Walking on the Water

Matthew 14.22-36

Have you ever heard of William Walker? Walker was a diver, who was born in the 1800s. He was one of the first divers of the Royal Navy, training in 1887 at Portsmouth Dockyard. As one the nation's earliest divers, he had many exciting adventures. On one occasion, he was called to Wales, to rescue drowning miners from a pit collapse. He was one of the divers who worked on the Blackwall Tunnel, and he held the distinction of being the diving instructor for King George V. However, the achievement for which he is most famous was something rather more local to us.

Between 1906–1911, working in water up to a depth of 20, he shored up Winchester Cathedral, using more than 25,000 bags of concrete, 115,000 concrete blocks, and 900,000 bricks.

Winchester Cathedral, you see, had been built about 800 years before by the Normans. At the time, the land all around the Cathedral was essentially a peat bog. So, with their typically cunning engineering, the Normans built their cathedral on a giant raft. For 800 years, the Cathedral had essentially floated on top of the peat bog. But by the end of the 19th Century, with the peat bog drained away to create the town of Winchester, the cathedral had been in imminent danger of collapse as it sank slowly into the ground. William Walker was responsible for shoring up the walls by putting concrete underneath them. He worked six hours a day—in complete darkness, because the peat sediment suspended in the water was impenetrable to light.

It's a wonderful story, isn't it?...the story of a church floating on water for so many years. And yet, this is actually a very old image. Matthew's story of Jesus walking on the water, begins with a very similar metaphor.  Water, for the Israelites, was a symbol of chaos, and challenge. It was over the waters that the Spirit of God had brooded, in Genesis, before God spoke and brought forth the land. It was through the dangerous waters that God brought the Israelites out of Egypt. Jonah and the Whales. Noah and the Flood...over and over again, the ocean is a symbol of chaos, difficulty and challenge.

So, to a first century reader of Matthew's gospel, the idea of Jesus sending all his disciples off in a boat would have been instantly recognised as another story of challenge on the ocean. The boat, in this story, can very easily be pictured as the church...containing, at that time, all the disciples of Jesus. In fact, Matthew goes still further, to make his point. Where our English translation describes the little boat as being battered by the waves, Matthew's original word, in Greek, was 'tortured'...the little boat was being 'tortured' by the waves, just as the church in Matthew's day was being tortured by the Authorities.

This then is Matthew's picture of the church. Jesus sends out his followers into a leaky tub, into an ocean of challenge, difficulty and chaos. This is not a church which rides above the difficulties of life, but a church which finds itself in the middle of everything life can throw. Buffeted, even tortured, by the world around it, church members look to the shore, desperate for a word of encouragement from Jesus, wondering why he is not in the boat with them.

Because, you see, the little boat on the Sea of Galilee has left Jesus behind on the shore, just as the church left Jesus behind in history. It seems impossible that Jesus could be with us...and yet, as the morning dawns, the disciples in the boat see Jesus...striding towards them, over the chaos of the sea. He calls to them, over the storm..."Take heart! It is I! Do not be afraid".

But like us, Peter still wonders. Can this really be Jesus? He proposes a little test. "If it is you, Lord, command me to come to you on the water". Jesus replies with a single word, "Come". Peter - the first disciple, the archetype for all disciples, steps out of the boat, walking towards Jesus on top of the water! He does what Jesus does. He copies him, and for a while, he succeeds. But as he looks at the storm all around him, he becomes frightened, and starts to sink.

Jesus reaches out his hand, and rescues Peter. He helps him into the boat, commenting sadly, that Peter is of little faith. "How could you doubt?" Jesus asks, sadly.

I wonder how many times you have heard this story. And I wonder how many times, like me, you have been told that this is a story about faith. Certainly all the preachers I heard as a youngster used to tell me that Peter's problem was his lack of faith. "If only Peter had had more faith...he could have overcome his fear, and conquered the act of walking on the water". And therefore, the message to us is often read as "If only we had more faith, we could conquer all our problems in spectacular ways".

But I wonder.

There is a problem, for me, with that interpretation. Can it really be that God wants us to believe that bad things happen to us because we don't have enough faith? Can it be that God wants us to feel guilty when we are sick, or when accidents happen, or when people persecute us...guilty that these things are happening because we don't have enough faith? I'm not sure I can believe that.

