3rd May, 2020

My dear friends,                                                                                                                                              
 
The sound of applause for health workers at 8.00 p.m. on Thursdays has evolved over the past four or five weeks into something of a national custom. My village, Great Bardfield, is divided into two parts, with the church and vicarage on a small hill between the two. At 8.00 p.m. on Thursdays the sound of someone clapping can be heard in the distance, usually to my left. Gradually the applause is taken up, and perhaps ten or twenty seconds later clapping can be heard over the rooftops to my right. Saucepans are bashed, whistles blown, car horns sounded. I join in from the vicarage garden. The startled horses run around in the field and the birds chirp. Then, gradually, the sound eases away and peace returns for another week. It is a surprisingly moving experience. I clap in appreciation of all that is being done in hospitals and care homes around the country, and especially by members of St John. When you hear the sound of clapping on Thursday, do please remember that it is meant for you.
 
I wonder if I could ask your prayers for the Order of Malta, our Roman Catholic fellow-Order. Members of the Order of Malta are doing very similar work to members of the Order of St John in countries around the world during the present coronavirus pandemic. Last Wednesday, 29th April, their Grand Master, Fra’ Giacomo dalla Torre del Tempio di Sanguinetto, died in Rome. Perhaps we might pray for them in their loss, and also for their important work at this time.
 
Do please remember that the Order of St John is operating a telephone chaplaincy service each day between 10.30-11.30 a.m. and 4.00-5.30 p.m. Several chaplains, including me, are taking it in turn to be available if anyone would like a little chat. The telephone number is 03330 154414.
 
With kindest regards,
 
                                                                 The Rev. Dr  ROBERT BEAKEN, County Chaplain.
EASTER 4 – 3rd MAY 2020.
 
St John, chapter 10, verses 1-10.
I should like to begin with two questions:
 
  1. How do we experience life in all its fullness during our time on planet earth?
  2. How do we get to Heaven?

These are very good questions – indeed, they are perhaps the most important questions we can ever ask ourselves. The answers are to be found in today’s Gospel. Jesus said:
 
‘I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture’.
 
The context for this is Jesus’ teaching that he is the Good Shepherd. He earlier said two very interesting things. He began: ‘Anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate, but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep’.

            In the first century AD the shepherd would gather the sheep into a pen or enclosure in the evening to keep them safe during the night, and would then lie down and sleep in the gateway. Any wolf or sheep-rustler seeking to get in would have to get over the shepherd, and the shepherd would defend the sheep if necessary with his life.

            This immediately tells us something very significant about the love of Jesus Christ for his people. Jesus went on:
 
‘...the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they know his voice’.
 
It is revealing that the Good Shepherd knows all his sheep by name. I am told it is still like this in parts of rural Africa. The shepherd knows each of his sheep, and all their traits and tendencies. Interestingly, the parable suggests that the sheep are not as daft as we sometimes think: they will follow the good shepherd, but they have the sense to run away from a stranger.

            In these few words, Jesus speaks to us of his love and care for each individual man and woman, boy and girl. He knows each of us by our names. He seeks to keep us safe and if necessary he will lay down his life for the sheep. I wonder whether any of Jesus’ audience that day remembered those words at the first Easter.

            Today, the fourth Sunday of Easter, is sometimes known as ‘Good Shepherd Sunday’ and is often kept as a day of prayer for vocations in the Church: we pray for more priests, and also for more monks and nuns (and yes, the Church of England has monks and nuns, just like the Roman Catholic and Orthodox Churches). Men and women need to hear about Jesus Christ. We need the Good News explained to us. Above all, we need the sacraments, especially Baptism, the Eucharist, which are vital to the Christian life. We need to be helped to pray. And we need other people to pray for us.

Now, we each have our own vocation from God – a way of life appointed by God in which we are to discover and serve Him. But some people are called by God to be ordained to the priesthood or to enter religious communities as monks or nuns. There are, I am afraid, no super-Christians who can be ordained or enter communities. Clergy, monks and nuns are all ordinary, fallible, sinful human beings, with gifts, skills, wounds and weak spots. God calls us, just as we are, and uses us in His service.

We could really do with more clergy. An awful lot of parish priests are due to retire soon. The difficulty is that people are called by God to be ordained, but they sometimes doubt themselves and their ability to carry out the ministry of a Christian priest, so they try to ignore God. Other people are dissuaded by their parents or friends – ‘don’t be ordained – you’ll be poor – get a proper job, one that pays properly’. Some people start theological training or indeed are ordained, but then they give up when the going gets tough.

            It all sounds a bit like the parable of the seed that fell into different types of soil. I have to say that I have never once regretted being ordained. I have sometimes had to cope with painful experiences over the past 31 years of priesthood. I often wish I was a better priest and served my Lord better. And yet, despite the difficulties, it is deeply wonderful to serve the Son of God as his priest, to reach out to his people with his Good News and to minister his sacraments to them. I never feel more alive that when I walk along the altar rail on Sundays, administering Holy Communion: in that moment, the distance between heaven and earth doesn’t feel so very big after all. Week by week, as I place the Body of Christ into the hands of my parishioners, knowing their lives and loving them as an extension of my own family, I experience the most tremendous sense of privilege.

            So, perhaps I could ask you this week to pray for people who are wondering just now whether God is calling them to become a monk or a nun, or to be ordained to the priesthood? May they hear the voice of God and find the courage and faith to respond to it. Yes, a priest’s stipend and the pension aren’t marvellous, and I sometimes wonder where I am going to live when I retire – but God has looked after me so far and I am sure he will continue to do so. And after all, not all rewards are financial. As I have said, priestly ministry comes with a personal cost, but it brings far greater rewards – and, for the most part, it is rather fun!
Could I ask you also this week to pray for those preparing for ordination; for newly-ordained curates experiencing parish ministry for the first time with much to adjust to; and for priests experiencing difficulties in their work or coping with tragedy, especially during the present Coronavirus pandemic.

            Back to the questions with which I began this sermon.
  1. How do we experience life in all its fullness during our time on planet earth?
  2. How do we get to Heaven?
 
The answer is that we do so by embracing Jesus Christ, the only-begotten Son of God, who died on the Cross and rose on the third day for us. We offer Jesus our faith, our love, the very core of our inner selves. We try to follow Jesus as we journey through life. When we wobble, commit sin, or get a bit lost, we pick ourselves up, repent, and carry on with the pilgrimage.
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Let the last words go to Jesus, the Good Shepherd who sleeps in the entrance to the sheep pen: ‘The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly’.