Faith and the Green Movement

 A talk to the first Havant Green Festival - 16th Sept 2023

Thank you for this opportunity to address your Festival.  It’s real privilege.  I’m especially aware that not everyone here would call themselves a person of faith.  But in the next few minutes, I’d like to make the case for a stronger connection between the Green movement, and the world of faith in general.

You will know, I’m sure, that there are hundreds of creation myths, from religions all around the world.  All the ancient civilizations had them.  The idea that Creation was an event of some description seems to be hard-wired into human beings.  Perhaps that’s because we each have our own beginning, and we can’t cope with the idea of anything else not having some kind of beginning.  We also, instinctively, want to know where we came from, and why we are here.  It is part of our endless search for meaning.

The word ‘religion’ comes from the same root as the children’s toy, Lego – it’s the Latin word ‘legio’, which means, ‘to choose, to collect, to connect’.  It was from that word that the Romans created their legions – collections of individuals, chosen to be connected together by a common cause (to fight for Rome).  Religion, then, means to ‘re-connect’, in spiritual terms it means any activity which re-connects us to the sense of the Divine within all humans.  Religion is about that endless search of all humanity for meaningful origin stories for creation, and discovering meaning for our own short lives within creation.

The world of science has been a challenge to religious thinking, since the Renaissance.  That’s a great pity, as far as I am concerned, since theology was once considered ‘the queen of the sciences’ – precisely because good theology has always used the scientific method of hypothesis, test, repeat, to deepen human understanding of that which is beyond our limited gaze.  For those with an open mind, science still has many unanswered questions, to which religion can sometimes provide helpful answers.

The obvious big unanswered questions remain the ones about origin and meaning.  Science teaches us, for example, about the Big Bang.  But it can’t tell us anything meaningful about what happened before the Big Bang.  Science can only hypothesise.  Was it, for example,  just a latest big bang in an eternity of an ever expanding and contracting Universe?  We’ll never know for sure. Did the trillions of stars and incalculable matter of the Universe really emerge from a tiny point in space, no bigger than a pencil dot?  Again, science can only hypothesize.  What about meaning?  We are hard-wired to search for it, but science has no answer to the question, except to hypothesize that we are the Universe observing itself, through our reasoning brains.  There are many other areas we could explore.  What is dark matter?  Are there multiple dimensions?  Could one of them be ‘heaven’? 

My point, though, is to say that it is tempting to assume that science has replaced religion, over the essential human questions of origin and meaning.  But, in reality, science really knows very little about those vital questions.  And so, I would argue, it is unwise to jettison the wisdom of the millennia of religious truth-seeking, in favour of the new kid on the block, of science. 

A more troubling aspect of science, is that it is frequently highjacked by greedy men, for their own purposes.  That is true of religion, of course, too.  But whilst the greedy men who highjack religion have done so mainly to feather their own nests, the high-jacking of science and technology is that it has global consequences.  Science has given us mass transportation, and the food to feed billions who are multiplying as a result of scientific advances in medicine.  But it is science that has also given us the ability to fill the air with pollutants, to carve up the earth for minerals, to lay waste to the forests, and to pollute our rivers, and to fill the world with plastic gadgets and gizmos.  All these things have happened because some human beings have had the will and the wit to use the advances of science to sell ‘meaning’ to the rest of us.

But the ‘queen of sciences’, theology, offers us a different lens of meaning, which might yet hold some of the answers to the global problems we are facing.  The religious myths of the world provide us with a moral framework in which to operate the tools of science.  At their heart, all religions have some common moral commands – which offer meaning, and teach restraint.  For example, you’ll have heard of the ‘Golden Rule’ – that great teaching common to all the major religions of the world, and most of the minor ones as well.  It goes like this:  ‘Do unto others as you would be done unto’.  Jesus, the Buddha, the Prophet Mohammed and many more have taught this rule. 

If (if only!) that rule were commonly taught, and commonly held, we might begin to imagine and entirely different world.  Shareholders of water companies might not permit sewerage to be pumped into our seas, because that’s not what they would want for themselves in their own seas – on whatever tropical island they reside.  Forests might no longer be cut down by shareholders who live happily in beautiful countryside, because they would think about how they would feel if someone cut down their local forests.   Native lands might no longer be excavated for minerals, because the owners of the mines would think about how they would feel if the land beneath their luxury villa was dug out from under them.

Another common theme among religions is the call to live lightly upon the earth.  These are captured in teachings of the great religious thinkers, like:

Christianity:  “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and vermin destroy, and thieves break in and steal”

Buddhism:  “The secret of happiness, you see, is not found in seeking more, but in developing the capacity to enjoy less.”

