Fighting racial inequality starts with our own education and awareness but it cannot end there.  It requires that we actively seek to confront unjust structures in society.  In an increasingly polarised world in which far right activists link Britishness with whiteness this can feel overwhelming yet Proverbs 31:8-9 commands us simply to speak out and defend others.

We have a great Diocesan Safeguarding Team, excellent Parish Safeguarding Officers (Nicola and Zoe) and all of us who volunteer or lead are required to undergo checks and receive thorough Safeguarding training; yet, as 1 Corinthians 13:1-8a reminds us, if we have “all these things but do not have love we gain nothing”.

Not all of us are called to an official role in the church but we are ALL called to love and more than this, we are commanded to love, John 13:34-35, as Jesus loves us, without exception, without limits, without partiality.

Sadly, these readings have often been used to encourage those who have been wounded or harmed by the church to forgive and forget.  But love requires that truth is spoken and justice is served. 

Today is the feast of St Michael and All Angels.  Angels are God’s messengers and in both of our readings this morning they move between heaven and earth.

Jacob dreams of them going up and down a ladder in Genesis 28:10-17 and, although God promises to be with him wherever he goes, Jacob believes that the gate of heaven is in this particular place.

However, when Jesus meets Nathaniel in John 1:47-51, he describes himself as the ladder joining heaven and earth.  The place where heaven and earth meet is not a holy place as envisaged by Jacob but is a living, breathing human being.  

“The story of workers in the vineyard, in Matthew 20:1-16, is my all-time favourite parable because I need to be reminded that it’s not about me!

Of course, the workers who have “borne the burden of the day and endured the scorching heat” are furious when those “who worked only one hour” get paid the same amount.

Just as the prophet, in Jonah 3:10-4:11, is furious that God is prepared to show “abounding and steadfast love” to his enemies as well as to him.

We know that everything we are and everything we have is a gift from God.  Yet we still act as if we must earn God’s grace and we still get annoyed when God is equally gracious to those who have clearly done nothing to earn it.    

“How many times must I forgive my brother, as many as seven times?” Both readings this morning take issue with our need to count the cost of forgiveness.

In Genesis 50:15-21, Joseph’s brothers are afraid that Joseph will seek to “pay us back in full for all the wrong we did.”  Whereas in Matthew 18:21-35, Peter wants to know the exact number of times he must forgive.  When Jesus replies 77 times (or 7 times 70) he is not stipulating a higher number, he is ridiculing the very idea of keeping count. 

In the parable he tells the slave owes the king 10,000 talents, an impossible number, a way of saying that, if we were counting, we would not reach the end of the numbers: it could be billions, trillions, gazillions.  The point is that if God is keeping score, then we’re all doomed.

But God doesn’t count. 

Jesus says, “if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven”.  Which would be great if we ever agreed on anything.

Today’s gospel, Matthew 18:15-20, does not seem like a great advertisement for the church community: a bunch of people pointing out each other’s faults and snitching on one another.  But it is at least honest about one thing, being in community is hard work.  The church is full of troublesome people and sometimes the troublesome people are us.  Yet community is also where we thrive, where we find support and guidance, where we learn and grow.  

Last week Peter was at the top of the class for declaring that Jesus was indeed the son of God.  But this week, in Matthew 16:21-28, he is down at the bottom for failing to understand what it meant for Jesus to be the Christ.

The disciples have experienced miracles and wonders; they have been taught how to build a community that mirrors the kingdom of God.  Now they are learning that this work comes at a cost as Jesus shares the news of his suffering and death. 

Peter like Jeremiah, in our first reading Jeremiah 15:15-21, wants to know why suffering is necessary, do we have to struggle, must we lose our life in order to save it?

“On this rock I will build my church”.  But which rock, exactly, is Jesus talking about in Matthew 16:13-20?  We assume that he means Peter because he has just given the right answer (and because his name means stone).  But, in next week’s gospel, that same Peter will be called a stumbling block; still a rock but this time one that is in the way rather than a sure and strong foundation.

The particular rock on which Jesus and his disciples are standing is that of Caesarea Philippi.  A place where God’s people had been tested before. A place where they had been asked to put their allegiance to the Roman Empire above their allegiance to God.  A place where, those who chose God, faced defeat and death.  A place where they were tested.

This conversation takes place just before Jesus predicts his own defeat and death. 

It’s not about us.  It never was.

After the return from exile, the people of God had fierce debates about how to build their future.  For some (e.g. Ezra and Nehemiah), it was all about them, they wanted to be holy, pure and observant and they wanted to include only other holy, pure and observant people in the new Israel.  For Isaiah 56:1, 6-8, it was not about us, it was about God.  In our first reading the prophet argues passionately for God’s inclusion of all people: “Thus says the Lord God, who gathers the outcasts of Israel, I will gather others to them besides.”

Who was in and who was out, who was worthy and who unworthy continued to be a source of debate.