Seek him that maketh the seven stars and Orion and turneth the shadow of death into the morning.

Much of the gospel of Matthew depicts the growing tension between Jesus and the Jewish religious leadership of his time, especially in the person of the Pharisees. While this theme is not absent from any of the four gospels, it has a particular resonance in Matthew, the tone of which suggests that the context of this particular gospel may well have been set in a community of Jewish Christians which had separated very painfully from the synagogue, given how much opprobrium is directed at the ‘scribes and Pharisees’ nearer the end of the gospel.

The section of the gospel read as our second reading depicts the split with a painful and clear dichotomy – one that might have felt all the more poignant if we had heard the verses immediately preceding. For the very last verses of chapter eleven present us with Jesus at his most consoling, inviting all those who are ‘weary and carrying heavy burdens’ to come to him for rest. And then, so Matthew tells us, ‘At that time’  – at that very time – Jesus finds himself going through the cornfields, needing to satisfy the weary burden of human hunger – only to have the Pharisees accuse him of breaking God’s law.

And that’s not an accusation which plays well with Jesus, who has left behind the ‘gentle and humble’ persona depicted only a few verses earlier. As is often the case, when Jesus has an argument about the Law thrust at him, he gives back as good as he gets – indeed, he gives back rather better, throwing a line from Hosea at those who would condemn him, to top off a legal counter-argument in which he emerges as the victor.

Seek him that maketh the seven stars…

And that’s not enough. With a very clear sense of the growing division and enmity, Matthew tells us that Jesus then enters their synagogue (that possessive pronoun telling us all we need to know about the level of tension and division now in the air). And here the stakes are raised – raised from hunger to sickness and deformity. “Is it lawful to cure on the sabbath?”, they demand…. and, again, Jesus gives those who love to uphold the Law a lesson on what it might mean, properly, to do just that.

A lecture, and an action, that leave them conspiring ‘how to destroy him’. An attitude that simply encourages Jesus to cure ‘all’ of the ‘crowds’ that have begun to follow him, in the context of which Matthew aligns Jesus for us with that famous but shadowy figure from second Isaiah – the Suffering Servant – whose service and compassion for all people will enlighten the nations and bring justice to all.

Seek him that maketh the seven stars…

It is good – very good – this evening, to welcome members of York Medical Society to join us at this service, worshipping here at the Minster, as is their custom, on the Sunday following the feast day of St Luke, labeled in the New Testament as being the ‘beloved physician’.

Founded in 1832, the Society, so its website explains, exists to offer medical professionals ‘an environment removed from the workplace, and a rare opportunity to socialize across specialities in relaxed surroundings’. For those of us not privileged to belong to this wonderful body, I can reveal that in the coming weeks, they will be having a talk about the history of the universe; a talk on the state of nature in North Yorkshire; a Christmas wreath-making workshop; and – I am most envious to report – both a wine-tasting for the imminent festive season, and also (most dear to my heart) a whisky tasting.

One would have to be living with one’s head in the clouds not to be aware of the many pressures that the medical profession faces in the current climate. The extraordinary years of the pandemic (in which, so appropriately, we stood on the streets to applaud the NHS), and the challenging economic reality this nation faces does not, I suspect, make the working life of our guests this evening always feel a bundle of laughs. So it is good that they model for themselves and the rest of us, the need to find that bigger picture in which they can relax, they can form friendships beyond their immediate work environment, in which they can grow, and in which, perhaps, they can even Seek him that maketh the seven stars.

Our medics are not the only group gathered here this evening who meet together regularly for reasons that blend vocational activity with relaxation, and – at least in some cases – the chance to sample the odd alcoholic beverage. Some of you may be aware that our visiting choir this weekend is the choir which formed me both as a musician and as a Christian. In my school days the director of this choir was also the Director of Music at a nearby grammar school, and it was his rather heavy-handed suggestion that persuaded me to darken the doors of a church for the first time in my life, and I guess you could say that it ‘took’, and after a mere 18 years of singing in Kingston I found myself moving onwards to theological college, to do my own seeking of the one that maketh the seven stars, and here I am today.

Of course, when I joined All Saints choir back in 1975, Jonathan Dove’s uplifting anthem that we have just heard was still some twenty years in the future, for he is a mere three years older than I am. So it is not a work I have ever had the pleasure of singing myself, but I am deeply grateful that it was chosen to round off this weekend of choral excellence by my old friends. For, in Mr Dove’s choice of text, we have the challenge that is at the heart of our second reading, and – indeed – I think we have the challenge of how we live out our entire lives encapsulated in just two well-chosen verses of scripture – verses that tell us to Seek him that maketh the seven stars.

Conflict dogs and divides the communities of the world, and even those communities that strive to be religious, explicitly following God’s command and God’s call, are far from immune, as that portion of Matthew shows us so clearly. In about a month’s time, our politicians will be debating Kim Leadbeater’s private member’s bill to legalise assisted dying. In addition to the debate and division I imagine we will see on the floor of the House of Commons, I am quite certain that the rooms of the York Medical Society, and many other spaces occupied by healthcare professionals will be divided by this debate – as, most certainly, will be many parts of the church of God (only yesterday, the deans of England’s cathedrals, were being asked to sign a letter on this subject). People will not agree, and it is possible heated words will be exchanged as law, vocation and ethics mix together in a complex fashion.

And that is just one topical and clear instance of why it is important to hear the call of that glorious anthem to which we have just listened, which encourages us to emulate Jesus in working out properly and fully (by which I mean doing so much more than just quoting a particular legal formula) that God would have us do in the living out of our lives and the challenges we will face.

That is why it is, truly, so important to seek the maker of the seven stars and Orion, for it is only God who possesses the gift that ‘turneth the shadow of death into the morning’. That’s not always easy to do – far from it – for in truth, despite Matthew’s bitter depiction of them, I am sure the Pharisees were keen to obey and follow God, even though they disagreed so violently with Jesus. But it is only when, in fellowship with those around us, whether in societies, in choirs, or in any other walk of life into which God calls us – it is only when we respond to that call to seek the maker of those seven stars that we will find ourselves able to say (and perhaps even to sing) yea, the darkness shineth as the day, the night is light about me. Amen.