It's wonderful to welcome so many of you here today for this very special In Loving Memory service. Of course you are all here because you have suffered a loss, a bereavement. In many ways I suspect that you are continuing to suffer your loss, because death is always painful, and loss is hard to bear. When someone dies a hole is left and the way we experience life changes.

When a loved one dies, we don’t stop relating to them, but we do start to relate differently. We relate through our memories. Memory is an important human and biblical concept. Before Jesus died he implored his friends to keep on meeting together, and eating, to gather ‘in remembrance’ of him. Jesus asked his family and friends to learn the art of remembering well.


Remembering well, remembering with love, is all about a healthy and continuing relationship. Remembering well accepts the pain of separation and death whilst also giving thanks for the qualities, and the impression on your soul, that the person you miss has left behind and passed on to you.  Loving memory’s concern is a commitment to keep living as though love matters and as though love, as St Paul rightly insists, is the final word: ‘now these three remain, faith, hope and love and the greatest of these is love.’  So can I encourage you to live well, as people of love, even though you have suffered the pain of loss. May your loving memory be a very active and transformative way of honouring those who have gone before.


As a Christian I believe that the notion of Loving Memory is best animated through a sense of faith and hope.  This intermingling of faith, hope and love is captured beautifully in our readings and hymns. The twenty third psalm comes to its epic conclusion with the suggestion that God really does walk with us ‘all the days of our life’ and, that we truly shall ‘live in the house of the Lord forever,’  whilst the hymn that we are about to sing anticipates that God will ‘be there at our sleeping,’ gracing us with us ‘peace in our the end of the day.’

For me such sentiments are very real; they reside at the core of my faith. At the beginning of most funeral services that I take I read the words of St. Paul where he says that he is ‘convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord,’ (Romans 8, 38-39).

These verses get to the heart of things, they are a statement of faith, written in a spirit of hope, expressing an eternal truth: love can never be defeated, not even by death. Faith and hope, animated through love, are the virtues that have the capacity to transform our memories into eternal treasures.


So even as you continue to suffer the pain of loss and to bear its scars can I encourage you to keep remembering well, to remember in the spirit of faith, hope, and love, in the sure and certain knowledge that the transformative power of love, your love and God’s love, never comes to an end; it is an eternal treasure.









Does anyone here like receiving presents? I do. When I was ordained deacon the Church of England gave me a New Testament and Psalms. When I was ordained priest they decided they could trust me with the whole of the Bible. In the bible they gave me for my priesting a card was placed, with my name on it. On the card was written the following words:

‘Receive this Book, as a sign of the authority which God has given you this day, to preach the gospel of Christ and to minister His Holy Sacraments.’


Now, at the risk of being defrocked, struck off, sent to some far flung part of the Anglican Communion, I am slightly tempted to quibble with this invocation, for the Bible isn’t a book but a collection of books. The bible is a biblios which includes different types of book within each of its testaments. In the Old Testament we have the ‘in the beginning book’ of Genesis, the law books, the history books, the wisdom books, and the books of prophecy. In the New Testament we have the four gospels, Paul’s specific epistles, Peter and John’s general epistles, and the apocalyptic and visionary book of Revelation. The bible is a collection of different books, written for different purposes, so we need to be clear when we say things like ‘the Bible clearly says.’ 

In the reading from today’s epistle we hear one of the most quoted verses in the Bible ‘all scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching.’ This verse is often interpreted as ‘the Bible is correct in every way.’ But it can’t mean this for one very simple reason: when Paul wrote these words to Timothy the gospels hadn’t been written, in all probability, and the canon hadn’t been agreed. So we need to treat this verse with some caution. But this doesn’t mean that we can dismiss the Bible. Not does it mean that the bible isn’t truly inspired by God and useful for teaching. What it does mean is that we should treat the bible with dignity, reverence and intelligence, holding it lovingly in our hands as we read it. What we should never do is to reduce the Bible to a form of Christianised Haynes Manuel.


My approach to the Bible is fairly straightforward and, as a Christian, I believe that the central figure in the Bible is Jesus. The Old Testament points us towards the coming of Jesus, the gospels introduce us to the person of Jesus and the rest of the New Testament, with the exception of the Book of Revelation, shows us how we might live as communities that believe in Jesus; and the emphasis on the communal is all important. We are after all a communion, so the only real question is whether we aspire to be a Holy Communion.

