perhaps its a bit of a surprise that they had "news" in the ancient world. No papers, no radio or tv or internet, no mobile phones, no iPads - how could it be?

But let's go back to what “News" actually is.
Because news can be so instant, we generally think news is something which has just happened.

The way we get new these days has changed greatly - because of the technology around us. It is or can be indeed instant, if that is what we want. But the technology also means that we tend not to consume news (just receive it) but choose news - to select the news we want - not just the subjects we want, but that attitudes we prefer to. This was always true to a certain extent, but now it has come to shape the news itself. And this has given rise to what is called “fake” news - stories which are false, but which are designed to attract, excite, and even titilate.

So, Often the things which make the news - things which amaze or annoy us - happened well in the past: scandals about things which took place decades ago and have only just come to light, comments posted on the internet by famous people when they were much younger, crimes which were not solved at the time, but which now, many years later, are coming under scrutiny because of DNA and other techniques. And it is not only these big and serious matters which become news long after they occurred - films, music, literature is often “rediscovered” sometimes long after their creators had died. People who were virtually unknown in their lifetime are now celebrated for their significance - like Alan Turing, the mathematician, for example, or Matthew Flinders, the man who gave Australia its name, whose grave was recently discovered in London.

So - News often isn’t actually new at all, but is something which provokes a reaction - an event, a happening, a change. It is something out of the ordinary, beyond the run of the mill, which departs from the usual, which disrupts the routine. It excites our emotions, moves our hearts, stirs us with anticipation. The reactions it produces might be positive or negative. It might make us weep; it might foster hateful or lustful thoughts and feelings; that is news. But if it leaves us cold and disinterested and unmoved, then it is not news.

So It is not its immediacy which makes it News, but its ability to provoke. And even old news, is still news, if it can continue to create a reaction. And the story of Christ is news beyond news.

At the birth of Christ, the angels cry Lo! Behold! and the shepherds rush from the fields to Bethlehem.
Herod hears the news of the birth of the child and reacts with fear and anger.
John the Baptist tells his followers - Behold the Lamb of God, and they turn to Jesus.
In today's Gospel, Jesus proclaims the news of his coming in Nazareth, and the hearers are outraged.
And the apostles will tell the extraordinary news of his teaching and miracles, of his betrayal and his arrest, of his death and his resurrection, and people are inspired to join them and follow him, or arrest and imprison them.

This News, is Good News, the greatest news story ever. The scoop beyond all scoops. News that moves hearts -by word of mouth, by journeys and by letters, by speeches given in market places and in the courtrooms, by charity and by martyrdom.

And to our day, this is News which moves the heart and saves the soul.
Which is why we call it Good news!

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time (C) : Homily / Sermon

Do whatever he tells you. (John 2:5)

I recently finished reading a book called “Absolute Truth” by Peter James, which was apparently one of the best selling thrillers published at the end of last year. Without spoiling anything if you read it in the future, I can tell you that it is about a journalist called Ross Hunter who is given, in a physical form, Absolute Truth of the existence of God. The thriller aspect of the story is possession of these proofs makes him the target of, on the one hand, a fraudulent, but highly successful evangelical pastor, and on the other hand, a wealthy group of atheists. Both are prepared to kill to prevent publication of the evidence. If you like thrillers and murder mysteries, as I do, then it is a pretty good story, and well told.

However, I am not telling you this by way of recommendation. I found it more interesting, and to be honest less satisfying, in its consideration of what Absolute Proof might actually mean. Could an object, any object, prove the existence of God? Indeed, Ross Hunter himself enquires into this question, and in the book a bishop tells him quite bluntly, “proof is the enemy of faith”. In other words, if something is self evidently true, then there is nothing to believe in, nothing to commit to, nothing to trust and nothing to hope. No one died for the believing that 2+2=4.

And somewhat reluctantly, this bishop puts forward that the Absolute Truth, would have to be something no one could possibly question, something which breaks the Laws of Nature itself.

Today’s Gospel might seem to provide a kind of proof. Here is Jesus’ first miracle, the turning of the water into wine, a public demonstration of his divinity. It could be seen to be - at the very outset - a proof, an absolute proof, of the existence of God.

But is it? I wonder. Some aspects of the story don’t seem to fit.

Firstly, this “proof” is done in secret. Only his mother, and some of the servants, know what has happened. The steward is amazed, not because the water had turned into wine, but because they had served the best wine last, which flew in the face of common sense, and normal practice.
It might be a miracle, and his first miracle, but surely snort a proof - hardly anyone is left impressed by Jesus’ power and his divinity. It a quiet and secret matter.

And secondly, far from transcending nature, this is a story with is filled with humour and is a keen observation of the most ordinary human nature.

For example, there are lots of words in this conversation left unsaid.
Mary doesn’t actually ask Jesus to do anything - but he knows what she expects.
Jesus protests about something she has not even asked, and she knows that he will do what is needed.
And the steward, the hired master of ceremonies, remarks on the inebriation and merriment of the guests, and thinks of the expense of the finer things of life, rather than doing any musing on the presense of a mystery.
And of course, this occasion is not a sermon on a mount, nor a healing by a lakeside, but a wedding, a party, the coming together of the unnamed couple, who perhaps in this represent all humanity, celebrating in a very worldly and practical way, the wonders of human companionship and love, and the fellowship of the family.

So silently, secretly, almost invisibly, Jesus blesses this conviviality, drawing no attention to himself, but instead, as the word made flesh, dwelling amongst us, he fills our ordinary human lives with his grace and his glory.

It is a “proof” of sorts - but not a proof which goes against nature - but a proof which blesses and perfects it.