And so the question for us, as followers of Jesus, is how do we need to die – what do we need to lay down or renounce or accept – so that we can enter into eternal life – not in some otherworldly afterlife but this very day and every day to come?

This is what Lent is about – preparing ourselves for this work of self-giving AND of resurrection – it is a journey to the cross and the tomb and through to the promised Easter garden.

And through is the only way to get there. There can be no resurrection if there is no death.

Jesus may have been the one who was outwardly transfigured but it was Peter and James and John who were changed by what was revealed on that mountaintop, called to go beyond what they knew and embrace Jesus in a more complete way; to listen to him and obey his instruction to take up their own cross and journey with him down the mountain.

Readiness for a new beginning is, perhaps, the most remarkable thing about Simeon – even more remarkable than his faithfulness in waiting or his ability to recognize the Messiah in the unlikely form of the baby Jesus. He was able to release what was finished and embrace the new beginning that God had prepared; to lay down his previous role with grace and humility and hope.

But it is enough for Mary to understand that she is being asked to serve her God and her people; to participate in something worth the risk; a new chapter in the story of God’s promises. She doesn’t know everything she is saying “yes” to – but she knows who is asking and she is brave and bold and strong so she says “yes”, giving her whole self – body and soul and reputation – to the fulfilment of God’s story.

God has cast down the mighty and lifted up the lowly; God does cast down the mighty and lift up the lowly; God will cast down the mighty and lift up the lowly.

These are declarations of faith and they are powerful. They have sustained people in moments of crisis and over generations of struggle. But declarations of faith are not intended purely for comfort or sustenance. They are intended to shape lives; to direct attention and action in accordance with that faith.

Jesus’ story reveals that the king, sitting in judgement over the nations, was not watching from afar and was not simply travelling with the righteous but was with those the righteous cared for. That is the vantage point from which the king watched the world – this is the centre from which all else flows.

The strangeness of this parable lies in the dissonance between the story and what Jesus usually teaches about wealth and reward in the Kingdom of God… …which should make us suspect that this parable isn’t actually about wealth – and may not be about the Kingdom of God, either.

So what, then, might it be about?

A brief reflection on the Greatest Commandment before the congregation entered into a lively discussion amongst themselves.

This is what true Thanksgiving does. It changes us at a deeper level than our skin. It acknowledges our true nature as creatures radically dependent on God in times of plenty as well as in times of want. It refocuses our concerns and our desires and our commitments from the things we have or the things we wish we have to the One to whom we belong and on whom we can rely.