We are continuing in Ordinary Time in the Church Calendar and today is the Eighth Sunday after Trinity (Trinity VIII, 10 August 2025). Later this morning, I plan to be at the Parish Eucharist in Saint Mary and Saint Giles Church in Stony Stratford. But, before the day begins, I am taking some quiet time this morning to give thanks, for reflection, prayer and reading in these ways:
1, today’s Gospel reading;
2, a reflection on the Gospel reading;
3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary;
4, the Collects and Post-Communion prayer of the day.
Luke 12: 32-40 (NRSVA):
[Jesus said:] 32 ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. 33 Sell your possessions, and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. 34 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
35 ‘Be dressed for action and have your lamps lit; 36 be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. 37 Blessed are those slaves whom the master finds alert when he comes; truly I tell you, he will fasten his belt and have them sit down to eat, and he will come and serve them. 38 If he comes during the middle of the night, or near dawn, and finds them so, blessed are those slaves.
39 ‘But know this: if the owner of the house had known at what hour the thief was coming, he would not have let his house be broken into. 40 You also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.’
Today’s reflection
Have you ever been burgled?
It is a frightening and a traumatic experience for anyone who has suffered it.
It is one thing to come home from a day’s work, or from a holiday, to find your house has been broken into. It is another to wake up and realise that as you were sleeping a thief has broken into your home, and is downstairs or in the next room.
It happened to me once, in a house in Dublin I was living in.
It was in the days before mobile ’phones, and even before cordless ’phones had become readily available. I had been working late the night before and came downstairs to answer a mid-morning call.
Unknown to me, the thieves were in the next room, having already gone through the kitchen. They were in there, having made themselves something to drink, had cut the lead to the video recorder, and were squatting on the floor, armed with the ‘kitchen devil,’ straight from the cutlery drawer, sifting through the other family possessions.
They must have remained very quiet. Instead of stealing these items, they stole out the back door before I ever put the ’phone down or realised what had happened.
It is a frightening experience, and it made me extra vigilant: extra bolts and locks, rethinking the alarm system, and so on. The police knew who the ‘likely suspects’ were, but they could offer no guarantees that the house was never going to be broken into again … and again.
It is an experience that was also a reminder of my own vulnerability, and a reminder that what I own and possess is not really mine, and not mine for very long. Finding the ‘kitchen devil’ on the floor was also a sharp, very sharp, reminder that even my life is not mine for very long.
And so, the image of Christ at the end of the Gospel reading at the Eucharist today (Luke 12: 32-40), of a thief coming unexpectedly to break into my house, may not be a very comforting one for those of us brought up with the image of ‘Gentle Jesus, Meek and Mild.’
And yet it is an image that has echoes in the poetry of some of the great mystical writers in Anglican history. It reminds me, for example, of the words of John Donne (Holy Sonnets XIV):
Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
It is the passionate language of love, of passionate love. But then, of course, Christ demands our passion, our commitment, our love.
Christ’s call to us in this reading, the demands Christ is making on us in this reading, are not just addressed to the Disciples.
Christ is speaking to the disciples in particular, and teaching them about the kingdom (Luke 12: 1). But as he is speaking to them, someone in the crowd – like a heckler – interrupts and asks a question (see Luke 12: 13).
The inner circle of the Disciples must have felt they were being broken into by those on the rims, those in the crowd of outsiders, the crowd or multitude following Christ but who were not among the Disciples.
So Christ’s demands are made not just of some inner circle, for some elite group within the Church, for those who are seen as pious and holy.
This is a demand he makes also of those on the margins, for the sake of those on the margins, that he makes on the whole Church for the sake of those on the margins.
We are to be ever vigilant that we do not keep those on the margins on the outside for too long. They may appear like thieves trying to break in. But when we welcome in those on the outside who we see as thieves, we may find we are welcoming Christ himself.
And in welcoming Christ himself, into our inner sanctum, we are making it a sign of the Kingdom. The Church needs to be a place not where we feel secure, but where the outsider feels welcome, where they can feast and taste what the Kingdom of God is like.
What is this Kingdom like?
Where is it?
When shall we find it?
In this Gospel reading, Christ tells the multitude – the multitude who are gathered just like the 5,000 who were gathered earlier on the hillside and fed with the multiplication of five loaves and two fish (Luke 9: 10-17) – that the kingdom is already given.
The translation in the NRSV (New Revised Standard Version) translations, says ‘it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom’ (Luke 12: 32), present tense. But the original Greek says ‘your Father was well pleased with you (or, took pleasure) to freely give the Kingdom to you’ (… ὅτι εὐδόκησεν ὁ πατὴρ ὑμῶν δοῦναι ὑμῖντὴν βασιλείαν).
God wanted to do something good for the ‘little flock’ (verse 32), and so freely gave them the kingdom – the reign of God – in which tables are open, status is upended, and all people are treated with dignity. In God’s Kingdom – on earth as it is in heaven – there is no scarcity, there are no class separation or gender barriers, there are no ‘insiders’ and no ‘outsiders.’
Christ compares that Kingdom of God with a wedding banquet.
When we go to a wedding, we have no control over what happens. In the first case, we have no control over who is getting married to whom. But, secondly, weddings break down all our petty snobberies and all our status-seeking.
