Fourth Sunday after Trinity
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Readings: Jeremiah 28: 5-9 and Matthew 10: 40-end
The prophet Hananiah makes a very brief appearance in the pages of the Old Testament. We don’t hear of him until the first verse of Jeremiah chapter 28, and by the end of the chapter he is dead, having succumbed to the prediction of Jeremiah that he would die because he had made the people believe in a lie. The story of Hananiah is very relevant in an age when we hear so many promises and predictions by politicians and others. ‘Just fancy that’ is a column in Private Eye where the editors feature a statement by a politician or other public figure, which is completely the opposite of what they said a year before, or whatever it might be.
The context of the Hananiah story is the destruction of the Jewish state by the Babylonians in 586 BC, and the removal of the people into exile in Babylon. Hananiah claimed to have received a word from the Lord that the yoke of the king of Babylon would be broken, and that the vessels taken from the Temple would be returned, and that within two years all the exiles would also be returned. But Jeremiah had a harsher word from the Lord, that this restoration of nation and people would not come quickly. Just after today’s verses, Jeremiah says to Hananiah, ‘The Lord has not sent you, and you made this people trust in a lie. Within this year you will be dead, because you have spoken rebellion against the Lord.’ And so it proved.
Politicians, of course, like to say things that people want to hear. And I don’t mean to be unkind specially to politicians. I’m sure we all are encouraged to say things that people want to hear, whether it’s to agree with another’s opinion, or to give hope to somebody who is seriously ill. It is sometimes very hard to say uncomfortable things. Last Wednesday was the feast of St. John the Baptist, and I heard a prayer that day ‘for people who speak the truth that others don’t want to hear.’
It is, of course, easy to say the things that people want to hear, especially when it is likely to cheer them up. If they like the message, they will like the messenger. But the Christian prophetic tradition is about discerning and speaking God’s word, regardless of how it will be received. People who speak in this way are often uncomfortable to be around, because they are likely to challenge the status quo. Hearing and accepting the truth often means that a change of lifestyle or direction will be required. Only the truth, be it challenging or comforting, has the power to bring about the transformation that God requires.
Hananiah fell into the trap of wanting to promote a feel-good factor. He looked at all the anxious, stressed people, and wanted to help them. Who said that God wants us to be miserable? Jeremiah would undoubtedly much have preferred to be carrying Hananiah’s message of victory and peace, but unfortunately it didn’t happen to be true.
The Church can be equally susceptible to saying things people want to hear. We are, of course, very keen to get people into church or into our fellowship; we are not so good at telling home truths in God’s name. I would own up to being guilty of this approach sometimes. I remember back in one of my Kent parishes, we were discussing what our parish ‘mission statement’ might be; I think the diocese was urging us all to adopt some sort of slick form of words to go on church websites and noticeboards. Just the sort of directive that left me unimpressed! So at a PCC meeting we debated what might be included in our statement. One person not unnaturally suggested ‘All are welcome’. Incredibly, one member objected to this, saying that we would not welcome a murderer or a child abuser. We could have a very long debate about that, but I partly saw where he was coming from.
This weekend, up and down the country, men and women are being ordained into the sacred ministry of the Church. They need our prayers. Quite apart from what we might call the state of the Church of England, which causes despair to many people – not to me, incidentally – newly-ordained ministers will find a society so different in its practice and understanding of religion from the situation I found when I was ordained 38 years ago. To many in today’s society, the Church is irrelevant. God, even if they subscribe to this divine being, has little claim on their lives, and church-going a complete mystery. I was talking to a group of about twenty 9 year-olds around the font at Worcester cathedral. They were from a church primary school. I asked how many of them had been baptised or christened, stressing that it was the same ceremony. None of them said they definitely had, although a couple were unsure whether they had been baptised or not.
In the short gospel for today, Jesus is talking about rewards. It’s a slightly curious little passage. Jesus is just giving his disciples instruction as he sends them out on mission. We heard the preceding verses last week, where Jesus warns the twelve that it will be hard going. There will be opposition and maybe persecution. Today the twelve might experience apathy, mistrust or hostility.
Jesus instructed the disciples to take nothing with them, but to be reliant on people’s hospitality and generosity. He promises that those who receive them will not go unrewarded. But, as Christopher Woods points out, it is not attractive to contemplate reward in the framework of religious faith. But we may be misunderstanding what Jesus means by ‘reward’. We think of the word as indicating a prize or financial benefit for having achieved a task that has demanded effort. But this is not the meaning of the Greek word for ‘reward’ used here. In this context, reward is fundamentally the fulfilling of the promise of God, the keeping of his covenant with his people and the manifestation of his mercy and kindness.
So here, Jesus is affirming that minimal hospitality, generosity and compassion on our part helps the growth of God’s kingdom. We should be heartened that even the little we do to help others to see the faintest of glimpses of God in a sometimes dark world is a fruitful sign of that kingdom of love and peace.
And what about the last verse? Jesus makes special mention of ‘these little ones.’ There is something particularly important in showing kindness or support to ‘these little ones.’ No-one knows for sure who Jesus had in mind. He may have been referring to children, or to young disciples in the faith, or to people nobody else took much notice of.
The reward is to know that there will be an outcome of goodness for the worthy things we do. Indeed, I’m sure we’ve all beamed inside when we know some act of goodness or generosity has really helped somebody or made a difference to their lives. We need no further reward. And if you’re doing that partly because you have taken the Christian message to heart and have found that kind of goodness or generosity within the Church fellowship, then the Church of England, or any other denomination, has not had its day.
So I leave you with the prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Jesuits in the 16th-century:
Teach me, O Lord, to serve thee as thou deservest; to give and not to count the cost; to fight and not to heed the wounds; to toil and not to seek for rest; to labour and not to ask for any reward, save that of knowing that we do thy will. Amen.