Hinduism:  “The earth, the air, the fire, the water, they are all made of the same elements as our body.  So why do we continue to harm them?  We must learn to live in harmony with nature”

Judaism:  “Who is rich?  Those who are satisfied with what they have”  and “Better a little with the fear of the Lord than great wealth with turmoil”

Islam:  “The world is beautiful and verdant, and verily God has made you his stewards in it, and he see how you acquit yourselves”

Taoism:  Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.

I hope you are grasping my central point here.  Science has given us amazing tools to improve the nasty, short and brutish life that most of us spend on earth.  But scientific progress devoid of meaning has led us to the brink of extinction as a species.  I would argue that only religion, in its broadest sense, can offer us a framework for stepping back from that brink, by reminding us of what our ancestors knew instinctively.  They knew that the earth, of which they were stewards, had rhythms and limits – and they learned to live in harmony with them.  Religion gave them a meaningful framework, and adequate myths, for living equitably with other humans, and with the planet, their home.  Whether their creation myth was of Mother Earth, or of a Creation by a god, religion offered them a way of seeing themselves in relationship to creation…not masters and exploiters of it, but stewards of it.

As a ‘religionist’ with a Judeo-Christian background, I can think of no more powerful myth than the story of Creation, as told in the Book of Genesis.  In one of the great Creation myths of the Bible (and there are at least three!) God builds a garden. It’s a delightful place full of all manner of animal and plant life.  Into the garden he places human beings, and he commands them to ‘take care of the garden’. 

Perhaps, I suggest, that one phrase, ‘take care of the garden’ could become a new rallying cry for the Green movement.  It has religious roots, which are deep enough for anyone with the time and inclination to explore.  It contains a sense of command, and of urgency, that our world needs to hear.  It implies the wise use of technology, and it implies purpose.  It presumes that the garden, if taken care of, will abide for ever.  Yes, my friends, let’s ‘take care of the garden’ – and teach the world to do the same.

 

I remember two of the questions that were asked after this talk.

Q. Do you think God will solve the climate catastrophe?

A:  It depends on what kind of god you have in mind in your question.  If you picture God as some kind of Santa Claus in the sky, rewarding his children or punishing them depending on whether they are naughty or nice, then No.  But if you see God as the creative and loving source of every positive human action, inspiring and leading us to become all that we can be…then yes, I could see God helping us to save ourselves, if we listen to the still small voice within.

Q.  Why should we trust religion when all they do is fight each other and exploit others?

A.  I always say ‘judge a religion by the teaching of its founder, not by the idiots who pretend to follow the teachings, but pervert them to their own ends.  Every organization, political party, even football clubs attract people who are on their own power-trip.  But that doesn’t negate the essential core of what each organization, including religions, are teaching.

 

A Christian nation?

Matthew 16:21-28 & Romans 12:9-21

During this last week, the Times published the results of a poll of Church of England clergy.  It’s caused quite a stir in many places.  Given that many of you will have read the survey for yourselves, or at least heard about it, I think it might be helpful if I were to tackle some of its results head on.

The survey contained a number of statistics about the clergy’s shifting attitudes towards same-sex weddings and blessings, as well as other aspects of public morality and the still vexed question of women priests and bishops.  Most of these statistics give hope to people like me, who pray, daily for a less condemnatory tone from the church.  But, of course, such statistics are grist to the mill of those who want to condemn the Church of England for being ‘woke’.  Personally, I don’t mind being called ‘woke’, if the definition of woke is to be someone who is awake to the issues of discrimination and prejudice in our society.  I DO object, however, to being labelled as one of the ‘tofu-eating wokerati’ which our Home Secretary so memorably called out recently.  I’ve never eaten tofu in my life!

The Times itself, as the publisher of the clergy survey, fixed its headline on a rather more national issue.  Two-thirds of the clergy surveyed declared, apparently, that Britain could no longer be called a Christian country.  This, my friends, came as no surprise to me.  Had I been invited to participate in the survey, and had I found the time to answer it, I would have said exactly the same.  In fact, it seems to me that Britain has not been a Christian country for a very long time indeed.

You may wonder why I say this – so let me invite you to think about the issue with me.  For a country to describe itself as ‘Christian’, logic dictates that such a country would deliberately follow the teachings of Christ and his apostles, in the way that it orders its life and institutions.   A definably Christian country would be to do the hard work of making Christ’s teachings a reality in our common life.  Our two readings of today offer us some rather good examples of what that teaching encompasses.

Take St Paul, writing to the Romans.  Let me just pick a few nuggets out of what Paul advises.  First, he says, “hate what is evil and hold fast to what is good”.  There is so much in our society and nation that could be described clearly as evil – and which we yet tolerate.  I mean evils like gambling, excess drinking, pornography, and – perhaps most pernicious of all - the excess accumulation of wealth by a tiny minority.