Faith is not about being able to walk on the water. Only God can do that. Faith is about believing, in the midst of the storm and the chaos of life, that Jesus is in the boat with us. In spite of all the evidence, faith is the act of believing that God is in the boat with us, sharing our pain, sharing in our weakness. God is made real in the community of faith as it makes its way through the storm, battered - tortured - by the waves.

Are your numbers falling? "It is I: do not be afraid"

Do you struggle to respond to all the challenges of your community, your building, the starving world? "It is I: do not be afraid"

Are you feeling ill or depressed? "It is I: do not be afraid".

Are you doubting the reality of God in your life? "It is I: do not be afraid"

Are you nearing the end of life? "It is I: do not be afraid"

This too is the message of the Cross. On the cross, all the chaos of the world was brought together in one sustained attack on the goodness of God. Christ, the one who mediates between God and Man, is overpowered by the chaos of humanity, and humanity punishes him, tortures him, and kills him. Jesus shares in the suffering of all human beings on the cross...and yet manages to overcome them. He walks on the water, above the chaos. He rises from the dead, above the chaos.

Peter's mistake in the boat was to fail to recognise the transforming power of God. Instead, he tried to do it himself. "Let me walk on the water" was his cry.

I remember my daughter, when she was very small, struggling with a jigsaw puzzle. I got frustrated at her lack of progress, and bent down to help her - and was astonished at her reply. "Do it myself!" she said.
Isn't that what we all do, from time to time, to God? In spite of all that God has taught us about how to live, we still try to 'do it myself'. We try to walk on the water, instead of letting Jesus come and sit beside us in the boat.

Jesus says to us: "Live simply. Do not worry about what tomorrow will bring"
We say "Do it myself!" and hoard possessions and cash in case of the coming storm.

Jesus says to us: "You are members of one body, fruit on the vine of the church"
We say "Do it myself" and decide that we don't need the hassle of coming to church.

Jesus says: "Blessed are the peacemakers - the children of God"
We say "Do it myself" and harbour our hatreds and our lack of forgiveness for decades

Peter's problem was that he didn't understand that Jesus comes to us through the chaos of life. Peter didn't have enough faith in the God who walks beside us on the road, or who comes to sit beside us in the boat. He wanted to get to Jesus, through the chaos - instead of letting Jesus come to him.

We yearn for instant answers, instant solutions. We want to walk on the water too! But Jesus wants to sit beside us in the boat...going through all the things of life....sharing them, and helping us to learn through them. There are two storm stories in the Gospel.  In one of them, Jesus says to the waves, "Quiet, be still".  In the other, Jesus strides above the storm, through the storm.  You see, Jesus doesn't always still the storm...sometimes he uses the storm for greater purposes...

If I am poor, Jesus can show me how rich I truly am. If I am sick, Jesus can show me how well I really am. On the other hand, if I am rich, Jesus can show me my poverty. If I am healthy, Jesus can point me to where my sickness lays. In EVERY circumstance of life, there is something to learn, some new growth for our souls to embrace. Life - the storm, the ocean, - its the proving ground for our souls. It is here that Jesus prepares us for life which goes on for ever. It is here that he sits beside us in the boat.

So, let me ask you. What is Jesus teaching you today? As he sits beside you in the boat, in the middle of your own particular storm, what is he saying to you?
Can you hear him?
If you can't, then seek him out.
How? Well, here are some suggestions:

First, why not speak to another Christian - listen for the voice of Jesus through the voices of other believers. Chat with Christian friends over coffee in the Cafe. Seek out a priest, or a deacon, and share what's on your heart. Listen, together, to what God is saying.

Secondly - and here's a really radical thought...why not Read Jesus' Words! Try actually opening the Bible you keep on your shelf at home! Start with the Gospels, and work through the New Testament...leave the Old Testament until you've got some practice at hearing God's voice.

Thirdly - give yourself some space to think, and to pray. Switch off the TV or the radio from time to time. Spend time in quietness, mulling over the circumstances of your life....asking God to teach you what God wants to teach you...reflecting on all that is happening, and how God is growing your soul today.

