Well, welcome again for people who joined us, and if you're visitors here tonight, especially
! welcome, we're very glad to have you with us. Psalm 102, if you want to keep that open,
that might be useful, page 501. When Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II says in her Christmas
message, this year's been a bit bumpy, that's a bit of a royal understatement there, isn't
it? What she's really saying is that we've had a rough year, it feels. Every year brings
with it challenges, that's the nature of living in a fallen world, but we're not surprised
by that. Fortunately, it's also full of joys, isn't it? It's not all doom and gloom. Hopes
were realised, children born, crises averted, people came to faith. Pregnancy centres were
registered. But if you speak to people, it seems like many people are weary, worn down
by the increasing grind, the constant churn, by the incessant progress, quote-unquote, hurtling
forward at an unstoppable pace, it seems. The uncertainty of not knowing where we're heading
as a country, as a world, what's going to happen to the big questions of climate change
and the crisis, climate emergency, or how's Brexit going to pan out. Maybe for you it's
not those things. Maybe it's just that you're overwhelmed by the barrage of information that
comes at us these days, or the communication and obfuscation that comes at us all the time.
We've just been through an election campaign, there's been a lot of that. A think tank in the
US called it the fire hose of falsehood. They say it's an unremitting, high-intensity stream
of lies, partial truths and complete fictions spewed forth with tireless aggression to obfuscate
the truth and overwhelm and confuse anyone trying to pay attention. That can wear you out.
Perhaps it's just the fact that while everything seems to change, at some level nothing seems
to change. And life grinds on day after day. I think perhaps, you know, it's not the change
itself that is the big thing that wears us down. It's the uncertainty that comes with it.
This isn't a Brexit sermon, I promise you, it's just that that's kind of been in the news.
But I don't know if you noticed how all of the businesses were saying eventually, you know,
we don't care what's going to happen, just tell us what's going to happen so we can make
a plan. Don't care if we stay or leave, just tell us. We need certainty. We're paralyzed
by the uncertainty. We can't make decisions. We can't plan. We can't take control of our
destinies. Maybe paraphrase a bit there at the end, but, you know, that's really what
they're after. That's what we're after, I'd argue. We want to, we need to, at some level,
be in control of our lives. That's what so much of our lives are spent trying to get, control,
because we're hardwired for having certainty, really. And that's where it goes all wrong, isn't it?
One translation of Romans 8, 21 has, and the hope is that in the end the whole of created
life will be rescued from the tyranny of change and decay. Everything changes. That's the nature
of living in space and time. And there was a time when that was all going to be good. And
we had certainty of a good world and a good creation living with God. And then it all went
wrong when we tried to make our own decisions and take matters into our own hands and gain
control. And now we're not the masters of change anymore. And we feel it, don't we?
The change can be a good thing. We know change isn't all bad. Adam and Eve were meant to change
the world as they went about subduing and cultivating it. That was always part of the plan.
And there's a truth even just on a very simple level in that old adage, isn't it, that you
can't cross the same river twice. We inevitably change the world whatever we do. We want to
feel like we've made a difference in our work. And that's so often what people struggle with
in their own work, that they feel like, if I didn't do this job, then it wouldn't have
mattered at all. We want to see good change in what we do. And often in a world full of
sorrow and pain and suffering, we should strive to see more change than the world. It's not
all bad. But I think what we're talking about here is not that kind of change, is it? It's
the kind of change that's outside of our control. The change is forced upon us. Sometimes just
by the biological fact of getting older. There's a time when you want to be older. And because
you're going to go to secondary school, and you're going to uni, and all the life, the world's your oyster.
And then there's a time when you don't want to grow older anymore. Or it's a world that changes
morally and ethically beyond what we recognize. Or a world that sometimes seems to grow more hostile
day by day towards Christians. One of the greatest sources of distress for Christians today, isn't it,
is the increasing hostility towards anything that smells of Christian values in the public sphere?
The world has changed in that way. And in the new year, there's probably going to be another push
to liberalize abortion even further, just like it's been in Northern Ireland. Change might be good,
but change isn't always good. And our psalmist here understands the feeling of change, uncertainty,
and how wearying that is, isn't he? He's not in a good way, is he? Physically and emotionally,
he's stretched, it feels like, to the limits of human ability to withstand.
Verse 3, he feels like his days pass away like smoke and his bones burn like a furnace. He's physically
not well. And he's so occupied with that mental and physical distress he can't even eat. Verse 4,
he's isolated and he feels cut off from the world, like there's no one who understands,
like he's a desert owl in the wilderness. He can't sleep. And he feels, to be frank, abandoned by God.