What else does St Paul advise?  He instructs the Roman Christians to ‘extend hospitality to strangers’.  Now, of course, I realise that the migration crisis of today has no real parallel to biblical times.  But a truly Christian nation would be asking itself hard questions about the language and rhetoric being employed on the subject of strangers in our midst today.  We would, in Paul’s words, ‘take thought for what is noble in the sight of all’.  

If that’s Paul’s perspective on how a Christian community operates, what about Jesus?  He, naturally, goes for the jugular.  ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me’.  A Christian community, or nation, is defined – at least partly - by the extent to which it sacrifices itself for the good of others.  There is some sacrifice by our nation.  We do give aid to other countries, and as a population, we are notoriously generous to mass fundraising events, like Comic Relief and Live Aid.  But when we drill into some hard statistics, the news is not good…

The World Giving Index is an annual report which ranks over 140 countries in the world according to how charitable they are.  It may surprise you to learn that the United Kingdom ranks only 17th on the list.  Ahead of us, in terms of charitable giving, Indonesia (a Muslim country) is number 1.  Then, also ahead of us, are the likes of Kenya, Myanmar, Sierra Leone, Zambia and, believe it or not, Ukraine.  It is remarkable, isn’t it, that some of the poorest countries in the world are also the most charitable?

Another key metric is the amount of tax paid for the common good by country – taxes which are meant for the benefit of all, especially those least able to care for themselves.  The top 10 countries for tax rates include the likes of Denmark, Austria, Finland, Sweden, Israel and Belgium – all well known for having strong health and education services, generous pensions for the elderly, and high indices of general happiness – but all with tax burdens of around 50%.  The UK is nowhere near the top 10 of such countries, with a tax burden of only 33%.

No my friends, in a comparison with Jesus’ teaching about taking up our cross, our nation can only barely claim to be called Christian, in terms of charity or the amount we agree to give for the benefit of the whole community through tax.

Jesus goes on in terms which are not difficult to relate to the rise and fall of the British Empire:  “for what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life?”.  There are some who look back with pride to the days when Britannia ruled the waves, and vast swathes of the World were coloured pink. But what did it profit us to have gained, practically, the whole world?  What aspect of our life did we forfeit?  Startlingly, if we rank countries by gross domestic product per head of population, the United Kingdom now doesn’t even make it into the top 20 nations of the world.  

Our once proud Christian nation is undoubtedly no longer so. We live in post-Christian Britain.  

In terms of our public morality around gambling, drinking and pornography we’re in decline.  

In terms of the high standards we should expect of our leaders, we’re in decline.  

In terms of the way we care for our ‘widows and the poor’ through our miserly benefit system, we’re in decline.  

In terms of the the way we dispense justice through our collapsing court system, the extent to which we give charity, our ability to heal one another through a crumbling health service, the way we unapologetically celebrate wealth and idolise fame, we are in obvsious steep decline.

There are SO many ways in which our national life barely resembles anything that a truly Christian country should look like.

But, my friends, there is hope.  Jesus died to save the World – and our little post-Christian nation is included in his sacrifice.  It is not too late, in Jesus words, for us to take up our collective, national cross of sacrifice.  It is not too late for us to declare the year of the Lord’s favour, to raise up the poor and broken-hearted, to set free the captives.  It is not too late, in Paul’s words, for us to hold on to what is good, to hate what is evil, to live in harmony with one other, to associate with the lowly, to take thought for what is noble in the sight of all, and to live peaceably with all.  Let us never cease from praying the prayer of Jesus himself – Thy Kingdom Come!  Amen!

Boasting for Jesus

Texts: John 13.16-20  & 1 Corinthians 9.16-19

Last week, as I’m sure you remember, I pondered the value of service both to the receiver and the giver of acts of love.  That theme of servanthood continues in today’s readings, thanks to the Lectionary – only, this time, there is a critical edge to the words we read.

First, in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we can infer (from what he says) that he’s having a bit of a problem with the troublesome church in Corinth.  Much of his letter addresses matters of church discipline – and particularly focuses on inappropriate use of the gifts of the Spirit.  But today, we hear a note of frustration on the topic of boasting.  Paul starts this portion of his letter by saying ‘if I proclaim the gospel, this gives me no ground for boasting…’, which we infer means that the Corinthians were doing entirely the opposite. 

They had fallen prey to that most pernicious of problems in all religions; the sin of religious pride.  Perhaps, after the initial excitement of their conversion, the Corinthian Christians had started to pump themselves up as being superior to believers of other religions.  We can imagine them standing in the town square, railing at the crowd about how sinful they were, and about how the only way to be saved was through faith in Jesus.  The trouble is that a significant portion of the members of all religions have this tendency.  Amongst certain strains of Islam, for example, anyone who isn’t a Muslim is described as an ‘infidel’ (which means ‘unfaithful one’).  There is a built in superiority in certain kinds of people who claim that what they believe is the only faith that matters. 

