Archives for posts with tag: Pharaoh

Sermon for the First Sunday of Christmas, 28th December 2025, at Holy Nativity Church, Penarth

Isaiah 63.7-9

Hebrews 2.10-end

Matthew 2.13-end

Lessons: https://tinyurl.com/yrwdhazj 

One of the nice things that happen here is that when we say morning prayers at 9 o’clock most mornings at All Saints, Jimmy and I often pause and talk about what we’ve just been reading in the Bible. Some of these little excursions lead us down very interesting paths. Last week we were beginning to talk about Anselm’s Ontological Argument for the existence of God.

I said that perhaps I could work our thoughts into this sermon today; but in the nicest and gentlest possible way, Jimmy steered me away from that idea, because he said that everyone will be a bit sleepy after so much fun over Christmas and really all that is needed is a simple homily to assure everyone of God’s love and care for us through his son Jesus Christ.

Well obviously I’m a bit sad not to be able to bring ontology into it, but I have to admit that Jimmy may have a point. We need something more straightforward this morning; so the message is indeed that God shows his love for us, because he sent his only son Jesus Christ to take upon himself the burden of our sin and to show us the way to eternal life. 

That’s basically what we say when we say the Creed. The joy, for Christians like us, is that we are celebrating the birth of a baby who was Emmanuel, God with us. God in human form, simultaneously human and divine.

Our lessons today from the Bible give you various angles on that basic position. The prophecy in Isaiah celebrating all the gracious deeds of the Lord, all the things that he has done for his chosen people, the people of Israel, ‘according to the abundance of his steadfast love’, because he said, ‘Surely they are my people, children who will not deal falsely’. 

That is looking forward to the coming of the Messiah, who would be the saviour of the chosen people, if in no other way because the Jews at the time of Jesus were ruled by the Romans as part of the Roman Empire. One thing that they believed the Messiah would do would be to make them independent again. 

But as the letter to the Hebrews makes plain, this Messiah would suffer alongside the people whom he came to save. Unless he suffered in the same way they did, he couldn’t really be their Messiah, their saviour: 

‘Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil,…’ [Hebrews 2:14-15]

And then we had the story in Matthew of Jesus’ escape from the wrath of Herod and Herod’s ‘massacre of the innocents’, as it is called, which is a story which is not found in any of the other gospels, but is in Matthew’s maybe because Matthew thought that something had happened which was very similar to what had happened to Moses in his infancy – if you remember, the story of the baby in the bulrushes, because Pharaoh wanted to kill all the firstborn sons of the Hebrews, the story in Exodus [Ex. 1] in the Old Testament. Perhaps Matthew wanted to write Jesus up in the way he did in order to show that Jesus too was very special, in that he was in the same line as Moses. 

All those bits of our Bible passages are aimed at illustrating how Jesus was at the same time human and divine; he was described as the son of God. It’s very difficult literally to understand that, and even in the earliest times some of the early Christian fathers found it difficult to reconcile the idea that Jesus was God but at the same time that he was the son of God. 

But one thing that we can say for sure is that all these passages would have made very good sense to you if you were a Jewish person living in the first century, brought up on prophecies of the coming of the Messiah. 

But let’s fast forward to today. How much of what we’ve been reading about really makes sense to us today? In one sense we can say we are on the same page as the early Christians. We can say, in the words of the Nicene creed, which dates back to the fourth century, ‘We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth…’ but arguably that’s the only bit that we are reasonably sure of. If we believe in God, we do believe in the creator, the maker of heaven and earth. 

We do believe in Jesus, in the sense that it’s not controversial that he is a historical figure. But apart from that, there’s very little that we can say about him that is historical, in the sense that what we know about the Battle of Hastings is historical. 

Somebody has pointed out that although he lived for about 33 years, the gospels give us details of at most about 40 days of Jesus’ life. Nevertheless, within that very short time, Jesus said and did things which have changed the world and which continue to influence what we say and do, 2500 years later. 

We just don’t know how to explain the big miracles, the Virgin Birth, or the Resurrection, or the miracles which Jesus did in healing people and even in one case, Lazarus, bringing someone back to life after they were dead.

So is it just a very beautiful fairytale? You know, pretty much on a level with the beautiful crib services on Christmas Eve; really, stories for the children, but not something that the grown-ups take much notice of. And yet – there are still millions and millions of people throughout the world – and the numbers are growing very steadily, faster than in any other religion – who don’t think that it is just a fairy story.

I heard a really good sermon once, given by an Oxford philosophy professor (1), in which he didn’t go into abstruse detail like the Ontological Problem, but rather he just simply asked, ‘What if it’s true?’