Fourth - why not buy a book? We have a book-shop downstairs, full of interesting, challenging, encouraging books which will lead you to think more about what God is saying to you, each day.

And Finally - be diligent about meeting with the rest of us. Don't stop being together in church. We are in this boat together - and together we will hear Jesus calling over the waves: "It is I: do not be afraid".

Amen

Anders Behring Breivik - Massacre in Norway

Romans 8. 26-39
This morning, I’m going to tell you a story.  It’s a fictional story, based on the recent events in Norway, and on today’s reading from Paul’s letter to the Romans.  I don’t claim that every detail in this story is correct.  But I offer it as a thought…as a story…in the hope that it will open our imaginations to what might be possible in the love of God. Are you sitting comfortably?  Then I shall begin…

Once upon a time, not very long ago, a young man called Anders lived in Norway, the land of the Norsemen, the Vikings.  Anders was blond, and blue-eyed…a true Viking, descended from Vikings.  In his history books he read about the time when the Vikings had ruled vast swathes of Europe, a time when blond and blue eyed people had been in complete control.

But looking around his own country now, he saw that Vikings were no longer in control.  Instead, Norway was ruled by faceless bureaucrats in far away Brussels.  He saw that his country was being too kind, too welcoming to people from other countries.  Foreigners were crowding his streets…people from Africa, people from Asia, people from parts of Europe which certainly weren’t blond.  And worse than that “these people are taking jobs from us Norwegians.  They are claiming money from our Government, living in our houses, and stealing our jobs.” thought Anders.

Slowly, day by day, anger started to grow within Anders.  He couldn’t understand that the world was a shrinking place, in which overpopulation, famine and war were driving desperate people across all sorts of borders, in search of a better life.  No-one challenged his thinking.  When he complained about black people in his city, friends and family members would just shrug their shoulders, and agree.  It was easier to agree…even when they didn’t agree.  Anders always looked so angry about the issue.  It was easier to just go along with him…not to challenge him.

Slowly, slowly, the hatred grew.  Anders began to look around for someone to blame.  Someone had to pay for this situation.  It was impossible for him, alone, to attack all the foreigners in his country…there were too many of them.  But perhaps he could attack those who had let them in?  In his unchallenged, warped mind, his anger turned towards the leaders of Norway.  It was the fault of the Government.  It was the fault of the Prime Minister.  It was the fault of the Labour Party of Norway.

A desperate, angry plan began to form.  Anders gathered his resources.  Guns, bullets, explosives.  He built up a stock-pile, until one day, on the 22nd of July 2011, he was ready to show the Government that they were wrong to let so many foreigners into his country.

So, with deliberate care, and seething rage, Anders planted his bomb.  The bomb would go off right outside the Prime Minister’s office.  Anders planted his bomb, and then waited for it to explode.

Boom!  The bomb ripped a hole in the Government’s main building.  The Prime Minister’s office was shattered.  Anders had started his war.  What next?

Anders knew that there was an island where the ruling party of Norway took its young people for training and indoctrination into their stupid beliefs about the equality of all human beings.  That is where he would strike next.  Gathering his many guns and bullets, Anders set off for the Island.  He would strike a blow not just at the present Government, but at the next generation of politicians.  He would teach them a lesson they would never forget.

Arriving at the island, Anders set to work at his grim task.  He opened fire on hundreds of people, sending them scattering all over the island…they climbed trees, they tried to swim to the mainland, they barricaded themselves into log cabins.  Terrified.

At the end of his days work, 84 people – mainly young people – had been slain.  Another seven had died in the earlier bomb blast.  Anders was content.  He had sent a message to the whole world…a message that no-one could ignore.  He allowed himself to be taken…to be arrested…so that through his forthcoming trial, his message of “Norway for Norwegians” would have the maximum impact, as the press followed every twist and turn.

Then, one day, many years later, after spending the rest of his life in prison, Anders died.  There were many who celebrated that day.  Many of the parents of those children, the ones who were gunned down in their prime, believed that prison had been too kind a treatment for Anders.  “Now, he’ll get what’s coming to him”, they said to themselves.  “Now, he’ll burn in hell”.