We see this tendency today among certain sections of the church.  There are strains of Christianity which teach that all other so-called Christians are, in fact, apostate sinners condemned to hell.  Maybe that’s because such ‘sinners’ have a different attitude to Scripture, or they believe in welcoming people of varying sexuality, or they are criticised for letting tradition get in the way of the Spirit.  But among the most boastful sects of Christianity are those who hold in contempt anyone who doesn’t believe exactly what the sect believes.  That might be about, say, the meaning of the Cross, the coming of End Times, the Creation of the Earth, and the infallibility of Scripture.  Such people are labelled as ‘back-sliders’, at best, or ‘heretics’ at worst.

Which is a shame because I count myself among those who tend to have a rather more flexible, open approach to Scripture and its teachings.  My yardstick for deciding what is important in the Bible is Jesus himself – at least the Jesus presented to us by the Gospels’ sometimes competing and contradictory accounts. 

In our Gospel we read Jesus’ teaching that no servant is greater than their master, and no messenger is greater than the one who sent them.  Jesus is clearly warning his followers not to get ahead of themselves, and especially not to imagine that their ideas about God, theology and the world are of more import than the clear and plain teaching of Jesus.  Jesus spoke plainly, or in easy-to-understand parables about a whole host of subjects.  He left us in no doubt about how we were to live with God and with one another.

So when people turn to pages of the Bible to justify their own prejudices on a whole variety of topics, I find myself wanting to check their views against the published teachings of Jesus.  So, what did Jesus say about whether the world was made in six days?  Nothing.  What did Jesus teach about the meaning of his death?  Only that he had to die for the sins of the world – nothing about how his death would achieve that, nothing about paying a ransom to the devil, or paying the price for our sin, or appeasing the wrath of God.  He just said that he would pour out his life for the sins of the world. 

What did Jesus say about homosexual relationships, or about transgender politics?  Absolutely nothing.  But he did teach about the importance of love, and committed faithfulness in human relationships.

What did Jesus say about how to treat refugees and strangers?  He told a story of a hated Samaritan who turned out to be a blessing on one who would have labelled him a stranger.  He welcomed Romans, Samaritans, and gentiles of all kinds into his circle of love.

What did Jesus teach about whether women could be priests?  Nothing.  But he did include women among his wider circle of disciples – something unknown for any other Jewish Rabbi.

What did Jesus teach about wealth and possessions?  That hoarding them is stupid.

Do you see the point I’m making?  We human beings are very good at religious pride.  We are very good at nicking odd bits of Scripture, written for a desert tribe between two and three thousand years ago, and then quoting those Scriptures boastfully to claim that our version of the Gospel is the only Truth.

Instead, I recommend, we are invited to bring Jesus to the fore.  Let’s explore what God is like, and how we should live with each other, through the lens of Jesus: the one man in human history who could claim that God was his Father, in a real and literal sense.  After all, like Paul, we have a gospel – good news – to proclaim.  It’s the good news that God is real, though we’ll never grasp God’s infinite immensity.  It’s the good news that God loves us, and created us – never mind how or when.  It’s the good news that he sent Jesus to show us what the father-heart of God is like, and to teach us how to love each other, and live with each other.  Perhaps we would do best to return to the gospels, and see the world through the lens of Jesus Christ.  Now that would be something worth boasting about.

Amen.

Serving and Served - the true Christian Life

See Luke 22:24-30

As Max Bygraves used to say, “I wanna tell you a story”.  I picked this one up on Facebook, recently, and it touched me….

When I asked my 11-year-old son to help me unload dirt from our small pickup into his mother’s new garden boxes, his reaction was typical.

“Ummmm… I’m busy right now,” He said.

He was playing a game on the family laptop, wearing sweat pants and an old T-shirt, lounging on the sofa, feet on the coffee table.

“No you’re not,” I said.

There was a fight, moaning, excuses... the usual.

Moments later, we were next to a wheelbarrow shoveling dirt. He looked at me with flat eyes, his hood up, shoulders slumped, and said, “Why do we have to do this?”

I thought for a moment, because I’ll admit, it was a valid question. Neither of us were all that into flowers or vegetables, or any of the things that would be grown in those garden boxes. But my wife, Mel, loves gardening.

I thought, and he waited, and finally I said, “When you love someone, you serve them.”

I went on, telling him that I want him to grow up to be the kind of man who serves his family, friends, and community.

“This” I said while gesturing to the dirt, and the garden boxes I built the weekend before, and the wheelbarrow and shovel, and the first of many truckloads of dirt we would unload over the next few weeks, “Is what love looks like.”

He didn’t like my answer. I could see it in the way he reluctantly picked his shovel back up.

We finished unloading the dirt. The next day, while I was at work, and the kids and Mel had the day off because it was between terms, Mel sent me a picture.  Mel had picked up another load of dirt and before she had a chance to unload it, Tristan voluntarily started working. When she asked him “why,” he shrugged and said, “Because I love you.”