I think when we listen to that, it's a case of tick all that apply. For some of us, it might be more of
those things than we even realize. The person sitting in the row next to you might have more things to tick off
there than you realize. But all of us can associate with some of those feelings, at least some of the time.
He's got wave after wave of uncertainty and change coming over him. It's a tsunami of uncertainty, really.
You know, if we think about it, when there's something physically wrong with us, isn't it? You know,
when we go to the doctor and people struggle to find a diagnosis of what is wrong, even when it's a
serious diagnosis, that certainty of knowing what it is that is wrong is a relief. It's the uncertainty
that's often even worse than knowing what is wrong with us. And when we know something can be done about
it, we can make plans. But it's the uncertainty that gets to us. He has many things that are outside
of his control, buffeting him. And he is worn down to the point of not wanting to live anymore.
And we don't know what all those individual troubles are for the psalmist.
And I think in a sense that's not what's important. We know some of those feelings.
And we know where he looks to for certainty, for stability, for help. This morning Paul spoke about
how no matter what happens in this new year, we know it is in God's sovereign and providential control.
And we can trust in that. The question is why? Why can we trust in God's sovereign control over
things? Why can we trust in God even though we know things are going to change, we don't know what's
coming. Why can we trust in God's sovereign control over things? Why can we trust in God when we can't trust in
our own decisions, our own resolutions and our own promises?
That's the question that the psalmist answers. People look in various different places and
look to answer that question in different ways to deal with the state of uncertainty that we're always in.
You're starting with the only slightly facetious. You know, that seminal Christmas movie,
Love Actually, Hugh Grant's prime minister character does a monologue at the beginning. And he says,
whenever I start to get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow airport.
For him, the answer is to rely on love, to rely on other people's love. That is where we find certainty and stability in a world that often seems like it's falling apart.
The problem with that is he's also editing out the toddlers who are coming off a 12-hour flight,
and the people with their lost luggage, and the people trying to find Hugh the birth.
And love can be fickle.
Another way is we might try and find certainty and control in making plans for the next year.
You might be one of those super organized people who've sat down, taken stock of the last year,
written up priorities for next year, and allocated each of those different areas of your life, different levels of focus and priority,
and then subdivided that into different categories, and then your three top priorities, and allocated time in your week for each of those.
Or you might only be doing that next year.
By the way, if you plan on stopping procrastinating, then I'll join you next week.
But, you know, we try and get control and certainty by making plans.
You know, we look to political solutions for the big problems.
And to be honest, I think that's a big part of what the problem was with this last year,
is people look to politics to solve things that it can't,
and look to people to solve issues that people will have imperfect solutions to always.
But it is difficult.
Just loving relationships and making plans and strategizing and being responsible,
they're not bad things in themselves, are they?
But we've got to realize they're never going to give us the certainty we're after.
We're always going to miss the point.
And, upon reflection, putting us, changeable creatures,
who live in space and enduring time, as someone says,
at the center of finding stability,
is probably not the best idea after all.
So the question is, where does the psalmist go,
when there seems to be no certainty and no hope,
when he's at his wit's end?
And what's quite striking is he doesn't go to any of those standard bolt holes
in our arsenal against change and uncertainty, does he?
And what's really interesting is when you read on in this psalm,
that uncertainty, that change from the situation that Israel had before,
the state that he longs for when God dwelled with Israel in the temple
and when Zion wasn't destroyed before the exile,
is really at the heart of his distress.
He looks beyond himself in a way that is probably a good example for us.
Whatever he's feeling personally,
whatever other emotional and physical distress and worry and uncertainty
he's facing in his own life,
his concern about God's honor is actually where most of his focus is at.
If 2019 was a bumpy year,
as our Sovereign Lady rightly said,
then heads up,
don't be surprised if 2020 has more speed bumps,
aggressive speed bumps,
than a newly resurfaced West Ealing suburban street.
Unfortunately, it's a good thing that people turn to God
when there's uncertainty and change, isn't it?
After 9-11 and after the financial crash,
churches in New York and London were full.
They overflowed.
The sad thing that comes with that is,
unfortunately for many people,
the solution to a changing attitude
towards the church, towards God,
towards Christian values,
and even indeed Christians,
is that we must become more relevant.
We must become more relevant,
you know, to reach people,
whatever that means.