Anders himself had thought that would probably happen too.  After years of thinking about his actions in jail, he had come to understand that he had taken the wrong course.  But what could he do about it?  What was done was done.  And if there was a God…well, he’d just have to take the punishment, wouldn’t he?
Anders’ day of judgement had arrived.  He stood, in the presence of God.  An awesome light shone all around him…a light which pulsed with love, and yet also judgement.  There was clarity in that light.  Anders knew that everything he had done, everything he had thought, every warped impulse was seen, judged, weighed in the balance, by that light.  And yet, there was love too…along with judgement.

Anders took his courage in his hands.  He looked into the light.  And said…”I suppose you’re going to send me to hell now?”

“That’s up to you”, said the Voice of God.

“But I have done awful things,” said Anders.

“Yes,” said Jehovah, “you have”.

“So, surely I deserve to rot in hell”

“Probably,” said Jesus.  “But then so do many of my children.  Your crimes were particularly horrible…but you are not the only one.  Many of my children have killed their brothers and sisters.  It started with Cain and Abel…and it has never stopped.  Many have lived lives of hate.  Others have stood by, taking no action at all, while their brothers and sisters have died in famine and war.  Many have carried on partying, taking massive bonuses and living on luxury yachts, while others around them were dying.  Your hatred is great, Anders…but it’s not all that unusual.”

“So what’s going to happen to me?  What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m going to love you,” said the Spirit.

“What?” said Anders, struggling to take it in.

“I’m going to love you,” said God.

“How?  How can you do that?  After all I’ve done?”

“I can’t do anything else.” said Love.  “That’s what I am.  Love.  That’s what I do. Love.  I created you, and the whole Universe out of love.  It was love that brought you into being.  And it is love which will bring you home.”

Anders was speechless.

“Did you ever read the Bible, during the life I gave you?” asked Love.

“Well…” replied Anders, “bits of it”.

“There’s a passage in there that I am especially proud of”, said God.  “It was written by a child of mine called Paul.  Now he was a mess…let me tell you.  He actually started out by murdering followers of Jesus.  But eventually, Love got to him…and he saw the light.  He wised up, and got the message of Love.  Fortunately, for other Christians, he did it while he was still on Earth.  Paul ended up writing this, in a letter to some Roman Christians:  ‘I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord’.  Pretty good eh?” said God.

“Lovely,” said Anders, “but what does it mean?”

God sighed, and said, “It means, Anders, that whatever you have done, whatever warped influences you gave into, whatever your weaknesses, whatever your thoughts, whatever you were driven by madness to do, I will never stop loving you.  I will always keep on inviting you to give in to my love.”

Anders didn’t know how to respond to this.  It was so far removed from what he had expected.  He had spent years of seething anger in his cell, watching the little television that he was allowed.  Over the years, countless journalists and commentators on his crimes had convinced him that he was at best , nothing. Or at worse, he was evil personified.  Even if he believed in God, Anders had always thought that there could be no other outcome for him than death and destruction.  In his heart, he had accepted destruction as inevitable.  He had even started to embrace it as welcome.  He looked up to God…

“What if I don’t want to be loved?” he asked.  “I’m not sure that I want it.  I’ve kind of got used to who I am, and what I’ve done.  I’m not sure I want to give that up.”

“That,” replied Love, “is why I said that the decision about whether or not you will go to hell is yours”

“What do you mean?” asked Anders

“I will never stop loving you, Anders.  But I can’t make you want my love.  That’s your choice.  I give you free will to accept my love, or reject it.  After all, I can’t make you love me.  That wouldn’t be love…it would be manipulation.”

“And what happens if I reject your love?”

“You’ll die, forever.  Remember what I told you…I created you out of Love.  My love brought you into being.  My love has sustained you and all people, even through the terrible things you have done.  But now, you have a choice.  If you refuse my love, you’ll gradually wither up, and die.  It’s a bit like food.  If you stop eating, eventually you will die.  If you stop receiving my love, you’ll fade away.  My bible talks about those who reject my love being thrown into the fire, or thrown into the rubbish dump called Gehenna…where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.  Those are pictures… metaphors that I have used to warn all my children of what happens when they reject my love.  Fading away, becoming less and less real, wailing and crying in the pain of selfishness, until eventually, destruction takes place.  Paul called it “the second death”.  Anders… don’t choose that path.  Despite all you’ve done, I still love you”.