The approach I have sketched is in many ways highly Lutheran. I believe, like Luther, that the Bible contains all that is necessary for salvation, but without believing that the bible is perfect in every way. Like Channing I believe the Bible to be ‘a human and therefore fallible record of the infallible divine word.’ Like Luther I believe that we should read the Bible with openness and humility allowing our consciences to be ‘captive to the word of God, rather than the Bible.’


In today’s Gospel reading Jesus urges his followers not to mine the Scriptures in the vain attempt to find verses that affirm any prejudice we might hold, but instead to focus on learning more about the very character of Jesus. If we follow this advice the Bible will, I suggest, open up in unexpected ways before us. Luther said: ‘if you want to interpret well set Christ before you, for he is the man to whom it all applied, every bit of it.’

My hunch, my suspicion, is that Luther was, and is right. As a community and as individuals we should treat the Bible with dignity and reverence, we should set ourselves before the endlessly fascinating Christ of the Gospels, so that we are fed, changed and equipped to proclaim his holy name in both word and deed, for this after all is the mandate of the Church; we are the Church of Christ. 

But how can we do this? How in this place can we become people of the word; people fed each and every day by Jesus and the words of Scripture? Well, I know of only one way: prayerful reading of Scripture. So let me invite you to do something: as you leave Church today, and every Sunday, take the pew sheet home with you, don’t give it back in, and spend five or ten minutes each day simply reading through the passages and see what strikes you, challenges you or even affirms you.  I think if you do this it just might, over time, make all the difference in the world, Amen.


Today we celebrate harvest. Harvest is a very special one-off service, a festival that stands on its own and which isn’t given a specific and set date in the church’s annual calendar.

In recent times it has become popular to call harvest creation-tide. There is a significance in this in that it differentiates between creation itself, the created order, and the output of creation; harvest. Harvest itself celebrates the relationship between God and humankind. God is the creator, we are the stewards of creation; God is the creator, we are the created. If this is true, which I believe it to be, then the first of our harvest callings must be towards humility. God is God, the almighty, the endlessly creative one and we are simply his people; the people of his pasture.


The second harvest calling must be towards awe and wonder. The created order should surely inspire a sense of our own smallness and of God’s magnitude? This sense of awe and wonder is something that the psalmist perfectly encapsulates:

‘When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established, what are human beings that you are mindful of them, mortals that you care for them? Yet you have made them a little lower than God and crowned them with glory and honour. You have given them dominion over the work of your hands: you have put all things under their feet, all sheep and oxen, and also the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the fish of the sea, whatever passes along the paths of the seas. O Lord, our sovereign, how majestic is your name in all the earth,’ (Psalm 8).

This sense of awe and wonder should, when we reflect on it, lead to our third calling: gratitude. We are fortunate, blessed, privileged to live surrounded by beautiful countryside. We should enjoy the created order, the natural environment, God’s play ground. But, we should also seek to cherish, treasure and renew it. As a church we will be spending some time doing this next year. Becoming a greener, more environmentally friendly church, is one of our challenges.


Harvest and creation-tide is also an opportunity to deepen our trust in God.  This is the important message of today’s gospel reading (Matthew 6, 25-33).  But we need to be careful with the word trust. Trust, in the harvest sense, doesn’t mean adopting a solely stoical attitude, rendering ourselves passive in the faces of the challenges that face us. Trust is, I think, about stepping out in faith, as God’s partners, in the surety that God is both with us and for us. Trust is very definitely an active thing! Trust is something we do, not just something we feel.


Our fifth harvest calling is to generosity. Harvest reminds us that we must be people who both care and share. Our generosity must be of a truly radical nature. The created order and its produce is all of humanities to enjoy and yet so many both near to home, and further afield, don’t get to share in God’s abundance. This is very definitely not part of God’s plan. As Christians we must always look out for the less fortunate, the poor amongst us, the widows and orphans in their distress (James 1, 27).  So I am glad this year that we are donating the food offerings to the Milton Keynes Foodbank and the cash offering to Water Aid; please let’s dig deep and sacrificially. Let’s play our part in alleviating food poverty in our neighbouring city; a city where one in five, disgracefully, live below the poverty line and let’s also play our part in alleviating the distress of our international neighbours.  


So there you have it, five harvest callings:

Humility, awe and wonder, gratitude, trust and generosity.

If we can live up to these callings, not just today, but on an ongoing basis we will truly be God’s arms of love around a deeply fractured world, and that is our harvest calling. We will become as the Psalmist puts it ‘like trees planted by streams of water which yield their fruit in due season,’ (Psalm 1).