I’d never been prouder of my son."

That’s a beautiful story isn’t it.  It places service to others, and love for each other, at the core of a family relationship.  And for me, it stands as a model of what service to each other in the Christian family should be too.

Giving service to one another is a core principle of the Christian faith.  It is why all of us ministers, including Bishops, are first ordained as deacons, before anything else.  (The word ‘deacon’ comes from a Greek word that means ‘servant’).  Jesus modelled that same servanthood, not only in giving his life for us, but also by healing, teaching and leading.  Leadership is, in Jesus’ terms, another kind of service.  The best leaders seek nothing for themselves from the job of leading – only the satisfaction of seeing a community move forward.

The word ‘minister’ also points us to this notion of service.  And of course it is used not just of Christian leaders, but also ministers of the Government.  The word implies that the first and greatest duty of all Government leaders is to serve the people who elected them, without fear of favour, and never for personal gain.  Perhaps that is why we are so cross when any minister, in the church or in the government, appears to be feathering their own nest, rather than pouring out their lives in service to others.

The principle of service goes much deeper than just the leaders of the church, however.  It applies to all Christians, at every level of the church.  This idea is exemplified in that lovely hymn ‘Brother, Sister, let me serve you; let me be as Christ to you’.  When the call to service has been heard by every member of a church community, we can have real confidence that the Spirit of God is powerfully at work among us.

But what about those who feel too weak, or too poor, or too sick to offer service?  Does that exclude them from the Christian life of serving and loving others.  Not at all.  I have sat with many a sick person who struggles with the fact that they are no longer well enough to serve others.  They miss the sense of purpose that serving others gave them.  They miss the joy of giving service.  To such people, I always ask a question.  I say “Did you derive pleasure or satisfaction from your acts of service?’.  (They always say yes!).  “Then,” I say “now is your opportunity to let others gain that same sense of pleasure or satisfaction.  Your incapacity, at this point in your life, is your chance to give a gift of vulnerability.  Your vulnerability gives space for others to serve.  It is your gift to them.  Your vulnerability is, in fact, a service you can offer, in itself”.  I usually find that people feel better about themselves after that little talk!

You see, there is something intrinsically powerful in the giving and receiving of service.  When service is offered freely, without cost, and without looking for reward, it can bring surprising reward of its own.  If I sit with a homeless person feeling superior and powerful, with the power to either improve their life or leave them in the same state that I found them, then I have missed the deeper potential of my act of service.  I’ve missed the fact that the homeless person brings to that moment everything they have experienced, all they have learned about themselves, God, and the community.  If I set out only to serve, but not to BE served, I miss what God wants to give me through the transaction of service.  If, however, I sit with the homeless person with an openness to hearing how we can serve each other, then a new and vital relationship is likely to form. 

This is something of the heart of God that I detected in that story I started with.  The young boy, eventually, carried out his act of service out of love for his mother.  But what the story doesn’t explicitly say is that the Mother also served the boy – not least by growing and preparing food in the planters he was filling.  His father served the boy by awakening him to the depth of love he felt for his mother.  Service then, became reciprocal and shared.  The boy served his Mum, his mum served him, the father in the story served them both – and all were bound together in love.

This is something  of what the church means when it talks about the Trinity.  Each member of the Trinity is bound in love to the others.  From that love, service breaks forth – and those acts of service breathe the Universe into life.

Service then is one of the most profound things that a Christian can do.  It is life-giving to the one who receives service, AND to the one who gives it.  Service was at the core of Jesus ministry, and it is at the core of the Christian Way.  So let me leave you with this question:  what service will you offer and receive today?  Amen.

A rather rocky place on which to build...

 Matthew 16. 13.23 & Numbers 20.1-13

Poor old Peter.  He so often got things wrong didn't he?  He cut off the ear of a guard who was arresting Jesus, and got soundly told off for it.  He failed to keep his eyes on Jesus when walking on the water, and had to be rescued.  He denied Jesus three times before the cock crowed, and had to make amends three times for his sin.  And in today's Gospel reading, Jesus compared him to Satan - because he refused to accept what Jesus was saying about the necessity of his forthcoming death.

And yet, this same, failing, apparently incompetent man is the Rock on whom Jesus said he would 'build his church'.  This same, failing, apparently incompetent man is the one to whom Jesus gave the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven - as depicted in the stained glass image of Peter to the right of our High Altar.

Peter gives me hope.  Because whilst I know you all think I am totally infallible and incapable of error (!), I know different.  I know that inside the charade of competence that I show to the world, I'm actually a complete mess.  Much of the extended time off that I had last year was a result of me not being quite so well put-together as I had thought. 