Whatever we think of the choice of bride or groom, we have no say at all in who is going to be a new brother-in-law, a new mother-in-law, and even into the future, who is going to be a new cousin to our children’s children.
It’s enough to make you laugh.
Sarah laughed when she was told about her future family (see Genesis 18: 12). There is a hint of this story in the Epistle reading this morning, when the writer reminds us of the faith of Abraham and Sarah (see Hebrews 11: 1-3, 8-16).
The first reading (Isaiah 1: 1, 10-20) reminds us that despite our failings, the failings of society, the failings of politics, God’s promises of the Kingdom multiply beyond all our expectations, even beyond the expectations of modern Bible translators.
We cannot control this. Those who come into the banquet may appear to us like thieves and burglars, brazenly breaking into our own family home, into our own family.
But we may find that the thief is actually Christ trying to break into our hearts to let us know that the kingdom is already here.
The word for master here is actually κύριος (kyrios), Lord, the word used in the Greek Old Testament for the Lord God by Jews who found the use of the name of God offensive and blasphemous. But using the word master for κύριος hides away God’s work, confusing the Lord, the ‘Son of Man’ (ὁ υἱὸς τοῦ ἀνθρώπου, ho yios tou anthropou), with the ‘master of the house,’ the householder (οἰκοδεσπότης, oikodespótēs).
Think of how the word κύριος (kyrios), Lord, was used by Abraham as he addresses the three visitors to Abraham and Sarah at the Oak of Mamre. The strangers become angels, and the angels come to represent the Triune God.
Had Abraham treated his visitors as thieves, where would we be today? Instead, he sets a banquet before the Three, and finds not once but three times that he has an encounter with the living Lord (Genesis 18: 3, 13, 14), the Triune God, an encounter that leads Abraham and Sarah to a faith that ushers in the promises of the Kingdom.
The Lord who arrives for the banquet and stands knocking at the door (Luke 12: 36) in this Gospel reading is the same Christ who says: ‘Behold, I am standing at the door knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come into you and eat with you, and you with me’ (Revelation 3: 20).
He comes in ways we do not expect, and at ‘the unexpected hour,’ the time we ‘think nothing of’ (ἧ ὥρᾳ οὐ δοκεῖτε, he hora ou dokeite, Luke 12: 40) – ‘an hour that seems like nothing’. He does not bother trying to tear down our puny defences. He sneaks around them instead.
Welcome to the banquet.
Welcome to the kingdom.
Allow the stranger among you, and the stranger within you, to open that door and discover that Christ is not a thief trying to steal what you have, but is the Lord who is trying to batter our hearts and tear down our old barriers so that we can all feast together at the new banquet:
Batter my heart, three-person’d God; for you
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
…
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
Today’s Prayers (Sunday 10 August 2025, Trinity VIII):
The theme this week (10 to 16 August) in Pray with the World Church, the prayer diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘Serving God in the Gulf’ (pp 26-27). This theme is introduced today with reflections from Joyaline Rajamani, Administrator at the Church of the Epiphany, Doha, Anglican Church in Qatar:
In the heart of Doha, I have the privilege of serving as Administrator and Secretary to the Senior Priest at the Church of the Epiphany, The Anglican Church in Qatar. My role extends beyond managing schedules and logistics – it is a sacred calling to cultivate a space where faith flourishes, where a global community of believers stands as one family in Christ. Being a Christian here is a quiet yet profound pilgrimage, requiring patience, wisdom, and trust. Though a minority, we worship with dignity and respect, thanks to Qatar’s gracious provision of a safe space for religious practice.
The Religious Complex, fondly called ‘Church City,’ includes around 90 churches of various denominations from Greek Orthodox to Roman Catholic. It is a great symbol of coexistence. So too is the congregation at the Anglican Church of the Epiphany which represents around 57 different nationalities and has over 300 voting members who all worship and serve alongside one another in faith and peace.
‘Whom Shall I Send?’ is a course run by the Episcopal Province of Jerusalem and the Middle East with USPG’s support for youth across the Middle East. This time together stirred something deep within my spirit, calling me to pause and truly listen to God. When we sat under the tent of Abraham and Sarah (Genesis 17-21), I truly learned the grace of waiting. Theirs is a story of trust, hospitality, and unwavering faith in God’s promises. Hospitality is not merely an act but a spiritual discipline, one that has shaped my own faith journey and my administrative work at church.
The USPG prayer diary today (Sunday 10 August 2025, Trinity VIII) invites us to pray by reading and meditating on Luke 12: 32-40.
The Collect of the Day:
Almighty Lord and everlasting God,
we beseech you to direct, sanctify and govern
both our hearts and bodies
in the ways of your laws
and the works of your commandments;
that through your most mighty protection, both here and ever,
we may be preserved in body and soul;
through our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
The Post-Communion Prayer:
Strengthen for service, Lord,
the hands that have taken holy things;
may the ears which have heard your word
be deaf to clamour and dispute;
may the tongues which have sung your praise be free from deceit;
may the eyes which have seen the tokens of your love
shine with the light of hope;
and may the bodies which have been fed with your body
be refreshed with the fullness of your life;
glory to you for ever.
Additional Collect:
Lord God,
your Son left the riches of heaven
and became poor for our sake:
when we prosper save us from pride,
when we are needy save us from despair,
that we may trust in you alone;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Yesterday’s reflection
Continued tomorrow
Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org
No comments:
Post a Comment