tadonnelly

Remembrance Sunday Sermon by Richard Magrath

Sermon for Remembrance Sunday, 8 November 2015

[Readings: Epistle: Philippians 2:4-11 Gospel: Luke 15:1-7]

Anniversaries

You can tell by the colours on the leaves that we have once more come round to ‘Remembrancetide’: last week we celebrated the lives of the saints in heaven; and, later, remembered in our prayers the Church Expectant; now the whole country turns its mind to those fallen in the wars.

Last year was the 100^th anniversary of the start of the First World War; and, you might remember, this was marked by a big service at Westminster Abbey; and, if I recall correctly, the Ministry of Culture suggested we all switch off the lights in our houses, at the fateful hour, to symbolise the ‘lights going out all over Europe’.

A Poem

But there was another centenary last year, shortly before this; commemorated only with a plaque at a rural bus stop. As the papers described it: “A hundred years ago, a steam train carrying an unknown poet made an unscheduled stop in a Gloucestershire hamlet called Adlestrop. Absolutely nothing else happened.”

Nothing else happened, but the man wrote a poem about it, which has been described as “one of the nation’s favourites”, though I’d never heard it before last year – so here you go:

Adlestrop, by Edward Thomas

Yes. I remember Adlestrop—
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.
The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop—only the name
And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.
And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

There is apparently debate over whether or not this is a ‘war poem’: on the one hand, it was written before the War, and I should imagine some enjoy it for that charm of the last, late Edwardian summer; and yet, at the same time, the clouds were gathering (June 24^th 1914), and maybe one senses a cetain tension: “someone cleared his throat”; the feeling that, if “No-one left and no-one came”, then what, exactly, are they waiting for? And, at the end, the nigh-on apocalyptic sound of “all the birds”, like in the Book of Revelation we hear “the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands”—

The Countryside

And, indeed, whenever I a walk in the countryside, amid the “willows, willow-herb and grass, / And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry” I always think of the First World War.

And it’s strange: in the countryside one feels so far from London – and from all that is contingent and trending and passing away – as C.S. Lewis might put it, out of the Shadowlands, into eternal England; “No whit less still and lonely fair / Than the high cloudlets in the sky”.

And yet this eternity – admittedly, one known half through landscapes, half through books– is somehow marked, forever, by the First World War, killing men off by the villageful; the pretty war memorials scars of real wounds that once went so deep.

The Suffering of God

And this makes me wonder: does eternal God suffer?

Now, I understand this is a controversial point in theology – so I must tread carefully; and I will make three points, in ascending order of controversy:

(I) Suffering as pain

First: it is undeniable that the Divine Son, Jesus Christ, in his human nature, suffered; that he who was scourged at the pillar, crowned with thorns, and had no place to lay his head, felt in his Divine Body many of the same pains as those distant wounded war casualties from black-and-white photos in the glossy centre pages of history books.

And that Our Lord, who was executed so unjustly, must be especially close to those who were cruelly shot for desertion by their own side.

And Our Lady, the Virgin Mary, standing at the foot of the cross, knows the very same sorrows as those mother who stood and waited for news of their own beloved sons’ deaths.

(II) Suffering as passivity

But there is another sense to suffering: suffering can also mean letting things happen, not having control, being passive; things happening to you that you do not want.

Rowan Williams, in his recent book on St Mark’s gospel, notes that Jesus only accepts the title “Christ” when he is most powerless: arraigned before the High Priest, abandoned by his disciples, bound and handed over to wicked men.

Kierkegaard thought the essence of tragedy was suffering: having bad things happen to you, which are not your fault.

The origins of the First World War are complicated; and scholars disagree over how to best apportion blame. But it is clear, of course, that many millions suffered for what was not their fault: (except that, like us, they were sinners, living in a world ruled by sin).

When we are called upon to suffer, then how do we react?

Edward Thomas, the poet who wrote ‘Adlestrop’, enlisted in the army just over a year later. He was killed on April 9, 1917, the first day of the Battle of Arras. He never lived to see his poem published.

And some others enlisted; and some were conscientious objectors; and still others fled. And afterwards some were proud of what they did, and I’m sure others were ashamed: how we act – in war, in suffering, at any time – is, of course, immensely important.