 ‘What if it’s true?’ A really good illustration of that move from just thinking about God and Jesus in the abstract, as some kind of mythical, theoretical thing, to being able to say that the story of Jesus shows that God not only exists but that he actually takes an interest in us, cares for us, is this. 

This is what happened to John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist Church, on May 24, 1738.  This is what he wrote about it in his journal.

In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther’s Preface to the Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death.’(2)

His faith changed from being an intellectual exercise to an experience in his heart and soul. He knew without a doubt that he was loved by God and saved through the grace of Jesus Christ.

What if it’s true, indeed? I hope that we will all be able to experience something like what John Wesley experienced, because if the message ‘clicks’, our lives will be changed. 

So do take this thought home with you. 

Think and pray, what if? What if it is true? Then, as St Paul said,

‘Behold, I shew you a mystery: we shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed.’ [1 Cor.15:51-52]

Notes 

(1) Prof. Brian Leftow, now William P. Alston Chair And Distinguished Professor of the Philosophy of Religion at Rutgers University, formerly Nolloth Professor of the Philosophy of the Christian Religion at Oriel College, Oxford.

(2)  John Wesley’s Journal Entry 24 May 1738, accessed at https://tinyurl.com/38fj843s on 27th Dec 2025

Sermon for the second week in Lent, preached on 20th February 2024


Genesis 41.46 – 42.5
Galatians 4.8-20

Can we swap places for a minute? Would you come up here and see things as your preacher does, or maybe on your way out, let me know what you feel? We’ve got to deal with two stories today, the first one being Joseph and the amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.

Joseph’s brothers were jealous of his natty outfit, his coat of many colours, and when they were all on a journey through the desert, they chucked him into a pit, intending to sell him into slavery to the next bunch of traders coming through with their camel train. But unfortunately for them, some other spice traders came across him, pulled him out of the pit and took him away to Egypt. where they sold him to the Egyptian government, to Pharaoh, as a slave.

But Joseph prospered. He did a good job, and eventually, with various twists and turns in the story, he ended up being effectively Pharaoh’s viceroy, running the administration of the country. His secret was that he could interpret dreams. He was a kind of diviner, a seer.

He saw the future in a dream and realised that the crops would fail, and he would need to build up a stockpile of grain, if widespread famine in Egypt was to be avoided; so when the crops duly failed, and the famine broke out, Joseph sold grain to all and sundry and became more and more influential, owning more and more land as people run out of money and had to give him their land in return for food.

Among the people who were affected by the famine was Jacob, living in Canaan. Jacob was Joseph’s father, but he had been told that Joseph had died, torn apart by wild beasts, his brothers having shown their father the coat of many colours, stained with the blood of animals, to simulate the remains of a tussle to the death.

Jacob sent the brothers over to Egypt from Canaan, where they were, to buy grain, not knowing that they were about to buy it from the brother whom they thought they had abandoned to an unknown fate in the desert.

They didn’t know it was that long lost brother that they were buying from, and as you will remember, there is a thrilling story full of suspense about Joseph toying with his awful brothers, and making them think that they were going to be wrongly accused of stealing a whole load of grain from Pharaoh so that they would meet a dreadful fate. Then, at the last minute, the tables were turned and Joseph revealed himself as their brother.

You can imagine that it must’ve been a real ‘Oh something moment’ for them, quite a shock. Imagine how they must have felt. They must have thought that the most likely thing would be would be for their younger brother, who was now in such a powerful position, to get his own back on them; that it would not turn out well for them.

The lovely thing is, in this story, that Joseph didn’t do that. In fact he forgave his brothers, and invited them to bring their father over from Canaan to where they could live in Egypt in a land of plenty. Joseph didn’t blame them because, according to the account in the book of Genesis, he reasoned that his whole story, being abandoned and sold into slavery, and then working his way up with Pharaoh so that he became the head of the government of Egypt, was God’s will, was what God had intended, and no humans, certainly not his brothers, were really responsible or to be blamed.

What a wonderful story! That’s one of the two pieces we are looking at this morning. The other one is part of Saint Paul’s great letter to the Christians in Galatia, which is part of modern day Turkey. This reads almost like one side of a telephone conversation.

We don’t really know what Paul was responding to, and what the Galatians were saying to him. We can only try to draw inferences from what he is saying.

You wouldn’t pick this passage in the letter to the Galatians. I think if somebody asked you what the letter is all about, the bits which everybody quotes are the passage where he says that you are all sons of God in union with Christ Jesus. ‘Baptised into union with him, you have all put on Christ as a garment. There is no such thing as Jew and Greek, slave and free, male and female. You are all one person in Christ Jesus’. That comes at the end of chapter 3. and then, at the end of chapter 5, he talks about the signs of being led by the Holy Spirit. ‘The harvest of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, fidelity, gentleness, and self-control’. These are the qualities that come when you are a good Christian.