I think Jesus called Simon Peter 'the Rock' as a bit of a joke.  It would have been more like calling him ‘Rocky’ than ‘the Rock’.  The evidence of the Gospels is that Peter was anything but the steady, dependable type of person which the title of 'Rock' suggests.  He was flaky, he changed his mind a lot, he got the wrong end of the stick, frequently.  I think that when Jesus called Simon 'Rocky' for the first time, he had a great big grin on his face.  It would like someone describing me as 'skinny'!

This understanding of Peter should serve to give all of us hope.  Let's notice that Jesus said 'on this rock I will build my church'.  The growth of the church does not rely on me, thank God.  It does not rely on you - even though many of you are brilliant at building the Kingdom, in lots of different ways.  The growth of the church, and the work of the Kingdom, is Jesus' sacred task.  It is Jesus who will build his church.  Not me, not you, not even the amazing Sandra!  It's Jesus.  He is the author and perfector of our faith.  And he is the architect and master-builder of the church.

This, incidentally, is the lesson of our Hebrew Bible reading of today, from the Book of Numbers.  We saw Moses doing miraculous signs, by striking a rock with his staff and casuing water to gush forth.  Of course, it wasn’t Moses who performed this miracle, it was God, acting through Moses…a man who himself was anything but perfect.  He had murdered an Egyptian soldier, taking the law into his own hands.  And, later he had lost trust in God’s ability to deliver the Israelites from the desert.  For his failures, God said that it would not be Moses who would lead the people into the promised land…quite a punishment after a lifetime of speaking for God and leading the people.  But surely, God’s point was that it was God who was leading the people.  It was God who was building a nation, not Moses.  These were to be the people of God, not the people of Moses…and yet, God used Moses, another ‘rocky’ individual, to bring about his purposes.

What does this mean for us, in practical terms?  It means, perhaps, returning to a modern cliche which has lost some of its currency and power in recent years, through over-use and parody.  But I think this cliche still has value.  I'm talking about the old saying 'What would Jesus do?' - expressed on the wristbands and necklaces of thousands of young Christians in the 1980s.  Incidentally, in those days, my daughter used to wear a t-shirt with the phrase ‘who would Jesus bomb?’ which is a very thought-provoking question. 

‘What would Jesus do?’ is a pretty easy question to ask, in every situation, isn't it?  And its still an important question to ask of any effort new effort to 'build the church'.  If any church, and especially our little corner of the church, is to be built by Jesus (as he promised), then it needs to be built on the principles Jesus lived and taught.

When we consider the benefits of the latest money-making wheeze, let's ask 'What would Jesus do?'  That's what our PCC did a couple of years ago, when we turned down an offer to join to 'Postcode Lottery'.  We believed that fundraising via a professional gambling syndicate wasn't what Jesus would do. 

When we are thinking about where to focus our small resources of time and money, what do we ask?  'What would Jesus do?'   How much time do we spend on administration, versus how much time we spend directly engaging with our neighbours in need?  The question helps us to find some balance.  How much of the money God has blessed us with, individually, do we spend on ourselves, on our comfort, on our recreation – and how much do we give for the task of building God’s church?  Because, while it is God who does the building, he does so only in co-operation with ‘rocky’ individuals like me and you.

And it's a great maxim to apply in our personal lives, too. 

Someone has upset me.  Should I rage, or forgive? 'What would Jesus do?'. 

I've inherited a lot of money.  Should I hoard it, or use it generously for the Kingdom?  'What would Jesus do?'. 

I think you get the point.

The Rock on which Jesus builds his church is not one man, from 2,000 years ago.  It's every person who serves Jesus as Lord, and follows his ways.  Jesus said he could build his church on pretty messed up guy called Simon Peter.  But Peter (and Moses before him) stands for you and for me.  Jesus can build his church on anyone who is willing to let him use them and lead them, however much we fail, in the sacred task of building the Church of God.  Amen.    

Coming down the Mountain

 Luke 9.28-36 - The Mount of Transfiguration

 

Have you ever had a mountaintop experience?  You know, one of those experiences that blows your mind - something you'll always remember?  I've had a few.  I've been at fantastic worship events, where emotion has overwhelmed me.  I've been at family celebrations, which I will always remember.  And I've had literal mountain-top experiences - breathing in the cool air and amazing views at the top of various hills and peaks.  I’ve had some strange experiences too – like the time I climbed Glastonbury Tor to find a bunch of naked hippies dancing in a circle!  That made quite an impression on the 10 year old me!

Weddings are mountain-top experiences.  For weeks, months, or even years (sometimes) people look forward to their wedding day.  Everything has to be perfect...the music, the dress, the cake, the food...it's all vitally important.  And then, at the wedding itself...as I well remember...you find yourself caught up into one of those mountaintop experiences.  Your senses are in over-drive - sound, sight, smell, hearing, touch...all are at peak efficiency.  You become determined to drink in every moment.