But then, I remember the disciples fled Gethsemane when the armed gang arrived to take Jesus. And how our Lord then reacted – freely giving himself over to wicked men – was not intended simply as an example, to strengthen us in our suffering, or indeed even to remind us that “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friend.”

No: he did it to save them; and to save the war dead, and the deserters and objectors; and the French and the Germans; and the Tsar and Lloyd George; and the Archduke and his assassin and even the centurion who pierced his own side with a lance; and to save you, and the many, whatever we have done.

(III) Suffering in his Divine Nature

Which brings me to the final and most controversial statement: does God suffer in his eternal Divine Nature?

I submit that he does. Because God is love; and how else does a loving father, loving mother feel, to see their beloved children in pain, and yet so distant?

God suffered to see his people turn away from him both in ancient times and modern, when they turned away from justice because they preferred the gains of war, ignoring the call to turn their swords into ploughshares.

God suffers like the father of the prodigal would have done, to hear a word from a far country of about beloved son’s sad existence.

God suffers like the shepherd who lost one of his sheep, and then climbed out on the mountaintops to find him:

‘Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way,
That mark out the mountain’s track?’
‘They were shed for one who had gone away
Ere the shepherd could bring him back.’
‘Lord, whence are thy hands so rent and torn?’
‘They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn.’
‘They’re pierced tonight by many a thorn.’

Suffering: conclusion

Lines from a famous revivalist hymn; and I have spoken about three kinds of suffering – but really they are all of one piece: for why did our Lord suffer the thorns and the cross, but that he handed himself over to wicked men, for us; and what was this, but another step of the Incarnation, when he “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself—”

Or, as another famous hymn writer, Charles Wesley puts it:

‘He left his Father’s throne above
So free, so infinite his grace—
Emptied himself of all but love
And bled for Adam’s helpless race.

O divine love, that suffered so much, for it cared so much, that it embraced nearly every form of suffering known to fallen humanity; and all this that, some day, we (all of us: the war dead and the saints) might need suffer no longer.

Amen.

Love is the Answer – but not an easy answer

Gospel Reading:

Mark 10^.2-16

Some Pharisees came, and to test him they asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” He answered them, “What did Moses command you?” They said, “Moses allowed a man to write a certificate of dismissal and to divorce her.” ButJesus said to them, “Because of your hardness of heart he wrote this commandment for you. But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.’ So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

Then in the house the disciples asked him again about this matter. He said to them, “Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.”

People were bringing little children to him in order that he might touch them; and the disciples spoke sternly to them. But when Jesus saw this, he was indignant and said to them, “Let the little children come to me; do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” And he took them up in his arms, laid his hands on them, and blessed them.

It never ceases to amaze me how people pick and choose which bits of Scripture to get excited about. Some fundamentalists get very excited about the creation story in Genesis 1:1-2:3 and take it as historical and scientific fact, but are happy to ignore the fact there is another account of creation in Genesis 2:4-3:24 In the first creation story, humans are created after the other animals, In the second story, humans were created before the other animals.

The ancient people who compiled the Bible from different local myths and parables knew that they were not literal accounts, sometimes the twenty first century does not seem so advanced in its thinking!

Christians also get excited about Scriptures that could be interpreted as condemnations of gay sex, but ignore Scriptures that condemn sex during menstruation or eating shellfish in exactly the same terms.

Christians get excited about the condemnation of fornication but ignore the hundreds of times that usury (charging interest on a loan) is condemned.

In fact it seems that Christians tend to get excited about the few bits of the Bible that talk about sex and ignore the swathes of Scripture that talk about money and justice and care for the poor.

What we do with our genitalia is significant, but I strongly suspect that God is more interested in what we do with our wallets…

This mornings reading is one that gets some Christians excited – the prohibition of divorce. But those who get excited about this absolute condemnation of divorce are rarely the same people who get excited for verse 21 where Jesus instructs those who want to follow to sell their possessions and give the proceeds to the poor, because, he continues, “it is as hard for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle for some who is rich to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.”

I’m not saying divorce is good. At a wedding vows are taken and a divorce breaks those vows. Divorce is a falling short of the ideal, but it must never be regarded as an unpardonable sin.

The prohibition of divorce was more than an issue of sexual morality in Jesus time, it was an important matter of justice. In first century Palestine women were not allowed to engage in many forms of money making, and legally they were pretty much regarded as property. If a man divorced he was free to build a new life and start again. A divorced woman would have to hope her parents would take her in again or she would have to become a beggar, or worse…

Strict divorce law was about protecting the vulnerable in a patriarchal society.

