There’s always time, I tell myself. I spent a full day last week trying and failing to deal with the papers on my desk, the list of people I needed to phone or visit, the bills I should have paid, the lawn that needed mowing, stuff in the garden I’d not quite got round to planting out yet. It didn’t all get done, not by a long way. But maybe I’ll have time to catch up tomorrow. And if things are a bit behind at the moment, I’m OK, there are some windows in my diary next week. Stuff may have built up a bit, but I’m sure it’ll all get cleared, given time.
But maybe there isn’t always time. I need to spend a bit of time looking at priorities, learning to use my time better. Last Wednesday those of us looking at the Lord’s Prayer were thinking about the bit that goes ‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done.’ But how seriously do we consider those words when we say them? Bishop Stephen Cotterell, in the introduction to the week two session on the Lord’s Prayer, said quite bluntly I thought that we shouldn’t think of praying for anything we’re not also committing ourselves to work for. I guess that applies to the Lord’s Prayer itself as much as any of the other prayers we make. So what is the kingdom and how do we work for it to come?
One day we shall all feast in the kingdom of God. So it’s something to look forward to, then. It’ll happen one day, all in God’s good time. Yes, but not just that. When Jesus talks about the kingdom he’s talking about now, about something urgent, about a priority for our deciding and for our living.
While we might think of kingdoms in geographical terms, as having acreage and borders and boundaries, in Biblical terms a kingdom is wherever the king is honoured and served, without much regard to geography. So the kingdom of God is close to us wherever acts of love put right what is wrong, or heal what’s hurt, or forgive what is amiss: wherever the majesty of the King of Love is honoured, wherever his will is done.
It may find its fulfilment in heaven, and beyond that gate we call the death of the body, but the people of God are to proclaim the kingdom of God here and now, and that’s not just a matter of words but of deeds, of how we live in community together, and how we reach out to those who need to know God’s love. And if there is feasting in the kingdom to come, we don’t get an entry to that feast until we respond in the here and now to the invitation Jesus gives us.
Statistics published last week state that across the UK 48% of the population now defines itself as having no faith, up from, I think, 25% at the last census. An atheist friend of mine was very quick to celebrate that on Facebook, noting that the various sorts of Christian added together came to less than that. Interestingly, virtually all the increase in those with (quote) no faith seemed to come from a decline in those who labelled themselves C of E. It’s a big decline, but mostly made up of people who used to put “C of E” without really thinking, and who never actually went to church. It may even have to do with how the question was phrased. But it’s still a concern.
Christians do get labelled as boring, as spoilsports, and as outdated, illiberal, Bible bashers who are out of touch with the modern world. Given the way the Church sometimes acts, it’s not always easy to mount a convincing defence against that sort of claim. But when I look at the Jesus of our Gospels, surely to follow this man shouldn’t ever mean to be dull or boring, shouldn’t ever mean not enjoying life, or being closed-minded and illiberal. But it is about getting things right in life.
I love the encounter in this morning’s Gospel reading. The centurion was a man who knew authority when he saw it. He had a quality of faith many of us could learn from. “Just say the word,” he says to Jesus. Just say the word, and I know my servant will be cured.
That is kingdom faith. Expressed by a man who knew about holding authority, giving orders, establishing priorities, getting things done. Which brings me back to where I started, with my untidy desk and untidy life, and my list of things I’ve not got round to yet. Hidden in all of that is a bit of procrastination, if I’m honest. It’s easy to find excuses for putting off the important but challenging things, by doing all the easy and trivial stuff first. It leaves you feeling good because you’ve been busy; except - what’s really been achieved?
I remember this helpful illustration from a training day with the theme of managing time and priorities. The speaker took a big glass jar and a pile of pebbles, and he filled the jar with pebbles. ‘How much more can I get in?’ he asked. ‘Nothing,’ we replied; but of course he could. He got some gravel, and managed to get quite a lot of that in between the pebbles. Well, we knew the jar was full then - except that he got some sand, and there was room for that too, in between the gravel. And then he took a jug of water, and he was able to pour that in too.
‘What does that prove?’ he asked, and we decided he’d proved that you can get more into a jar than you might think - so maybe also more into a day, or more into a diary. ‘That may be true,’ he told us, ‘but the real message from the jar is about how to get so much in: how to establish priorities. To start the other way round, beginning with the little stuff, would leave me not getting a single one of the big stones into the jar.’
I’m exactly the wrong person to lecture anyone on priorities, even from the cosy perch of retirement. My desk is still untidy and the most important thing is whatever’s on top of the pile, or in the forefront of my mind, at the time. Unless it’s something difficult or tedious like my tax return, for example, in which case I’ll probably find something else to do first.
Remember the man Jesus asked to follow him who would have done, except that he had five yoke of oxen to try out first? What would be the equivalent of that for you and me? Well, at least we’re here, and that’s a start! We’ve been praying for the evangelisation of our nation, and that’s an urgent and important prayer. But that can only begin with the evangelisation of me, with me getting my priorities right. Jesus says, ‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God.’ Not, seek it when you’ve got the time, when you’ve got the other stuff sorted. Actually, the way you do all the other stuff begins with seeking the kingdom, begins with our saying yes to God, allowing him to Lord in all of our life.
Kingdom living is about getting our priorities right in life - doing the right things, and doing things in the right order. Get the pebbles into your jar first. And, remember, kingdom people are invited to a feast, to something that should be good, of which this table in church of a Sunday is a foretaste and a promise. The mission of the Church requires of us this: that we are eager ourselves to live kingdom lives, allowing God to reign, and then, in acts and words that reflect and channel his love, eager to pass on his invitation to the world.
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