“But what about justice?” said Anders.  “Surely there has to be some justice for the people I killed?”

“Yes,” said God.  “And for all the millions who have died through the selfishness of my other children.  And for all those who lived lives of abject poverty because the people of the West would not share the world’s resources.  And for all those who died in leaky boats escaping wars over oil and gold.  There has to be justice for all of them too.”

“So…how?” said Anders.  “If all the world is guilty of sin…can you punish everybody?”

“I could.  But what kind of Father sends all his children to hell? All have sinned, Anders. All have fallen short of the glory of God.   Love, Anders.  Love is the only way.  My justice is not like the justice of human beings.  My justice is tempered with love.  My judgement sees all that is wrong with the way humans chose to live…and then meets it with love.”

“How?” asked Anders.

“Through a cross.” said Jesus.  “A cross where love and mercy meet.  A cross where God and human beings have the chance to connect, through Love.  A cross where the evil that all human beings are capable of doing is confronted with the force of my love.”

“My Lord, and my God!” said Anders.  “Teach me more about this kind of Love!”

Amen

Deacons, Priests and Ministers

A sermon for the Welcoming of Tony Forrest: Assistant Curate
3rd July 2011 - the Feast of St Thomas


John 20. 24-29

Back in 1983, the movie world was stunned when Sean Connery decided to reprise his role as James Bond. He was by that time decidedly middle aged - and had not played Bond since 1971. Movie-legend has it that after he finished filming for 'Diamonds are Forever' he said to his wife "never again". But she was horrified, and replied "no - never say 'never again'!"The title of the 1983 movie was a bit of a joke at Connery's own expense. It was a way of him recognising that he had been a bit rash in his original statement.

And that's something I think we've probably all done at one time or another, isn't it?  I know I have.

It was certainly something that Thomas the Apostle said.  "I will never believe that Jesus has risen from the dead...not until I put my finger in the holes made by the nails in his hands and in his side".  I imagine that he felt rather embarrassed when Jesus turned up in front of him and said, effectively, "Here you are then!  Stick your fingers here....and here".  Thomas, of course, didn't do what he had said he would do, with such bravado. Instead, he fell to his knees and uttered one of the most complete, yet pithy, statements about Jesus in the whole of the Bible:  "My Lord and My God".

Thomas is, of course, known as 'Doubting Thomas'...and yet, I'm not sure that we are being very fair to the poor man.  Just a few verses earlier in John's Gospel we read that the rest of the Disciples were just as unsure about what had happened to Jesus.  Mary Magdelene's first response to finding the empty tomb is to run back to the Disciples and tell them that someone had taken away Jesus' body.  Peter and John doubt what she has told them...and they run to the tomb to see for themselves.  Then, even after Mary has met the risen Lord, (having first mistaken him for the gardener) the Disciples don't seem very keen to believe her.  That same evening, they are locked away behind closed doors, afraid, unsure...all except Thomas who was evidently not with them at that point.  It takes an appearance of Jesus among them for them to finally 'rejoice'. (Jn20.20).  As with Thomas, a little later, Jesus shows them his wounds, and then, the text tells us, "the Disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord"

Thomas, then, was not the only doubter.  He was just the last one to have the opportunity of having his doubts dealt with by Jesus.  The story is, then, not so much about Thomas' doubt, but about Jesus' revelation of himself.  It is Jesus who graciously reveals himself to Thomas, and the other disciples.  It is Jesus who initiates and substantiates their faith.  Faith, as St Paul taught us, is a gift from God...it is something that God himself gives us, not something we manufacture for ourselves.

The Story of Thomas points us to Jesus - who is, in the words of the Writer to the Hebrews "the author and perfecter of our faith". (Heb12.2).  It is God, through Jesus who created the world.  It is God, through His Spirit who Sustains our very existence.  It is God, through Jesus who continually redeems our lives and our world.  Jesus is the Alpha and the Omega....the A and the Z....the beginning and the end.  We are all capable of being doubters...just like the Disciples, who doubted, and denied and even betrayed their Lord.  But God is the Source...the Divine Spark...the energy which sustains us in all we do, all we believe.  It is God, in Jesus, who calls us to live for him; to give ourselves willingly and with faith to our "Lord and our God" - whatever our doubts.