The same law that was used to protect the vulnerable has been used in history to trap vulnerable women in abusive marriages. I suggest that allowing divorce in cases of abusive partners is actually more in keeping with the spirit of Jesus’ teaching, even if it goes against the letter of what he said.

Jesus condemned those who followed the letter of the Law in such a way that excluded or exploited the vulnerable in society.

That is made clear in what immediately follows this. Jesus lets the children come to him. We have a sentimental, protective view of childhood and children. This was not the culture of Jesus time. In a poor nation under Roman occupation life was hard, children were often seen as burdens until they were old enough to work; and with a shockingly high child mortality rate you simply could not invest the kind of emotional energy into children as we do today. Children were on the margins of society.

Jesus was being countercultural by placing a high value of children.

Let’s return to how Jesus viewed the Law.

Usually he seems to disregard its strict rules – a few weeks ago we heard how he allowed his disciples to eat with unwashed hands, and when challenged that his actions were “work” on the Sabbath “day of rest” Jesus shocked the devout by saying “the Sabbath was made for humanity, not humanity for the Sabbath.”

And that seems to be how Jesus treats all of the Jewish Laws – “the Law is made for humanity, not humanity for the Law.”

For Jesus all of the Law is summed up in the command to love – it is so central that we hear it ever Sunday “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.”

So we don’t have to follow the letter of the law anymore…

It’s really all about love…

So as liberals we heave a sigh of relief – we don’t have to be strict…

But there is a catch here that as liberals we often forget…

Laws are quite easy to follow – most people could refrain from eating prawns and sleeping around if they felt God commanded it…

But we have a much tougher spiritual discipline to observe – we are called to love…

What’s the last thing you did that could be described as an act of love for God…?

What’s the last thing you did that could be described as an act of love for your neighbour…?

What’s the last thing you did that could be described as an act of love for yourself…?

We love God in prayer in worship, in supporting the work of God’s church with time and money and energy…

We love our neighbour in reaching out to the poor and the outcast, those in need who are near and far – refugees, the homeless, the outcast and marginalised…

We love ourselves by respecting the bodies that God gave us, by trying to develop ourselves and by just resting and enjoying life…

The command to love is so much more challenging.

Take the idea of coming to Church on a Sunday morning. As Christians do we have to do that? Well my liberal sensibilities say that visiting family or friends or getting away for some rest after a busy week are also morally and theologically good things to do, and we shouldn’t be afraid to sometimes do that…

But we still have to wrestle with the command to love God. I don’t think that Christianity (or at least Liberal Christianity) demands that you attend every Sunday – but it does demand that you love God and that means if you can’t make Church you should think how else you could express your faith this week – maybe calling in to a midweek service? Maybe spend extra time in prayer, or an hour reading the Bible or a spiritual book.

Life has a meaning. That meaning is found in a God who loves you and your life really matters to God. All that we own and all that we are is gift from God.

Our response to that amazing truth cannot possible be expressed in one hour on a Sunday morning – but sometimes we don’t even manage that!

Liberal faith is so much more challenging than a conservative one – because there are no easy answers.

I can’t tell you come to Church X amounts of times and pay Y sums of money to church funds.

But I tell you what Jesus said “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.”

And if it’s not challenging I’m pretty sure you’re not doing it right

But if it’s nor exciting and joyful and life-enhancing I’m pretty sure you’re not doing it right either!

Dare we follow the greatest commandment to love?

The Syrophoenician Woman shows Jesus the Way

Mark 7.24-30

From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet.
Now the woman was a Gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter.
He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.”
But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”
Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go– the demon has left your daughter.”
So she went home, found the child lying on the bed, and the demon gone.

Sartre said “hell is other people.” This week we have seen images and read news reports about the hell that is other people.

For a generation the phrase “asylum seeker” has become a dirty word. We forgot the Jews that we turned away from our boarders as they fled the Holocaust before the Second World War, and David Cameron wanted to turn away all but a handful of those fleeing Syria (a nation that Britain and America have destabilised in an area we deliberately kept in turmoil for decades.)

The moral cowardice is staggering: a government unmoved by people in desperate need, heeding only a public outcry – it’s profoundly depressing.

But what is the Christian response?