That means so many different things for different people.
For some people, that means the gospel must change
and we must bring a new gospel for a new era.
If the world is changing,
then God must change with us.
We need a new God, a different God,
a God who responds to our needs and our desires.
I was really struck by a piece I read the last couple of days
in The Guardian.
The Guardian does have good things as well,
where the writer talks about how churches
should follow the models of many cathedrals.
That seems to be a me-centered, one-stop shop,
he says, of therapy and community.
That's what people need.
The answer to a longing for congregation,
the cathedral's answer to a longing for congregation
and communal space.
The key is a quality unfashionable to social analysis.
The offer of solitude with beauty.
You need not be of faith to sit quietly
and contemplate the loveliness of a cathedral.
As the dean once hinted to me in a whisper,
here we don't bang on about God.
The sociologist Grace Davey described a cathedral
as a vicarious religion.
Somewhere an individual can be private,
undisturbed and uplifted by architecture and music.
They are psychotherapy in glass and stone.
Now, unfortunately,
if we think that creating a calm space for ourselves
is going to solve our need for certainty and stability
in an inherently uncertain and changing world,
then that writer's got another thing coming.
So we can't block out the uncertainty and the change
and the hostility in the world forever.
And the psalmist doesn't go there either.
He finds his hope, doesn't he,
in an entirely different way.
I don't know if you saw that,
but for him it's the fact that God doesn't change
that gives all the hope.
In contrast to that cathedral dean
who says we don't bang on about God,
for the psalmist, it's all about God.
And it's all about a God who doesn't change.
And that's a very counter-cultural thing for us to do,
to find our trust in a God who doesn't change.
But it was in those days, too, to be honest,
when all the cultures around Israel had gods
that you could change.
When you were tired of one, you got a new one.
When one didn't seem to work anymore,
you got another nation's gods
because they seemed to be working.
You could swap them around like football cards.
And he gets things back in perspective
when he realizes that
while God's able to take him out of this life,
God's years endure throughout all the generations.
God, he says,
will outlast the foundations of the earth.
He will outlast the heavens.
I don't know if you knew this,
but Mount Etna,
the volcano outside Sicily,
is actually sliding into the ocean
at a rate of about 14 millimeters a year.
Now, don't be entirely worried just yet.
It's going to take about 100,000 years at that pace
for it to slide into the Mediterranean Sea.
And I think it might cause a tsunami.
Mount Etna,
that's caused destruction
over centuries,
is sliding into the ocean.
I don't know.
I hope this doesn't come as news to you,
but God is going to outlast Mount Etna.
There's a qualitative difference
between us and God, isn't there?
And the rest of creation and God.
We change.
The world we live in changes.
And since the fall,
much of that change isn't good.
But it isn't so with God.
The fact that God doesn't change
is good news.
Because it means this God who is love,
this God who has promised
mercy and forgiveness
to those who return to him,
that this Lord God
who made a covenant with his people
to be their God
and for them to be his people,
who promised a saviour for his people,
and who promised that
no one that he gave to his son
will fall away,
it means that God will not
and cannot break those promises.
We can't trust in our own resolutions.
I don't know if you're
going to the gym next week.
We'll see how that goes
by the end of January.
We get promises by politicians.
We'll see how much we can rely on that.
But we need a God
that we can trust in
who doesn't change.
And we need that
more than just
for our day-to-day needs
for the next year.
Malachi talks of a day
when God will deal
decisively
with the brokenness
and the change
in this world,
doesn't he?
Malachi writes
a prophecy from God.
He says,
I will draw near to you
for judgment.
There will be a swift witness
against the sorcerers,
against the adulterers,
against those who swear falsely,
against those who oppress
the hired worker
and his wages,
the widow and the fatherless,
against those
who thrust aside
the sojourner
and do not fear me,
says the Lord of hosts.
For I, the Lord,
do not change.
Therefore,
you,
O children of Jacob,
are not consumed.
Now that,
that last bit
seems to come out
of the blue a bit,
doesn't it?
I mean,
we know God
is not going to let
injustice by
without action,
no matter how
the world looks.
And that's a great
source of comfort
as the world seems
uncertain and unjust
in so many ways.
You know,
we know that God
is going to deal with it
because he does not change.
He's the same just
and righteous God
for always.
But he says,
because he doesn't
change,
we won't be
consumed.
Because he doesn't
change,
he won't forget
his promise of mercy
to us.