But these two famous passages are not what we are looking at today. This bit is all about the Galatians kind-of hedging their bets about what they really believed in.

They would be Greeks living in the Roman Empire, and you would remember that every Roman house had its household gods, Lares and Penates, and of course, in the Greek world, there was the Pantheon, on Mount Olympus; Zeus, and Hera, and all the other gods, each one representing and upholding a particular sphere of influence: so Ares, or Mars, was the god of war, for example.

The big difference between the theology of the Romans and Greeks and Judeo-Christian theology, (because Christianity originated in Judaism – Jesus was a Jew) was that whereas the Greeks and Romans worshipped lots of different gods, the Christians, as well as the Jews, worshipped one God, one true God, and by and large, they did not make statues or paint pictures of the one true God. He didn’t really have a name – ‘I am who I am’, he said – and certainly in the Jewish tradition, only priests could see God and not be burned up in the experience. ‘Immortal, invisible, God only wise’ sums it up.

But the Galatians wanted to have it both ways. They wanted to go back to the old gods as well, just in case. And St Paul got very cross with them. He said it was a retrograde step and that they would no longer be able to be saved and gain eternal life, if they were enslaved by their worship of elemental spirits, as he called them. it could just have been earth, wind, fire, and water, the basic elements, but whatever it was, Saint Paul was very frustrated by the Galatians’ wanting to worship those elemental spirits as well as the one true God as revealed in Jesus Christ.

So on the one hand, we have the story of Joseph and the amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, and all the other, a rather bad-tempered rocket written by Paul to the Galatians.

So – imagine you are up here. What do you say about those two passages? What lessons can we draw from them? I would be tempted, I have to say, to draw out how generous Joseph was. He was almost as saintly as Jesus wanted us to be in his Sermon on the Mount. Love your enemies. Turn the other cheek. Certainly not an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth where those awful brothers were concerned.

But I suspect that in the wider sweep of the story of the people of Israel, Joseph’s kindness rather gets blotted out. This is all part of the story of Israel being enslaved, and then freed, and then finding a place in the promised land, building the temple, having the temple knocked down, being enslaved again in Babylon, and so on, until eventually, at the time of the second temple, they are established in Palestine.

It’s very tempting to try to draw parallels with what’s happening in the same area today. Just imagine what the possibilities would be if Mr Netanyahu took a leaf out of Joseph’s book and showed compassion and forgiveness. But if you and I swapped places and you had drawn that conclusion, I’m not sure that people would give you an easy ride as they were shaking your hand on the way out at the end of the service. They might say you’d stretched things rather a lot.

And what about Saint Paul and the Galatians? Apparently, according to Paul, they were volunteering to be enslaved again by worshipping the elemental spirits, rather than the one true God. What would you say about that? It’s a different kind of slavery from the slavery which the Israelites endured in Egypt and in Babylon. This is more an intellectual slavery, abandoning their principles and hedging their bets spiritually.

And, in passing, you might want to observe that Saint Paul’s letters, particularly this sort of letter where he takes a congregation of Christians to task for something that he thinks they are doing wrong, is a sort of communication which I don’t think we would get in today’s world. Because St Paul is in effect telling the Galatians what to believe.

We go to great lengths to ensure that we don’t interfere with everyone’s freedom to believe whatever they want to. We regret the history of the missionaries. Who would say now, ‘Don’t believe in Scientology or Mormon, but stick to the real stuff?’ Alternatively, when we are thinking of Islam or Judaism, we are at great pains not to say that people mustn’t be Muslims or Jews, but that people should be only Christians.

No, instead, we emphasise that all three religions, called the religions of the book, effectively worship the same one true God. We just approach that one true God in slightly different ways. So we wouldn’t be tempted to write the sort of letter that St Paul has written if we found, for example, that somebody had converted from Christianity to Islam. Nevertheless, in certain countries the reverse move, from Islam to Christianity or Judaism, is something which is condemned, indeed, sometimes bringing the death penalty.

That happens in Pakistan or Iran, but we don’t tell people what to believe. We have to some extent therefore changed from Saint Paul’s approach. What do you think? What do we make of that?

So those are your reflection points for this second week of Lent. What lessons could we draw from the story of Joseph and the amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, and what do you think St Paul was up to in his frankly rather tough letter to the Galatians? Would it wash today? Let’s swap places and you can tell me the answers.

Amen.