Reflecting on how many Syrian refugees should we take, Giles Fraser wrote in the guardian this week: “…why not all of them? Surely that’s the biblical answer to the “how many can we take?” question. Every single last one. Let’s dig up the greenbelt, create new cities, turn our Downton Abbeys into flats and church halls into temporary dormitories, and reclaim all those empty penthouses being used as nothing more than investment vehicles.”

Giles quoted Emma Lazarus’ famous words inscribed on the Statue of Liberty to illustrate than an open door can build, not destroy nations: “Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp! Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Our Bible reading also talks about a foreigner in need, and a foreigner who does not receive a warm welcome. This story from Mark’s Gospel is a fascinating one. Jesus is becoming famous in Palestine, people wanting healing, people wanting to hear his teaching, and the Pharisees wanting to trip him up, were all after him. He escapes into the region of Trye and Sidon, Gentile country (the modern day Lebanon).

If you read this passage as a literary work it is unique in the Gospels. In every other story like this (scholars call them perecopes) the words or deeds of Jesus are the climax – but in this passage it is the woman’s words that are the climax:

Jesus calls her a dog, but the turning point is when she replies to Jesus, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

As we look at the harrowing images of the lengths refugees will go to to escape violence and how they are turned away, the words echo down the ages “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.”

The question of Jesus harsh words to the woman have provoked much debate:

We must wonder why Mark decided to records this event – it doesn’t portray Jesus is a very good light – he calls the woman who comes to her in need a ‘dog’ – ‘for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs!’

Up to now Jesus Ministry has been to the Jews only, so he thought foreigners (Gentiles) would not bother him. But a woman comes up to him in distress, a Gentile woman, her daughter is ill, and she begs Jesus to act. And Jesus seems astoundingly and uncharacteristically rude. He is often rude to the scribes and Pharisees, the hypocritical religious authorities of his time. But this is the only place in the New Testament where he is rude to someone in need.

There must be a good reason for including this bizarre little story, in the middle of lots of rather exciting tales of miraculous healings.

Some scholars have tried to reinterpret the Greek, but if anything ‘dog’ was a bigger insult in first century Palestine than it is today.

Some scholars have suggested it was a test of the woman’s faith. But that too seems cruel, and beneath the loving Jesus we read of in the rest of Scripture.

He seems to me that Jesus meant what he said.

The idea of the incarnation is a complicated doctrine, but whatever our interpretation of it, Jesus was fully a human being. Jesus was not God walking around in disguise. Jesus has to learn, like any of us, and Jesus had to learn his mission. Being brought up a Jew it is quite probable that up to this point Jesus thought his mission was to the Jews only. This Gentile woman comes along, and he dismisses her – she is not part of his plan.

But then the most startling thing of all happens:

Jesus allows himself to be corrected.

He realises that his mission is not only to the Gentiles, but to all people, this poor woman and her daughter included.

Jesus definition of moral responsibility is expanded to include the foreign woman.

Perhaps Mark recorded this story because it was a turning point. God spoke through this Gentile Woman.

Jesus allows a woman to correct him. The Rabbis of Jesus’ day would never teach a woman, never talk theology to a woman, some would not even look at a woman. Yet here and elsewhere in the Gospels, Jesus teaches and talks, and even allows himself to learn from women. Other Rabbis would never allow a woman to win an argument over them in public, it would be instant disgrace, their ability would be discredited. Yet Jesus knows what is right is more important than what looks right, so he allows himself to learn.

Perhaps even more shocking is that Jesus allows himself to be corrected by a Gentile! Gentiles were those who were of no religious significance, who were seen as unclean, and in error. But Jesus is open to learning not just from the learned Rabbis in the Temple, where he discussed the Law as a young boy, Jesus is open to hearing from God in all people. Even in those others hated, even in those who would tarnish his image by even speaking to.

We all need to learn from Christ’s humility, and be ready to lean from those we, or others, disdain. And live as Christ lived, a life of love. We need to expand our definition of moral responsibility, it is more important today than ever, as we see those fleeing Syria.

The idea of hospitality is at the heart of Jewish and Christian ethics. The ethics of our Jewish roots are summarised in the two words “remember Egypt” – the Jewish people are called to remember when they were poor slaves, oppressed, exploited, who fled seeking asylum in the Promised Land. Remembering the past we must today care for the poor, oppressed, exploited, those who flee seeking asylum

This week Justin Welby quoted from Leviticus, saying we must “break down barriers, to welcome the stranger and love them as ourselves.”