But you have to come down the mountain again. The next day, there are bills to be paid, journeys to be made.  New wives discover that their new husbands have smelly feet!  And new husbands discover that their beautiful new wife now wants to stop them drinking and introduce them to couscous!  Reality comes flooding in, and life has to be faced again.

Our Gospel story today is of just one such mountain-top experience.  The disciples find themselves caught up in an event which underscores the whole ministry of Jesus.  There is a view back through history - as Jesus meets with people who have been part of the story of the past...Moses and Elijah, and is affirmed by them.  And then there's a peering into the future, as God's voice from heaven confirms again who Jesus is, and the importance of his mission. "This is my son, the Chosen One...listen to him!"

The disciples who have accompanied Jesus to the mountain-top are having the time of their lives. They don't want to leave...and they even suggest building shelters for Jesus, Elijah and Moses.  They seem to want to capture the moment, and stay in it forever.  But the thing about mountain-top experiences is - you have to come down from them again.  Discipleship involves following, and going on.

Today, we have heard Luke’s account of the ‘Transfiguration’.  Scholars believe that it is based on Mark’s account - because they are remarkably similar, and Mark is believed to be the earliest gospel.  Mark places this story in a pivotal place...it is dead centre at the middle of his 16 chapters.  Before the Transfiguration, Mark deals with Jesus’ ministry around Galilee - his teachings and his miracles.  Then comes the Transfiguration - Elijah, Moses and even the voice of God meeting with Jesus - strengthening him for what is to come.  Then, in Mark’s narrative, Jesus sets his face towards Jerusalem...towards challenge, torture and death.

Mountain-top experiences are part of life - and they are often part of the life of faith.  Some people spend their whole lives trying to regain such experiences.  When I was about 14, I had a powerful experience of the Holy Spirit during a time of worship at a mission in Torquay.  Now, I tend to see that experience as a powerful emotional reaction to the event itself: the music, the excited people and the powerful preaching.  But for years afterwards, I tried to re-capture that moment – drifting from church to church in search of the same feeling I had experienced that one time. 

But faithfulness, I learned, is not achieved by freezing a moment of time...and trying to live in it forever – the way Peter tried to do by offering to build shelters. Faithfulness, and true discipleship, is achieved by following-on in confidence that God is leading...and that what lies ahead is even greater than what we have already experienced.  You have to come down the mountain again...and take what has been seen, learned and experienced on with you...on into the journey.

My hope is that our Sunday services are mini-mountain-top experiences.  They are a moment in the week when we experience God together, and through each other.  They are a couple hours in the week when we climb the mountain, and look beyond ourselves, beyond our day-to-day lives, and briefly touch the face of God.

But we have to come down the mountain.  We have to keep following on...following God into our every-day lives...taking what we have said, done and experienced with us.  We allow our worship, the words we say, the actions we do, to permeate our daily lives...colouring them, perfuming them.  Because of our mini-mountaintop experience we somehow live lives that are more infused with meaning, more alert to what God is doing in our lives, and through us in the lives of others.

The mountain-top of religious experiences is not where the Kingdom is found.  It is spoken of there, it is preached about there.  It is encouraged and prayed for there.  But it is found when you come down the mountain.  It’s not about the Sunday Service...it’s about the daily service...the giving of service to our families, our co-workers, our friends and our neighbours.  Inspired at the mountain-top, we go back into the valley to bring the light of Christ to everyone we meet.  Just as Jesus left the mountain and then set his face towards Jerusalem, healing and teaching along the way, so we too are called from this mountain top out into the world.

Over the last few weeks, we’ve been exploring some of the metaphors of the Kingdom, in Jesus’ parable. Jesus compares the Kingdom to small things:  a mustard seed, a grain of wheat, a pinch of salt.  Jesus encourages us to look for the Kingdom in the small things we do in his name.  The Kingdom is found in the kind word, or the genuine smile of greeting.  It is found in the gift to a refugee, or the honest completion of a tax return.  It is found in the committed and regular giving to God’s work through the church.  It is found in the act of turning up, week by week, to encourage one another with our singing and our prayers.  It is found in the forgiveness offered to those who have wronged us.  It is found in the lifting of a burden from another’s shoulders.

At the very end of this service I will use these words: “Go, in peace to love and serve the Lord”.  When you hear those words, take a moment.  As the procession exits the church, marking the end of our worship, and while Peter plays a voluntary, take that moment to ask yourself this question:  “Jesus left the mountaintop to sacrifice himself for the World.  As I leave this mini-mountaintop today, what sacrifice can I offer, what service can I render, how can I play my part in bringing the Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven?”  Amen.

The Search for Wisdom

Matthew 13.47–53

I want us to think this morning about the importance of wisdom.  This morning’s gospel brings to a close a series of readings we’ve been considering about the Kingdom.  Jesus ends his parables with a rather enigmatic phrase.  He says, ‘every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old’.  Jesus is telling his disciples that the wise teacher of faith will use the best of the old knowledge, and combine it with the new, in the task of bringing the Kingdom to pass. Wisdom requires the acquisition and then the wise use of knowledge, both past and present, old and new.