Today, is a very special day for us, here in North End.  Over the last few months, God has been at work among us in some very special ways. He has been going before us, as he went before the Israelites in the desert.  He has been loving us, and serving us, even when we have doubted, like Thomas.  After many changes in staffing over the last year, God has been putting the pieces in place for a new Ministry Team to arise.  This time last year, our Ministry Team had been reduced quite substantially.  After Ruth, then  Di, and then Bev moved on to new pastures, we were left with only one full-time Priest...yours truly...supported only by the fantastic efforts of Margaret Freeman, dear Fr. Joseph - when he could spare the time from his studies, and our two ordinands, Kim and Damon.  For a while, we wondered what God was doing among us.  For a while, I found myself trying, ineffectively, to manage all three churches.

So we prayed.  We prayed for God to send us new Priests - new workers for the vineyard.  And just look how he responded!

First, Linda joined us - tentatively at first, then with increasing confidence that God was calling her to this parish, and to this ministry.  Then Jeff Harvey walked through our doors, wondering whether God might be calling him too.  He was....and Jeff has since been an absolute rock on which we have begun to build our pastoral ministry.  Two weeks ago we welcomed Fr Charles as our new Team Vicar - a new, full-time minister, called by Jesus to be a Shepherd to the people of St Nicholas, and to the whole parish.  Along the way, God has called others too.  I'm not going to embarrass folks by naming them...but we've seen God leading people to cross the threshold of our churches into all sorts of new and exciting ministries.  We've seen others who have returned to our churches after periods of being elsewhere in their lives.  We've seen existing church members taking up new ministries and new tasks...while others have continued faithfully in the calling God has already given them.  In the last year we've had six confirmations, a new Musical Director at St Mark's, new members of the PCC and DCCs, a new Parish Warden, and new volunteers in the Community Cafe.  We've appointed a new verger at St Mark's and we've grown yet another ordinand, in the shape of Barbara O'Sullivan.

God is truly going before us...leading us as individuals, and as a parish, into all sorts of exciting new ventures...despite our doubts, despite our human failings, God is at work.

And I believe God is at work today.  For today we welcome a new minister into our midst.  Not just a new minister for the team, but a new minister full stop.  Tony has been ordained as a Deacon for less than 24 hours - and they don't come much newer than that!  In a few moments, I'm going to invite Tony to read us the legal declarations which he must make on taking up his appointment.  But before that, I thought is might be helpful to make sure we all understand what a deacon is!

Let's start with what a deacon is not!  A deacon is not a sort of 'baby priest' - or a priest in waiting....although there is something of that in Tony's situation, because we fully expect that he will be ordained as a priest in a year's time.  But actually, being a deacon, is at the heart of what it means to be a minister in the church today.  And its worth remembering that no priest ever stops being a deacon.  Even a Bishop is still a deacon...something that Bishop Christopher demonstrated very powerfully yesterday by washing the feet of the all the new deacons.

The word 'deacon' comes from a Greek word, diakonos - which meant 'servant', 'waiting man', 'minister' or 'messenger'.  The first deacons were appointed by the Apostles, who found that during the early days of the church, when everyone was eating together, they were spending too much time in waiting at tables, and in general administration...they were neglecting their primary call to be the theologians, leaders and teachers of their community.

So a deacon is a servant....and in serving, the deacon represents the service to which every Christian is called.  In many ways, all of us in this parish have diaconal ministries.  We all serve one another, and the world around us, in many different ways.  Working in the cafe, cleaning and maintaining buildings, sitting on committees, singing, visiting the sick, serving at the Altar, teaching at Sunday School, administering the papers and finances of the parish...all of these are diaconal roles.  But Tony, and Linda, and Charles, and Margaret and I, have all been called to represent that diaconal role in  particular way.  We are called to model it as a way of life to which all Christians are called.  So when you see one of us with a hand down a U-bend, or lugging tables, or painting a wall, or making the coffee, or filling out the endless paperwork of the Anglican Church!...we're being deacons - called to a ministry of service, just like everyone here.