This is our challenge, in our personal interactions and in our national life.

Amen.

Jesus and the Bacon Sandwich

The following notes are from a discussion-based ‘sermon’:

I’m going to start with a question. There is no certain right or wrong answer to it (it’s not like the question of the Labour Party leadership – clearly Jeremy Corbyn is the correct answer – just sayin’) so don’t be afraid to say what you think…

It’s not “all age” but there is a visual aid…

A bacon sandwich is presented to the congregation…

My question is: If it was handed to him, would Jesus eat this bacon sandwich?

We will go deeper in a moment, but let’s just ask for a show of hands on your initial response…

As a good liberal congregation let’s start with the ‘don’t know’s…?
Now the ‘yes’s…? (the Majority at the Church of the Ascension thought yes)
And finally the ‘no’s…?

Take two minutes to discuss…

…

What are the issues?

Jesus was forbidden to eat pig as a Jew
What if someone was being deliberately offensive to Jesus…?
What if Jesus was innocently offered it by a Roman child…?
What if someone was trying to test Jesus…?
What if it was today…?
What is cultural and what is God’s Commandment and what is Human Tradition…?
If we think Jesus’ wouldn’t eat the sandwich… What does that mean for us…?

For what it’s worth I suspect Jesus wouldn’t have eaten the bacon sandwich. As a follow of Jesus shouldn’t I then do the same? Well no actually, because I think that Jesus was a product of his culture and some of his actions were conditioned by that culture, but some of his actions, like the command to love speak to universal truths of the human condition.

Deciding which are which is the biggest challenge of Christian Theology.

Jesus was a progressive thinker in his age. Do we honour him best by trying to be progressive thinkers today, or by crystallising everything he said into permanent immutable truths and leaving progress in first century Palestine?

The way I asked the question reveals my answer…!

A little bit of background to the reading:

The basis for hand washing in Judaism was originally related to the Temple service and sacrifices as outlined in Exodus 30:17-21. Before going into the tent of meeting, Aaron and his sons were to wash their hands and their feet. After the destruction of the Temple, however, everything changed. Still, the rabbis did not want to lose the importance of hand washing, so they moved it to the dining room table or home “altar.” They attempted to bring the holy into everyday life. However, at some point, what was meant to be a life-giving practice became a means of designating insiders and outsiders and for many it became an empty ritual which no longer led people closer to God.

Then we see Jesus’ disciples, who were a band of itinerant preachers, begging for their upkeep, and unable to follow all the ritual cleansings of the Law demanded. But Jesus says it’s not what we eat that makes us unclean, it’s not what enters our bodies – it is what comes out of us. Jesus has a list:

fornication, theft, murder, adultery, avarice, wickedness, deceit, licentiousness, envy, slander, pride, folly

We can apply our thinking about the bacon sandwich to this list: Fornication, for example, is condemned in the context of women being the property of men… Any sexual relationship with a woman who was not protected by marriage put the woman in an extremely vulnerable position. Some people use the command to condemn all sex outside of marriage including equal marriage for gay and lesbian couples. But I believe that it’s nearer the spirit of the command to try and prevent sexual exploitation – to work against sex trafficking, child abuse, the excesses of the sex industry… That’s more in the spirit of Jesus than inquiring about what consenting adults do in private. Jesus message was to refrain from judging others and that love is the most important religious practice.

I chose fornication from the list because the theme connects us to the first reading, and I don’t want to finish today without mentioning it:

Our first reading is from one of my favourite books of the Bible. The Song of Solomon is an extended love poem or collection of poems, a dialogue between a lover and the beloved with an occasional chorus that gives a kind of commentary on the love story. But the Song of Solomon is not universally loved nor universally understood. As far back as third century the theologian Origen thought that the book was an allegory describing the love of God for Israel and/or the love of Jesus for the church.

Origen is not the most reliable of scholars. His interpretation of Matthew’s Gospel “if your eye offends you, pluck it out” led him to castrate himself. But his was not a lone voice and much later Reformers like Calvin accepted Origen’s view.

But the most sensible interpretation of the text is that it is what it appears to be: an erotically charged love poem. The only reason to attempt an allegorical interpretation is a mistrust of sexuality – something that increased in the Christian Tradition as it became more influenced by Greek Philosophy. But that is another sermon.