               A key theme of Matthew’s Gospel is that Jesus is the living, breathing personification of Divine Wisdom.    The Hebrew Bible often sings hymns of praise to Divine Wisdom, and, often, wisdom is given a personality.  Take for example, these lines from the first chapter of the book of Proverbs:

Wisdom cries out in the street;

in the squares she raises her voice - {…}

‘How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple?

How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing

and fools hate knowledge?

               I find these lines encouraging.  They remind me that teachers and writers throughout the ages have always despaired of reluctant human beings are to embrace wisdom.  Just like I do.  I despair of the flat earthers, for example, who in the face of overwhelming evidence continue to insist the earth is flat – because the Bible says it has ‘corners’.  I despair of biblical literalists, who insist that the Bible should be read literally.  They fail to understand the genre or different biblical writings, and they discount the work of scholars and commentators, with much greater knowledge.  To give a specific example of what I mean, consider the Creation Story.  We know now, beyond any reasonable doubt, that the world was not created in six days, as one of the creation stories of Genesis suggests.  What are we to do with this knowledge?  Do we throw out the whole Bible, because one of its stories has moved from being read as history towards being understood as myth?  No, of course we don’t.  The wise scribe (as Jesus says) is like the master of a household who brings out of his treasure what is old and what is new.  The old – that is the Genesis story of creation – is enriched by the new – that is the findings of science.  It morphs from being inaccurate history, into beautiful and poetic metaphor, teaching us that God is the hand and the power behind the Universe.

Outside of the world of Scripture, by the way, I also despair at those who still refuse to believe that human-made climate change is real!

Human beings have always been subject to spin, fake news, and they have always acted on instinct, rather than fact.  Fools have always hated knowledge.  Perhaps this is because they worry that accepting such knowledge would mean a big change in their life and lifestyle.  Fools detest change, instinctively.  And they have always scoffed at those who do put in the hard work to find out what is true and good and right.  ‘What do these scientists know?’.  ‘Theologians?  Pah!’

               Four and a half centuries before Jesus, there was a famous man in Greece, called Plato.  He was a philosopher – a word made up of two Greek words, ‘philia’, meaning love; and ‘sofia’ meaning wisdom.  A philosopher, then, is simply someone who loves wisdom.    Plato had a tremendous impact on his time, and in the centuries afterwards.  His thinking was widely known, and often quoted.  I would be extremely surprised if Jesus had never heard of him.

               Plato offered the World a simple metaphor for the accumulation of wisdom…the metaphor of a cave.  Imagine, he said, that you were born in a cave, facing the wall.  And that this is the only life you had ever known.  On the wall of the cave in front of you were shadows of things which you believed were real.  Trees, houses, people. This was your whole life.  A tree was just a shadow of a tree.  A house was just a shadow of a house.

               Imagine, then, said Plato, that one day something made you turn around.  To your surprise, you found that there are people standing behind you, who are holding up wooden silhouettes of the trees, the houses, and the people.  Suddenly, your eyes have been opened.  You realise that there is a cause of the shadows.  Your whole world-view has shifted.

               Then, said Plato, imagine that you notice the daylight, shining behind the people with the silhouettes.   Your enquiring mind has been awakened…and so you make your way to the entrance of the cave.  And then, stepping into the sunlight, you find our exactly what a real tree looks like, and a real house, and real people.

               The Cave, suggested Plato, is a metaphor for the quest for Wisdom on which we are all invited.  It is a way of life, which anyone can follow, and it is a component part of Way of Jesus.  And it is a prize worth selling everything you own to possess – just like the pearl of great price, or the treasure hidden in the field of Jesus’ parables.

               But isn’t Jesus talking about the Kingdom of Heaven, not wisdom per se?  Well, yes.  But, the Kingdom of Heaven is first and foremost a place in which Divine Wisdom reigns supreme. 

               It is Divine Wisdom, for example, which teaches us that in giving things away, we accumulate great wealth. 

               It is Divine Wisdom which teaches us that forgiveness is the only way to deal with hatred.

               It is Divine Wisdom which teaches us that God’s voice is often best heard in silence.

               It is Divine Wisdom which teaches us that it is servants who make the best leaders.

               It is Divine Wisdom which gives us a King who has a Cross as his throne.

The Kingdom of Heaven is an upside down place.  There is almost nothing in the Kingdom which feels normal to a society which values hatred, greed, the accumulation of stuff, fake news, celebrity, and worldly power.  That’s why it is such a hard message to communicate to the world.

Wisdom cries out in the street;

in the squares she raises her voice - {…}

‘How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple?

How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing

and fools hate knowledge?

Amen.