‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ He replied, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’

Next Sunday will be Advent – the beginning of the Church Year. It will instigate the days of reflective preparation for the coming of the Christ, the start of the annual cycle of religious belief. Most of its significance will be lost in the jingaligalling retail frenzy as the world celebrates the Saviour’s birth (at least nominally). But that celebration is incomplete – and in fact pretty meaningless – unless we complete the cycle by also marking and celebrating the final chapter of the story – the crowning of the King of Kings.

The Gospel description of Jesus’ birth, life, death, resurrection and coronation is remarkably similar to the pattern of the Agricultural year.

‘We plough the fields and scatter’. Plough Sunday is a time especially devoted to asking for God’s blessing on agriculture and industry as we prepare the ground for renewal. The Prophets and John the Baptist promised the coming incarnation of a Messiah, the Christ, who through grace will redeem the world from its sinful past.

At Rogation tide, we plant the seed that will grow to fulfilment and feed the world. In Jesus calling of the first disciples He plants the seed that will germinate and grow to equip them to spread the message of God’s love through their teaching and example.

Lammastide, (in Ireland Lughnasadh), originally ‘Loaf Mass’, is traditionally the day of first fruits – the bread of the new harvest. The fresh New Covenant relaces the misinterpreted and corrupted law, healing the pain of subjection to secular power.

In the late Autumn, at Harvesttime, we give thanks for God’s unfailing provision, and then the nights become darker as the earth becomes silent and rests. Jesus sets His face to Jerusalem and takes His place in the final act of His Passion. It appears that everything dies.

But it doesn’t. Instead, it is death that is defeated. The winter has no lasting power; the lamb triumphs over sin. The harrowing of the old order prepares the way for the new one to begin under His rule, and the crown of Glory is cast upon His head.

The voice from the criminal on the cross is the first to acknowledge Jesus as King forever, and as old year turns to new year, the story is to be told again.

We celebrate the beginning of the story in Advent – but before we do, it is equally important to celebrate the final act of Coronation. The Gospel proclaims that Jesus is King.
…and He is prepared to do it all again, in love.

The Gospel passage above is sometimes referred to as a ‘Little apocalypse’, in which Jesus is talking about the ‘end times’ that we read about in the Book of Revelation – the victorious battle over evil leading to this world being replaced by the New Jerusalem. It certainly does have a prophetic element – but I’m not sure that Jesus really is talking about those ‘end’ times – rather, He is predicting the more immediate persecution of His followers on earth, not in the heavenly realm. ‘The end will not follow immediately’; He is talking about now and the immediate future.

Jesus is hosting a discussion with His followers (not just the Disciples, and not necessarily Jews) – most of whom don’t appear to have ever travelled far from their home village. They have never seen such magnificence. It’s grandeur could almost attract them back to the old ways of legalism and religious hierarchy.

Jesus destroys that admiration. Look at it while you can, He says, because like all the other things of the world, it won’t last. But the eternal Kingdom of God will.

Terrible things will happen. Humankind has fought wars since the beginning of time and is likely to continue to do so if current world conflicts are anything to go by. False prophets and corrupt leaders will attempt to manipulate our lives, and that, Jesus tells them, may result in us experiencing hardship, treachery and suffering – but it will also provide you with an opportunity to witness to the truth. The world is not necessarily going to hell in a handcart tomorrow, though it often seems that way – just as it has for many, many years. (The invention of gunpowder in the 9th Century was thought to be the beginning of the end)

In ways, the Christian Journey is like a race – a Marathon, not a sprint. The key is endurance, Jesus says. There will be mountains to climb, tears and heartache in the depths of your soul, and it will sometimes feel like it’s impossible to carry on. But the world will continue, and end only in God’s good time.

The word of truth will prevail despite everything the world can throw at us. Whatever happens in the world, pray ceaselessly, wear the whole armour of God, keep your eyes fixed on the prize, and our certain reward is eternal life in the Kingdom.

But on those who honour my name, the dawn will break, the sun will rise – the sun of righteousness – and there will be healing in its light.

I emphasise that what follows are my honest personal views. I totally respect those who don’t share them. But I refute accusations of disrespect when I have once more to admit that I am continually conflicted about the ‘celebration’ of ‘Remembrance’ Sunday.

My Grandfather, Valentine Matthews, was killed in the totally pointless WWI bloodbath known as 3rd Ypres, better known as Passchendaele. His body was never found. I have seen his name on the memorial in the huge Tyne Cot cemetery, among the 40,000 unknown others and 4,000 graves of the bodies who were identified. I am conscious of the motivation that led young men to war – believing they would help deliver a future fit for generations still to come. For me. How can I not commemorate his sacrifice on the day set out for Remembrance? Wearing a poppy is a symbol of respect.

And yet, the hoped-for promise of peace never happened, and it increasingly appears that it never will. The day will include military marches and what in my opinion are sentimental rituals of poppies cascading from the ceiling of the Albert Hall and other places around the world. Do they make a difference? Have the ever stopped a war? Or in fact, do they have the opposite effect of maintaining a sense of separation and superiority among those of different histories, beliefs and cultures? Is the poppy a reminder of division?

I have no issue whatsoever with those who fought against Valentine and his compatriots. In turn, they too were true to their belief. I do though have difficulty in accepting those who would use his death for their own ends, and use the conflicts of the past as a justification to build ever-more powerful weapons, spending money that could be better allocated to building a more equitable society – which might in fact be a lot more effective in building peace than using violence, which demonstrably has never worked.