This is one of only two biblical books, Esther and Song of Songs, where there is no mention of God. Also, unlike the majority of the Bible (with the exception of the books of Esther and Ruth) the woman’s voice is clearly heard. The voice of the woman is about 75% of the book. She is feisty, frisky, and sees the lover as an equal: she affirms, “my beloved is mine and I am his.”

So having traveled from bacon sandwiches to erotic poetry via Jesus and contextual theology… What does this mean for us?

Firstly I hope it made you wonder if you know Jesus as well as you think you do… We need room for doubt and uncertainty and questioning if we want our faith to grow. The faith that thinks it knows all the answers is not only dangerous, it’s a faith that clearly hasn’t fully understood the questions.

As Richard Feynman said, “I would rather have questions that can’t be answered than answers that can’t be questioned.”

So firstly I hope it has made you think about your assumptions about Jesus.

Secondly I hope it’s helped shed light on how we can use scripture to reflect on our life today.

The only Gospel is an Inclusive Gospel

Collect (prayer) of the Day:

God of inclusive love, who knows us each by name: we thank you for the woman, who stood out of the crowd and defied her uncleanness to connect with you; we praise you for the leader of the synagogue, who faced the mockery of others to give his daughter hope; may the flowing power of Christ bring healing and acceptance to the rejected and abused. Through Jesus Christ, giver of life. Amen.

First Reading: Psalm 130

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!
If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?
But there is forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered.
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning.
O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love,
and with him is great power to redeem. It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities.

Gospel Reading: Mark 5.21-43

When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a great crowd gathered around him; and he was by the sea. Then one of the leaders of the synagogue named Jairus came and, when he saw him, fell at his feet and begged him repeatedly, “My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.”
So he went with him. And a large crowd followed him and pressed in on him. Now there was a woman who had been suffering from hemorrhages for twelve years. She had endured much under many physicians, and had spent all that she had; and she was no better, but rather grew worse. She had heard about Jesus, and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, for she said, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well.” Immediately her hemorrhage stopped; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease. Immediately aware that power had gone forth from him, Jesus turned about in the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” And his disciples said to him, “You see the crowd pressing in on you; how can you say, ‘Who touched me?’” He looked all around to see who had done it. But the woman, knowing what had happened to her, came in fear and trembling, fell down before him, and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease.”
While he was still speaking, some people came from the leader’s house to say, “Your daughter is dead. Why trouble the teacher any further?” But overhearing what they said, Jesus said to the leader of the synagogue, “Do not fear, only believe.” He allowed no one to follow him except Peter, James, and John, the brother of James. When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.

A man walked into a Private Hospital for a Brain transplant. The doctor showed the patient 3 brains and asked the patient to choose:

A White man’s brain £500
A Black man’s brain £500
A Racists man’s brain £2000

The patient was shocked and asked why the Racist brain costs so much?

Doctor replies “Oh, it’s because that one’s never been used”

We are going to be thinking about prejudice, and about using our brains in this service.

And later in this sermon (to give away the ending) I’m going to talk about how the fundamental teaching of Jesus was that God loves everyone, regardless or race, gender, sexuality education or social status… and that everyone, without the help of a religious elite, can have a direct experience of God.

But if we don’t need a religious elite what is the point of Church?

I believe that the point of the Church is not just that we gather with like-minded people to explore faith together; the point is not that we encounter people like us, the point is that we encounter people who are different, with different experiences and different insights who can challenge our comfortable ways of thinking and help us to grow.

I was on the receiving end of a challenge this week, that has really made me think, and I’m not quite there with a conclusion yet, but maybe you’ll be interested in some of my journey.

I was deeply challenged last week when a member of the congregation wondered why we made no mention of the murders in Emmanuel Church in South Carolina. When Islamic extremists attack white middle class people it dominates the news and our thoughts and prayers. But not when back people are murdered in a church.

It’s worth asking ourselves why a white supremacist killing black people in church is not seen as terrorism in the same way as white tourists being killed on a beach.

I think if you compare time on the news and column inches in the newspapers you will see that there is something amiss.

Is is simply because white supremacists are so clearly idiots? Maybe, there is some truth in that, but I don’t think violent religious extremists are necessarily any more intelligent.

