Sermon: Goodness

I should say right at the outset that preaching does not come easily to me.

When I came to put together these thoughts I was struggling; I wondered why it was so difficult.  I give many lectures and speeches so why was preparing to preach to others today so daunting?  The answer, or so it seems to me, is that people who preach should, in a rather special way, be ‘good’.  And I am not.  That is not excessive modesty I’ve never been accused of that; – I know what I’m good at; I could give you a list of what I think I can do pretty well.  So when I say, I’m not good enough to preach I’m saying something different.  For many years my family have used an apparently simple Grace at meals.  ‘God bless our food and make us good for Jesus sake’.  I found it uncomfortable as a child – especially when used by my mother with a rather pointed look at me.  My children reported the same – but I notice that they use it with their children, my grandchildren.  As I’ve got older that grace has become more thought provoking ‘God bless our food and make us Good’.  I recall that Jesus had reacted sharply at being called ‘Good’.  As he was setting out on a journey a stranger ran up to him, knelt down and said “Good Master, what must I do to win eternal life?”

Jesus’ immediate response was: “Why do you call me good?  No-one is good except God alone.”  But then Jesus warmed to him: “You know the commandments.  But go and sell all your goods and follow me.”

And the man he was talking to – a rich man who, heaven knows, had tried long and hard to be good – failed the test; as I fail it, and he goes away with a heavy heart – as I must do.

That story tells us a lot about Jesus.  ‘Why do you call me good?’  The response clearly amazed and upset the disciples.  He was a miracle worker, a healer, a leader, ‘Go and do this’ he would say.  He taught them, encouraged them, rebuked them.  He must have had a magnetic personality and his words and his ideas of goodness come clearly down the centuries.  Churches are founded on them.

Yet not only did he disclaim personal goodness and preach humility – he practiced it.

He washed the disciples feet; he kept company with outcasts and the dregs of society and, on the cross, at what he clearly believed was the end, he did not despise the company of two thieves, saying to one of them ‘Today you shall be with me in paradise’.

The centurion standing guard at the crucifixion was amazed and overcome.  Jesus had found honour among thieves.

Small wonder people called him Good – yet he denied it.

I have known and I do know many people who I consider Good.  I cannot define what it is about them that makes me so sure that they’re good.  It just radiates from them.  Some are rich and some are poor, some old and some young.  Some of one race and some another.  Some in high places and some in back streets.

Part of my life has been within education, part within business and commerce.  I’ve seen good people at work in both, in top jobs and sweeping floors.  God knows, like the rich man I have tried to achieve that state and I dare say most of you feel the same.  But in my heart I know I’m not there, nor am I likely to be.

So where does that leave me – and people like me.  Why do I have the effrontery to preach to you – of all people – today, even though I find it difficult?

Well, people like me are left with forgiveness.  I can do no better than go back to that passage in Luke’s gospel when the Prodigal Son decides to come home (Luke 15, v20-24).  I have kept the best to the last; the father sees the boy coming home, he rushes to meet him.  “This my son was dead and is alive again, he was lost and is found.”  That’s goodness, that’s forgiveness.  It is a passage that resonates with every parent, especially fathers.

No matter how you regard yourself, no matter how strong or weak your faith, that story has a wonderful ring to it and for me it has always been a powerful encouragement.

For lacking goodness, I thank God for forgiveness.