As I see the destruction in Ukraine, in the Middle East, hear the announcement of increased military expenditure, see the thousands upon thousands of displaced people, the bandaged or malnourished children on hospital beds, I am sickened at the total disregard for the lessons of the past and the participation of ‘Remembrance Day’ services with those with the power to stop the slaughter. I feel I don’t want anything to do with it.

The war in the New Testament is not between women and men created and love equally by our Creator, but between good and evil won on a cross by our Saviour who is Christ the Lord.
I will wear a poppy on Sunday – not to commemorate those lost in ancient wars, and certainly not to express ‘patriotic’ allegiance, but to offer support and thanksgiving for all those who are prepared to put their lives at risk for the sake of others and work for peace in the midst of conflict. So we pray for:

• The Defence Forces
• The Ambulance Service
• An Garda Síochána
• The Fire Service
• The Coastguard
• The RNLI and its volunteers
• The Civil Defence and its volunteers
• Nurses, doctors and all those who use their skills of healing both in this nation and across the world

And all those who give their lives for others

In Jesus’ time tax collectors were not popular and were commonly regarded as sinners. Tax collectors worked for the Romans, the occupying force in Palestine at the time. They collected taxes from people to give to the Romans and were regarded as traitors. Most people resented the Romans and did not want to pay taxes to them.

Tax collectors were not paid a wage. They were expected to pay their own wages by taking extra money from people. Such a system was open to exploitation and tax collectors had a reputation for being very dishonest. They often became rich at the expense of those they collected taxes from.

Zacchaeus was especially unpopular as he was a chief tax collector in Jericho and a wealthy man. However, he must have realised that his life needed to change, and he was determined to see Jesus – even though this meant climbing a tree.

By inviting himself to Zacchaeus’ house, Jesus showed his acceptance of someone who was regarded as a sinner and treated as an outcast. The crowd did not approve of Jesus’ controversial action.
Zacchaeus showed he was willing to change by offering half of his belongings to the poor and paying back four times as much to anyone he had cheated. This amount was what the Old Testament law demanded as a repayment for dishonesty.

Jesus’ final comment highlights that although he has brought salvation for all people, those who are sinners are most urgently in need of this message. It is wrong to think he is only interested in so-called ‘respectable’ people.

This story is a story of God’s desire to save sinners; it is a story of hope and encouragement to recognize change. It is also a story which highlights that God reaches for people outside institutionalised and exclusive religion, of which humans try to take ownership and power. It is God who recognises the seeker and who makes his way into the lives of the ones who are seen as outcasts. It is God who brings salvation to the faithful sinner, not the people who try to determine through power who is ‘on their side’ and who is an outcast.

One could ask, who are the people in Zacchaeus’ place today if the story was told again in our time? And how would we respond?

After Paul encountered the Lord on the Damascus Road, he was blinded and led by the hand into the City, and told to await the visit of a man called Ananias. He was a disciple who had heard about Paul’s persecution of Jesus’ followers and was (understandably) more than somewhat reluctant to go – but the Lord insisted.

‘But the Lord said to Ananias, “Go! This man is my chosen instrument to proclaim my name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel. I will show him how much he must suffer for my name.”

Ananias went as directed. Placing his hands on Saul, he said, “Brother Saul, the Lord—Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here—has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.” Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptized, and after taking some food, he regained his strength.’ (Acts 9:15-19)

Thus begins the story of a young Jewish man through whose faithful ministry I am sitting here in my office writing this meditation. Over thirty years, his mission will send him on five evangelistic journeys, visiting more than 50 cities including appealing directly to Emperor Caesar and his entire household – as well as writing fourteen letters, spending at least five years in prison and training others to carry on the work – one of whom was Timothy, the recipient of today’s readings, the epistles known as Paul’s final discourse.

He shares his experience with those who will follow him – through the ages, today and beyond; those who continue to proclaim the good news of salvation. He knows that it will involve difficulty, self-denial and suffering. People will reject the Gospel message, seduced by worldly false teaching. But you have a race to run, he tells them – sustained by prayer and scripture, to fulfil your missionary calling to teach the world the truth of Jesus Christ and His endless, amazing love.

Now, Paul, an old man, writes from prison. He is aware that he is probably going to be executed. He is tired, but not exhausted – like the runner crossing the line at the end of a gruelling Marathon race but who still has the strength to rejoice. The pain of all the training, all the hurdles, the failures, the opposition is left behind, for he has finally won the prize, a prize not of this earth. The crown of righteousness awaits him in the safety of the heavenly Kingdom.

That’s not his only reward.

You may remember the scene towards the end of the film ‘Chariots of Fire’, when the Union Flag is raised above the Olympic stadium showing that the runner Harold Abrahams has won the 100m Gold medal. His coach Sam Mussabini, excluded from the Amateur games by virtue of being a professional trainer, sees the flag raised from his hotel room outside the stadium and punches his straw boater in exhilaration. The medal is not just for his protégé Abrahams – it is the prize shared with his coach Mussabini as well.

There are so many who have been alongside us in our Christian Journey, Paul only being one of them. We have their example, coaching, teaching and encouragement to use our God-given gifts to the full, and as we do, they too are awarded the crown of righteousness in the Kingdom.

In our own proclamation of Jesus as Christ the Lord and His victory over the power of sin, we are the medals they wear.