More likely it because our press is dominated by white middle class professionals who find it easier to identify with white middle class victims; these reporters and editors don’t feel threatened by American rednecks picking on black people but find radical Muslims (who are potentially threatening people like them) utterly terrifying.

I have to confess that I didn’t even notice the problem until it was pointed out to me.

My instinct was to get all defensive and try to justify myself and the church. But that is not the way to grow and the life of faith demands that we keep our hearts and minds open even when it is uncomfortable.

Keeping all this in our minds let’s look at our reading from this morning in the hope that we can find some wisdom in the words and actions of Jesus.

Jesus was about to preach. He was beginning his ministry, so gathering a crowd would have been an achievement. Just as Jesus was about to begin Jairus, the ruler of the Synagogue, came and fell at Jesus’ feet pleading for healing for his daughter. The Bible simply says, “So he went with him.”

It is interesting to note how Jesus changes his plan instantly.

The late Henri Nouwen, the Catholic scholar and writer, said in the prime of his career that he became frustrated by the many interruptions to his work: he was teaching at Notre Dame and had a heavy workload and didn’t like to be disturbed. Then one day it dawned on him that his interruptions were his work. As John Lennon said, “Life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans!” Often we find that the interruption is what life is all about.

Jesus was open to the interruption, to the voice of the outsider.

Jairus daughter was an outsider. We have a culture that has a strange relationship to childhood, we elevate childhood in a way that would bewilder most of our forbears and certainly come as a shock to people in time of Jesus. What we often fail to grasp is that in a culture with such a high infant mortality rate people could not invest the same kind of emotional energy in children as we do today. Children were obviously important to their parents, but they were not especially valued, and childhood was not seen as an almost sacred time of innocence to be protected. Childhood was not valued in its own right – it was just a stage on becoming an adult when they become a fully valuable member of society.

When Jesus cares for the children, he is valuing those that society did not think were important.

Jesus was revolutionary in his thinking because he valued everyone. He welcomed prostitutes, tax collectors, zealots, children..

The Gospel, the “good news” is that God loves everyone, God loves you.

It is not the Gospel of Jesus if it isn’t for everyone.

The woman that came to Jesus was ceremonially unclean, she wasn’t able to practice her faith because of her issue of blood.

She touches Jesus clothes, making him ceremonially unclean, her religion a mix of superstition and desperation.

But Jesus does not patronise her, he does not scold her for spreading her uncleanness. He includes her and welcomes her and heals her.

Here is inclusive Christianity in action. The child of the synagogue official and the unclean women are both included.

“Being inclusive” as we term our tradition, has nothing whatsoever to do with being ‘politically correct,’ it has everything to do with living out the Gospel. We should not have to call ourselves an “inclusive church” because to be the church should necessarily mean we are inclusive.

The story of the woman with an issue of blood is not an isolated incident, Jesus whole ministry is about including the outcast:

Zachaeus and Matthew the tax collectors
The invitation to the rough fisherman to follow
The conversation with the gentile woman at the well
The acceptance of prostitutes
Ministering to a Roman Centurion
Welcoming slaves and servants
Embracing lepers
Helping the demon possessed

The church’s mission is to bring people closer to God. But all too often we see ourselves as ‘gatekeepers’ and ‘guardians’ who keep certain individuals out, rather than the prophets and priests that bring Christ out to everyone.

I’ve told you before how when I was training at Ripon College Cuddesdon we were told that he motto of the college used to be “guard he deposit” – but the motto had fallen from use, and the only place the archivist could find it inscribed was on an old college bed pan. (Don’t think about that too much!). But our job is not to guard, but to proclaim. This lager mentality, of circling the wagons, and refusing to engage with the best of secular thinking, is what allows outdated prejudices to flourish, and could kill the church…

Inclusion is the Gospel. The Good news is that every one of us is invited to live in God’s kingdom.

Jesus said: “Come onto me all who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Jesus did not say “Come onto me you heterosexual people,” or “as special welcome for white, middle class people with plenty of money…”

“Come onto me all who are heavy laden…” “all” “all” “all”

Jesus “all” goes beyond the superficial boundaries of gender, sexuality, ethnicity & poverty… Yet so often the Church of England has become a straight, white gentleman’s club.

If people are excluded or undervalued because of their race, it is not the Gospel of Jesus.

If people are excluded or undervalued because of their age, it is not the Gospel of Jesus.

