NT Sermons

“Who do you think you are to speak to me like that?”

I’m sure you find yourself thinking that from time to time. Someone asks you to do something, offers you some advice. It’s not entirely welcome. And then you start to think: “Who is this person who’s talking to me? Why should I do what they say? Do they even know me well enough to give me this advice, or to boss me around?” “Who do you think you are?”

The past few weeks have been bewildering. Since the referendum, never mind a week, it’s felt like an hour is a long time in politics. It’s been unsettling, driven by two questions we can’t easily answer. “Who’s in charge?” David Cameron, Nigel Farage, Roy Hodgson, Chris Evans, all resigning, and Jeremy Corbyn’s position looking uncertain. An alien invasion was easily thwarted the other week. They landed in Great Britain, and asked to be taken to our leader. “Who’s in charge?”

What is the first thought that comes into your head when I mention the book of Revelation? We’re going to be looking at it for the next few weeks, so I wonder how that makes you feel?

A few folk here have not been coming to church for long, and quite possibly you’ve never heard of Revelation, or you’ve heard of it but know very little about it. If that’s you, you’re in for a treat. It’s a fantastic book, as I’m about to show us.

Is there such a thing as an unforgivable sin?

It’s a dreadful thing to do something so bad that it could never be forgiven.

There are certain things that our society treats as unforgiveable. Certain forms of abuse. Specific crimes from years back. Things that will leave the offenders tarred forever, standing no chance of ever integrating back into society again.

But what about with God? Is there anything that is so awful God could never forgive it?

Politicians don’t like to appear weak. They don’t like to run out of words, lose an argument, appear foolish to other people. If they do, they worry that people will think they are weak leaders. They’d never see their policies through. They’d never keep their promises.

Being religious is a very dangerous way to be.

That’s good news for some. From time to time I get talking to someone who tells me that they enjoy coming to our services even though they’re not very religious. If that’s you, then this is good news. Being religious can be a real stumbling block. A hurdle. And it’s a hurdle you don’t have this morning.

Anxiety is a growing problem in modern Britain. In 2013, 8.2 million people were diagnosed with some sort of serious anxiety problem. In any given week in England, 4.4% of the population experiences anxiety that is serious enough to seek professional help.

How does a person ever become a Christian?

That’s a question you might be asking if you’re here this morning, but you wouldn’t yet call yourself a Christian. You’re interested in the person of Jesus. He’s starting to make sense. But somehow, you’re not convinced. How do things come together enough so that you can take that first step of faith? How do you reach the point where you’re ready to sign up?

There’s no doubting it. Having young children is exhausting. Most parents of young children have a fairly long wish list; but rest is fairly high up the list for most of us.

The promise of rest

The Bible reading we had comes from Matthew chapter 11. If you’ve got the Bible open, just glance to the end of the chapter, the climax the chapter is heading to. Verse 28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” I defy any new parent to say to me that that is not immensely appealing.

Last Thursday was election day. Here in Kent we only elected the Police Commissioner, but other parts of the country saw local councils and mayors elected.

There are many problems in our country. Always have been. Unemployment. A creaking health service. Education policies. Environmental issues. We’re always on the lookout for someone who can step in and solve our problems. Preferably fix my problems.