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.

Hands up if you enjoyed receiving Christmas and Birthday presents when you were a child. Keep your hands up if you enjoyed writing Thankyou letters afterwards.

Thought so.

It’s much easier now than it used to be. If you search the Internet for Children’s Thankyou letters, you will be presented with lots of templates to print out.

The sincerity is profound and genuine – Not. I wouldn’t be surprised if were possible to also include a digital signature or buy a rubber stamp with your name on to save the trouble of finding a pen.

And if your Mum didn’t keep reminding you (with increasing menace), you probably just conveniently forgot. Yes, I do speak from experience.

You have to wonder if forgetting to say thank you (and mean it) is part of human nature. It was certainly the case in Biblical times. We read about the healing of the ten lepers whose miserable life was restored to a place in Society by Jesus, and it’s no wonder that they rejoiced when they were pronounced clean by the Priest – and it’s also no surprise that they were so excited that they forgot to thank their healer. Only one bothered – and he was a Samaritan! An outcast, not even a Jewish Galilean, but an alien.

We live in comfort, in safety, in freedom, accepted in our community. I wonder how often we send a Thank you to the One who sets us free? Or do we just take it for granted that Grandma will always buy us nice presents whether we ever handwrite a thank you letter or not?

The cry of the disciples to the Lord, “increase our faith,” resonates very
much with us today. Is being a person of faith harder today than it has ever been?
In one sense no: previous generations too had to struggle. Looking back at Old Testament times, I try to imagine what faith struggles the people of Israel had to endure. Our first reading from the Lamentations of Jeremiah and the Psalm tell us about the hardship, pain and loss, including loss of their faith, during the Babylonian captivity. Jerusalem lay in ruins, people were displaced, enslaved and had to make this long and hard journey in an unknown future. Generations of Israelites were traumatised by this experience. In Jewish history, this wasn’t going to be their only exile – many more years of having to migrate and of being dispersed were to come. How did they keep their faith, one wonders? Despite all various traditions and differences in religious teachings, the sense of belonging to a faith community was kept alive. Religious holidays, communal ceremonies, prayers and festivities were and still are held high, whether in worship in synagogue or in rituals in the family home. Community is as central to Jewish faith now as it was then. And it gets renewed and passed on from generation to generation by a desire for God and by practice of prayer and rituals.

How strong their faith must be.

For Christians faith also had and still has its challenges. I am thinking of the very early Christians, in our Gospel Reading they were in fact still Yews. They must have felt that their faith was very small and fragile, not strong enough to face the challenges of spreading Jesus’ teachings in a hostile and dangerous environment. Jesus reminds them to take the approach of slaves, of servants, and to basically plough on. Doesn’t the idea, wanting to first have a faith ‘big enough for everything’ before going out there and being a strong Christian, sound familiar? But faith grows by a desire for God, by practicing prayer and prayerful practice.

 Some decades later, Paul writes in the second letter to Timothy about upholding the faith. Christians at the time often faced persecution, imprisoning and death for openly practicing their faith. Also they might have been ridiculed for it. Hence the idea of being ashamed for ones faith. Paul reminded them as much as us that God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline. And in this spirit Christians ploughed on.
Even today faith has its particular challenges. For the most part, public discourse is against faith in general and against church in particular. It would be easy to lose heart. On the other hand, faith is instrumentalized as a tool of power. One think of white supremacism, going hand in hand with homophobia, misogyny and justification of oppression, terror and even war.

Keeping the faith, Christs faith of servanthood, compassion and love can be hard enough, not to mention growing!! But let us remember we grow in faith by desire and by practice—desire for God and the practice of prayer. The present times again call us to focus on the heart of the Christian project—Jesus and the Gospel—and on the heart of prayerful practice, of discipleship—love and service.  In community we can support each other in love and fellowship and build one another up. And plough on. For God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.

… for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it…

… so says St Paul. At first reading of what he says, I’m not sure I agree – well, especially the last bit. I like to think I brought a big bundle of joy to my Mum and Dad, even though perhaps I wasn’t aware of it at the time. And ok, I will take nothing out in terms of money – what the world would consider to be wealth. But it’s important to realise that Paul doesn’t consider that money and wealth are the same thing.

Instead I hope and pray that I shall leave the world in a better place than I entered it, otherwise I shall have wasted the opportunity to live in freedom of body and soul as a disciple of Christ. Using that wealth, and the power it gives me, for the benefit of others yet to be born. Certainly I cannot take material possessions out – but I trust I can leave a positive legacy having used whatever ‘riches’ I have been blessed with. In our Christian journey, we need to understand that true wealth is only to be found in service, using the gifts that we have been given to further the coming of God’s Kingdom. And that wealth will, I pray, outlive me.

The rich and those in authority can choose to use their power for immediate and selfish purposes, to amass a treasure chest of gold, not caring about what happens when they die. Or they could, instead, invest to build for the future, their service resulting in short-term personal disadvantage and also incurring the wrath of those who are adversely affected. But the gift they leave behind will benefit may others.

As I write this, the issue of global warming comes to mind as an example – should we continue burning fossil fuels for our comfort, causing permanent and irreversible damage from which we won’t really see the consequences in our lifetime? Or should we work for cleaner, more sustainable energy, accepting some discomfort and greater immediate cost? What will we bequest to our children’s children? It’ll be too late to change the legacy we leave behind when we’re taken home to glory.

And perhaps St Paul is also not just talking about us as individuals – maybe he is speaking to the Church?