Yeah,
and the glory
of the Christian
doctrine
of God
is that
it is the
unchangeable one
who is
in control
of all the change
in the universe.
He is
who he is,
isn't he?
Not
who he might
become with us.
Yeah,
to wrongly
paraphrase
Hebrews 6 a bit,
it's not
that he swore
by himself
so that,
so let us
hold relatively
tightly
to the hope
we profess
because he
who promised
probably won't
let us down.
That
wouldn't be
any hope
at all.
No.
A changing,
uncertain world
needs a God
who does not
change.
The amazing
thing is,
God doesn't
need us.
He's perfect
and he's always
been.
So,
any change
in God
would be a
change for the
worse.
God
isn't a
creature
like us.
He isn't
an inanimate
object that
doesn't
change.
When we say
God doesn't
change,
it's not
like we
think of a
table or a
chair or
something that
stays the
same day
after day,
dead.
No,
he's life
itself,
isn't he?
He's utterly
perfect,
utterly alive.
And he
is his
mercy and
his love
and his
forgiveness
and his
justice and
his
trustworthiness.
He is all
of those
things,
always,
totally.
He's more
alive than
we can think
of being
alive.
Even when
we talk about
God,
even at some
level,
it's even
like our
language starts
to strain,
our language
stops being
able to
talk about
how God
really is,
more than
we can
imagine.
He is,
for the
lack of a
better term,
the most
mostest.
And if he
had to
change,
he wouldn't
be.
And here
at Christmas
time,
we remember
the gift of
Jesus Christ,
it's good to
remember James
1 as well,
where he says
every good
gift and
every perfect
gift is from
above,
coming down
from the
Father of
lights,
with whom
there is no
variation or
shadow due
to change.
this very
source of
stability that
the psalmist
turns to,
this perfect
gift from
God,
Jesus Christ,
is what the
writer of
Hebrews talks
about when he
talks about the
Son of God,
when he talks
about why the
Son of God is
more perfect than
angels.
He quotes these
verses from
Psalm 102.
At the end
there,
he says,
in Hebrews
1,
he says,
And you,
the Lord,
laid the
foundation of
the earth in
the beginning,
and the heavens
are the work
for your hands.
They will
perish,
but you
remain,
they will
all wear
out like
a garment.
Like a robe,
you will roll
them up.
Like a garment,
they will be
changed,
but you are
the same,
and your
years will
have no
end.
That is the
Son of God
who was born
as a person,
as a human
being,
God and
man at
Christmas.
It is
right at
Christmas time
that we talk
about how
God became
man.
How the
Son of God,
the second
person of
the Trinity,
took a human
nature as
well to
him.
A changeable,
changing human
nature.
He grew up
through being
a toddler,
and being a
child,
and becoming
a human
being.
He had
human emotions
as well.
But maybe
we will do
well to
remember that
it is the
unchanging
God who
did that.
And that
he came
into this
world of
uncertainty,
this world
of tyranny,
of change
and decay,
so that he
will be that
unchanging
hope that
we need.
he's still
the internal
unchangeable
God who
will accomplish
his plans to
save a people
for himself
from all
nations.
What's really
fascinating is
when the
psalmist looks
beyond his
own knees,
when he
looks to
who God
is,
he sees
how there's
a point
where all
nations will
come to
Jerusalem.
There's a
point that
is beyond
what he's
known,
a change
from before,
but a good
change.
He's looking
with certainty
to a time
when all
the nations
will come
to Jerusalem,
when a new
thing will
happen,
when all
the people
and kingdoms
coming to
Jerusalem
will be
there to
worship God.
And that
change
started to
happen when
the unchanging
God came
into this
world to
become one
of us.
A changing
uncertain
world doesn't
need more
change.
It needs,
it doesn't
need a more
relevant church
which doesn't
bang on about
God.
The nations
will come to
Christ, the
rock of our
salvation, because
he is the
unchangeable,
eternal God.
A changing
uncertain
world needs a
God who
doesn't change,
the God
we can
depend on,
that same
God who
came to
rescue us.
Your plans
for next
year, for
your life,
might not
last the
next week,
or month,
or year,
but those
things aren't
the things that
are going to
give you
certainty.
It's not
going to come
from politics,
it's not
going to come
from Twitter,
from your
school results.
Do work
hard at school
though, or
going through
the motions
at church.
Those things
all change.
The question
for you and
me is, are
we going to
rely on changing
things this
coming year, or
are we going to
rely on the
unchanging God?
Amen.