Hark, the glad sound - the Saviour comes!

Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost (Ezekiel 37: 11b) The roof is ribs of stone with no lungs to loose them, no hammer to prize fossilised saints from the cliffs, no spark to make the stone-carved stars shine. If there were angels in the architecture they too are petrified. Visitors pause admiring the arches, commending the craft yet not seeing (not saying?) there is no life here. No. Life is buried here. Fossils are not extinct, but frozen captive in cold stone. There is a hammer to set the saints free, to make the stars shine. I cannot wield it. I do not grieve for death, I grieve that I cannot stir life. I wait for resurrection. As it is written: Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. These bones shall live. These ribs shall rise. This place shall breathe and carry me on its breath.

Sermon preached at Lincoln Cathedral, Candlemas 04/02/18 Micah 3: 1-5 Hebrews 2: 14-end Luke 2: 22-40 +May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our salvation. Picture the scene when Mary, Joseph and Jesus arrive at the Temple. To start with, it’s impressive. Like the cathedral, it’s up on a hill – the Temple Mount. And it was a huge building. You could see it for miles. It was new, as well – in fact, it was still being finished. So when Mary and Joseph went in, it would have given them the same feelings of awe and wonder that visitors to the cathedral experience – perhaps more. There were no other buildings of the same scale as the Jerusalem Temple in the country. The Temple was constructed as a series of courtyards. First you entered the Court of the Gentiles, and from there you went into the Court of the Women. Next was the Court of the Israelites, then the Court of the Priests. Fi...