If people are excluded or undervalued because of their education or intelligence, it is not the Gospel of Jesus.

If people are excluded or undervalued because of their gender, it is not the Gospel of Jesus.

If people are excluded or undervalued because of their sexuality, it is not the Gospel of Jesus.

The fundamental teaching of Jesus was that God loves everyone, and everyone, without the help of a religious elite can encounter God. Jesus savagely criticised the religious leaders of his day, they were ‘whitewashed tombs’ and ‘broods of vipers’ who declared who was clean and who was unclean, who acted as gatekeepers of God’s love. But according to Jesus, that love was freely given to all humanity.

But if we don’t need a religious elite what is the point of Church?

As I said at the beginning, I believe that the point of the Church is not just that we gather with like-minded people to explore faith together; the point is not that we encounter people like us, the point is that we encounter people who are different, with different experiences and different insights who can challenge our comfortable ways of thinking and help us to grow.

Maybe we do need to address how we think about race, or how we think of people who we work with on the estates, or people from other churches.

We embrace the interruption of someone in need and we accept the challenge to change our way of thinking.

I close with a traditional African prayer that we use every Monday at our service of Morning Prayer:

From the cowardice that does not face new truths,
from the laziness that is content with half truths,
from the arrogance that thinks it knows all the truth,
deliver us today, good Lord.

Amen.

The Other Sheep

John 10v11-18

Our Gospel reading places us as a sheep belonging to Jesus, our Good Shepherd. Those who have been coming for a while know that I sometimes like to start my sermons with a joke, just to wake everyone up if the readings were dull or no one knew the last hymn.

I try to find a joke that somehow cleverly fits the theme of the sermon. This week I was trying to find sheep jokes and failed to find anything remotely relevant. But this is Marathon Sunday, and lots of our regulars are cut off or at least have their transport here disrupted… I was tempted to treat it as a teacher treats the last day of term and suggest that you all just “bring in games.” I have no excuse for the following jokes, other than that I am bringing in games!

So:

What do you get if you cross an angry sheep and a moody cow?
An animal that’s in a baaaaaaaad moooooood.

Why was the sheep arrested on the motorway?
Because she did a ewe-turn!

What Christian denomination is most popular with sheep?
Baaaa-ptist.

Finally, my personal favourite:

A man in a cinema notices what looks like a sheep sitting next to him.

“Are you a sheep?” Asked the man, surprised.

“Yes.” Said the sheep.

“What are you doing at the movies?”

The sheep replied, “Well, I liked the book.”

“All we like sheep have gone astray.” We are “the sheep of [God’s] pasture.” We are the “sheep” for whom the “good shepherd” lays down his life.

Feeling a bit sheepish this morning?

I know that some members of this congregation struggle with the metaphor of God’s people as sheep. None of us want to be sheep – we want to be powerful and important, not bleating animals that follow the crowd.

One of my standard Christmas talks is about the shepherds on the hillside outside Bethlehem, and how shepherds were outcasts of the day – poor wild men who slept rough on the hillsides – hired for a pittance, barely above beggars in the social hierarchy.

I’ve heard kids use “MacDonalds Worker” as an insult; in first century Palestine the kids may well have taunted unpromising peers with “Shepherd!”

Shepherds were hired to look after the sheep.

Sheep were not a particularly highly regarded commodity at the time. They did have some religious significance, but only because they were slaughtered in their thousands at Passover, so that the floor of the Temple ran red with their blood.

If you feel uncomfortable with the idea of being called a “sheep” it’s worth considering that sheep had no better image in Jesus’ day than they do now (and shepherds had a considerably worse image!)

The metaphor of Jesus as a Shepherd and his followers as sheep is not a cutesy image. It’s about outcasts caring for the insignificant. But it’s about finding beauty in the everyday. It’s about saying God is interested in things that society ignores or undervalues or despises.

Having set the scene, I want to spend a bit of time reflecting on one verse and what it might mean to us: Jesus said, “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.”

Jesus calls the disciples, the Christian Church in embryo, “a sheepfold.” The place where God purpose is worked out on Earth…

But Jesus says “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.”

The Early Christians were struggling with the Jewish authorities as the two religions began to go separate ways… They were distrusted by the Roman government who were soon to attempt to exterminate them.

They were harassed on every side, it would have been easy to fall into exclusive extremism, but instead they record and pass on the words of Jesus: