Many, many years ago, when I finally passed my driving test, and was then permitted to drive my car without a man with a red flag walking in front of me, I was really pleased to cut up and bin my L plate ! Actually, I soon realised that I still had a lot to learn about driving - getting round Hyde Park Corner in London safely, driving on icy roads or in the snow in the countryside, whizzing along on motorways - there seemed no end to the things about which I had to find out.

We have been thinking about discipleship at St. Mary’s this Lent, and of course the word disciple means ‘ a learner ‘, from the Latin verb discere, and discipulus, a pupil. If we are to be disciples of Jesus Christ, we need to remember that we wear L plates always, and that the learning we are committed to takes an earthly lifetime and the time beyond that, when we have discarded the glass in which we see only darkly and find ourselves, by God’s grace, face to face with Him.
Many of us have been meeting up during Lent to discuss in small groups various aspects of our discipleship. It is encouraging and helpful to engage with other Christians in this way ; we gain insight into our own stumbling blocks and difficulties, and we are supported by our friends.

During our talks over meals and our study together, we often discover common ground, sometimes ground we have never personally trodden, and sometimes ground that is pitted with our doubts and fears, over which our fellow pilgrims can help us.

When we come to church, particularly to the Eucharist, we learn what it is like to be the Body of Christ on earth. We hear and learn from the Bible readings, we learn ( I hope ) from the sermon, and we join in singing praise to God in our hymns, which often teach us profound truths about our faith. We listen to music, too, written down the ages through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit - music which can lift our spirits, or speak, in beautiful sounds, truths for our learning that lie too deep for tears.

The adventure of coming to church - and it is an adventure - is that we learn from Christ’s words and deeds the secrets of life in the Spirit. This asks from us, and from our prayers, as Evelyn Underhill writes in The Light of Christ :‘ a great simplicity, self-oblivion, dependence and suppleness, a willingness and readiness to respond to life where it finds us and to wait, to grow and change, not according to our preconceived notions and ideas of pace, but according to the overruling will and pace of God.’

‘But the prayers in church are not like that for me !’ I hear someone say. ‘ They are somewhat cold and formal, and I feel left out and isolated.’ The set prayers of the Church at worship are a discipline ( a word related to discipleship ), a humbling of our occasionally rebellious natures. We do need, however, to venture forth and explore what prayer means for us - how we can express ourselves in many very different ways. A lot of churches, like St. Mary’s, offer services with differing emphases. Taizé chants may be the road to deeply felt prayer for you, or services of Contemplative Prayer, where silence conveys so much that brings us closer to God.

As true disciples, let us not be content to give up if we seem to fall at the first fence in our worship. We are taking on a huge task as we face our personal difficulties along the pilgrim road of prayer and service. If anyone tries to tell us that Christian discipleship is easy, he or she has never really engaged with it!

I have been reading a delightful book of Forty Meditations inspired by The Wind in the Willows, by Leslie J . Francis. Any idea that I am now old enough, wise enough or brave enough to ditch my L plate has been utterly cancelled by Episode 6 in this book :

The Rat and the Mole are sitting on the river-bank, each thinking his own thoughts. Mole turns to Rat and asks him a favour. Mole would very much like to call on and meet Mr. Toad. The Rat is a good-natured chap, and he immediately prepares the boat for a trip down the river.
James and John, the sons of Zebedee, ask Jesus a favour. They would like to be the ones to sit on His right and His left in the Kingdom of Glory. Jesus says to them : ‘ You do not know what you are asking for. Can you drink the cup of suffering that I must drink ?’

Following the description of the two favours asked, the writer presents the Meditation :Although the Rat prepares to oblige the Mole, he is actually very concerned about the wisdom of introducing his friend to Mr. Toad. He fears that it may be too much for Mole, and lead him into danger.

In the same vein, Jesus asks the two brothers if they are prepared to suffer, for He wishes to protect them. They accept willingly that their way may be dark and deadly, but they persevere.

The Rat takes the Mole off down the river with a heavy heart, but the Mole is sure he will be all right.

It is right for us, too, to be bold in our discipleship, and ask the questions that lead to life, to press for the favours which we sometimes unthinkingly demand. What we have to learn is that before sharing in the glory, we have to be prepared to share in danger and suffering, the road that Christ trod on earth, the lonely road that saw Him humiliated and put to a cruel death on the Cross. Very often, we do not really know what we, like James and John, are asking, even if we ask it in prayerful and committed devotion.

At the end of the booklet we have been using this morning, we read : Our worship is ended. Now the service begins.I like this healthy quotation from the writings of Dietrich Bonhoeffer: Sometimes we just need a firm kick in the pants. An unsmiling expectation that if we mean all these wonderful things we talk about and sing about, then lets see something to prove it.

I was sad to hear someone say just the other day that he was able to fit in Sunday church, but he was too busy to do anything much during the week. The sermons my colleagues have given you contain many examples of how we can live and move and have our being in week day service to God, our church, our families and our world-wide family. If we can fit in a visit to our church during the week as well as on Sunday, all well and good ; but since everything we do is worship and service, we need not wring our hands if we can’t get to Morning Prayer.

As we switch off our alarm clock in the mornings, we do not have to reach for our bibles and whizz through a large chunk of an Epistle ( while thinking actually about the day ahead, and fretting about what we should wear). Why don’t we just say to ourselves : This is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.

Sometimes we cannot rejoice - we have pressing problems, we are in pain from an illness, a friend has died - we can still quietly praise God, opening the window for a breath of fresh air and listening to the birds who never stop singing about the glory of God.

If, during the day, we fall out with someone, let us bless them as they turn their back on us in scorn. Blessing people is a wonderful way of getting rid of any irritation we may feel at the sometimes odd-seeming ways of others. Let us bless the trees and flowers on our way down the road, let us bless people who pass us looking strained and sorrowful, let us stand back in the shops to let someone in a hurry go in front of us, let us smile at those who serve us, and exchange a friendly word here and there. So many little things ! They are like drops of water falling in a great ocean, which seem insignificant, but actually really make a difference. And let us always be ready to give an account of the hope that is in us, the hope that, by the grace of God, will never leave us.

St. Francis de Sales, writing in the late 1500s, had this to say about our daily service to God : Do not scrutinize too closely whether you are doing much or little, ill or well, so long as what you do is not sinful and that you are heartily seeking to do everything for God. Try as far as you can to do everything well, but when it is done, do not think about it. Try, rather, to think of what is to be done next. Go on simply in the Lord’s way, and do not torment yourself. We ought to hate our faults, but with a quiet, calm hatred ; not pettishly and anxiously.

In our service, the greatest thing we have to learn is that Love is the key that unlocks all doors, and teaches us the Way of Christ. Good works, charitable giving, even martyrdom are not enough without the underpinning of Love, which can transform our days and spread the message of the Gospels like a steadily burning fire, moving with us to brighten and purify all that we think and do.

And what we do may not be great - we are not all going to do great things in this world, but, as Mother Theresa reminds us - we can do many small things with great love.

Amen

Jesus, by your Spirit in us, send us forth to the world, your disciples . . .

Amen

Amen