Sermon - The Symbolism of Advent Sunday

Time Death and Judgement by George Frederick Watts (now hanging in St Giles-in-the-Fields)

A sermon given during Holy Communion following the Baptism of Nicola Pitts on the First Sunday in Advent at St Giles-in-the-Fields on 1st December 2024 based on readings from Romans 13.8-14 and Matthew 21.1-13.

Drawing on the changing symbolism in the art of George Frederick Watts, whose work hangs in St Giles-in-the-Fields to explore the Prayer Book readings for the First Sunday in Advent.

Born in 1817 on the same day as Handel - and named after him - the “poet painter” George Frederick Watts became known as “England’s Michelangelo”. 

Put off organised religion as a child by his sabbatarian father’s suffocatingly strict Sunday routine, Watts nevertheless portrayed religious themes in his artwork throughout his adult life. A master of symbolism, he sought to depict the essence of faith through allegory. “I paint ideas, not things” he said. “My intention is less to paint works that are pleasing to the eye than to suggest great thoughts which will speak to the imagination and the heart and will arouse all that is noblest and best in man.” 

An ogreish, bulbous and rouge depiction of Mammon seated on a throne of human skulls is his reaction to the dehumanising effects of Victorian industrialisation. 

His depiction of the “Spirit of Christianity” as an androgynous figure gathering into its robes four naughty cherubs - representing bickering churches - a commentary on the futility of sectarianism; his attempt to shame mankind into growing up and becoming more tolerant. 

His work inspired and baffled audiences around the world in equal measure. He was the first living artist to be offered a solo exhibition at the Met in New York but refused the invitation of official honours from Queen Victoria. 

Towards the end of his life he created an interactive, living artwork - although always refused to describe it as such. One that tugs on the heartstrings so immediately that its symbolism needs no deciphering. Known as “The Peoples Westminster Abbey” it is formed of a series of plaques under a modest canopy in Postman’s Park in the City of London and honours humble, everyday heroes who sacrificed their lives to save others. Such as Alice Ayers, a servant girl who died while rescuing her three nieces from a fire in Union Street near Borough Market in 1885. Watts conceived of this ‘monument to unknown worth,’ designed the structure and paid for the first four plaques himself.

A humble man, perhaps he wouldn’t be too offended that one of his most famous pieces - in the form of a mosaic copy - now hangs just through those doors, slightly obscured from view on the south gallery stairs here at St Giles-in-the-Fields. 

In it, Time, Death and Judgement are personified - although you’d be forgiven for standing in front of it and asking “Who is this?” To the untrained eye like mine - the classical symbolism is hard to decipher. 

Time is portrayed as an athletic young man brandishing a scythe, striding forward resolutely in a relentless march. He holds hands with a female figure. Grey and lifeless, Death gazes down wistfully at freshly cut leaves, flowers and blossoms; suggesting she can reap her harvest at any time. Judgement flies above the two, holding aloft a set of scales. Its face masked from view, symbolising impartiality.

The mosaic which now hangs on our stairwell is one of a number of versions Watts made of this allegorical painting which, he said - before he created Postman’s Park -  is one of the images through which he wished to be remembered as having been a ‘real artist’. I rather feel his ‘memorial to unknown worth’ in the park warrants that accolade more conclusively. 


Like Watts’ symbolic artwork, the Prayer Book’s selection of readings today simultaneously inspire and baffle us - and embody the themes of time, death and judgement.

As we begin Advent - a period of  expectant waiting for the birth of our Saviour - the gospel transports us to Palm Sunday and Christ’s triumphal entry through the Golden Gates of the Temple. 

We are reminded of the preparation, for that journey - the search for the humble donkey in order that the prophecy of Zechariah about the coming of the Messiah might be fulfilled. 

We recall the frenetic activity that heralded his arrival; the cries of “Hosanna”, the spreading of cloaks and branches at his feet. The King James Bible tells us the whole city was ‘moved’. Other translations are less ‘demure’ - the city was stirred, in turmoil and thrown into uproar. 

Everyone was caught up in the power of this symbolic procession. All the signs were there. But they still had to ask “Who is this”? 

As we prepare to celebrate Christ’s birth, the gospel transports us forwards in time to a pivotal moment before his death, when he was misjudged and abandoned by those who knew him best. 


The reading from St Paul’s Letter to the Romans - on which Cranmer based his Collect of the First Sunday in Advent - draws on the same themes and likewise teleports us into the future. 

Wake up! Paul declares - the end of time is at hand. 

So let us fulfil the promises we all made at our baptism - and renewed a few moments ago as Nicola was baptised - when we symbolically put to death the darkness of our mortal lives and rose again to walk in the light of Christ. 

Like the residents of Jerusalem we are called to be moved - stirred - thrown into a frenetic exchange of love. 

The essence of our faith - which George Frederick Watts came to realise is best symbolised not through clever allegories from the classical age, but embodied in the sacrifice of those memorialised in Postman’s Park. 

These noble acts of heroism constantly recurring in our everyday life, Watts explained, should be perpetuated and honoured - as they illustrate our true character. 

As St Paul says, nothing else matters now except to love one another. 

So that at the impending day of judgement we may be found worthy of the eternal life our Saviour has promised.

Like George Frederick Watts, perhaps those who assembled the readings for today sought not to instil in us ideas that are comforting but to suggest “great thoughts which will speak to the imagination and the heart and will arouse all that is noblest and best in man.” 

As we open the first door on our Advent Calendars, bedecked with saccharine symbols of a snowy yesteryear; as we enter this season of anticipation of the moment in which Gods divine love was enfleshed in the birth of Christ - our texts today are calling us towards a spiritual maturity. 

That, like George Frederick Watts, we may come to know that the innocent divine love born in a manger cannot be fully understood without embracing the reality of Christ’s sacrificial love in his death and resurrection - and the great gift of his Spirit that followed. A spirit that since our baptism is now enfleshed in us - and which we are called to share - to the exclusion of everything else. 

The next time (or perhaps the first time?!) we stop to marvel at the symbolism of George Frederick Watts’ great mosaic on the stairwell here at St Giles, may we each see ourselves as living expressions of the ultimate creative act and aspire to form part of the living memorial that is the community of all baptised people - Christ’s love enfleshed on earth. 

Then we might be better prepared to  answer the question, “Who is this?” when he comes before us. 

Amen.