But as ordained deacons, we are also 'set aside' by the church for some particular ministries.  We have been given rather expensive training for particular specialist tasks...especially the tasks of preaching and teaching and  leading worship. Ordained Deacons are 'set apart' from some of the day to day servant-tasks of all the people - because communities need leaders, and teachers, and experts in worship....so that all that is said and done in our worship can be of the highest standard possible.  Ordained deacons also have a particular role in the worship of the church.  Deacons come from the people. They speak on behalf of the people, and to the people...calling the whole congregation to confession,  calling them to share peace, calling them to declare their faith, and encouraging them to go out at the end of the Mass to love and serve the Lord.

I hope that helps a bit - to understand something of what all of us up here in the fancy clothes are attempting to do with our lives as we respond to the call of God.  It's something we desperately need your prayers for...so please pray for us, and especially for Tony, as he takes up this vital task.  Pray too for Linda and Jennifer, as they get used to seeing Tony in a clerical collar - and as they make the transition from East Meon to Portsmouth!

Tony's collar, by the way, like mine, is a symbol...an important symbol.  It resembles the collar of a slave....a ring of steel round the neck.  It's a collar which is meant to remind all of us deacons that we are called to be servants of the servants of God.  You are the servants of God...that is your calling...but we are called to be your servants!  It's pretty mind-blowing, really!  We serve you by offering you leadership and teaching...teaching which we pray will be transformational for us all!

In a year, we pray that Tony will be made a priest, as well.  You'll be glad to know that I'm not going to explain the difference - or rather the additional calling - which being a priest adds to that of a deacon.  We'll cover that next year!

Now, before I ask Tony to read his declaration to the church, which will mark his formal acceptance by us as our new Assistant Curate, I'm going to offer Tony three symbols of the particular ministry he is called to exercise - as we all are.  I'm going to invite him to accept these symbols, and then to lay them upon the altar, as a sign of offering these ministries to God.

First a Bible:  Teach us, Tony, from these pages.  This book contains all that is necessary for us to obtain the salvation of our souls...and we don't know it well enough.  Teach us...for we need to know what it contains.

Do you accept the charge you have been given?

Secondly:  A Chalice.  Tony, you are called to serve this parish through worship.  During your ministry, you will administer the Holy Communion of Christ to the people of this parish whom you will hold in your heart through prayer.  In worship you will both call and lead the people to repentance, to faith, and to action for Christ.  

Do you accept the charge you have been given?

Finally:  An apron:  Tony, along with every member of the Body of Christ you are called to a ministry of service to other Christians, and to the wider world.  You are called to exemplify that ministry, so that we may all be challenged and encouraged by your example - learning from you the power of serving Christ in one another, and loving as he loves us.

Do you accept the charge you have been given?

{Tony then reads his Declaration to the Congregation, and is welcomed into the Ministry Team}

The End of the World? Harold Camping and all that...

Revelation 21: 1-14

I guess you've all probably heard by now that according to Pastor Harold Camping of California, none of us should be here this evening.  Pastor Camping is a retired Civil Engineer...not a trained priest...but he conducted his own research into the Bible's prophecies about the end of the world, and confidently predicted that the world was going to end yesterday.

He was so convinced that he had got his calculations right that he has been running major advertising campaigns across the USA and other part of the world...warning them that May 21st was judgement day.  Massive advertising hoardings were erected, in English and Arabic announcing 'the great the terrible day of the Lord'. Scandalously, followers of Mr Camping have been selling their homes, and cashing in their investments to pay for all this nonsense.

Oh dear.  I bet he feels a bit of a silly-billy today.

The troubling thing is, Harold Camping is not the first person to have predicted the end of the world.  John of Toledo thought it would happen on 23 September 1186.  William Bell predicted 5 April 1761.  Nothing apocalyptic happened on 28 April 1843, or on 21 September 1945.  Jehovah's Witnesses have predicted the end of the world 10 times in the last century!

It's easy to mock.  Actually its very easy to mock. Especially when one considers where these predictions tend to come from.  They have never been made by any of the mainstream churches.  Orthodoxy, Catholicism, Anglicanism...none of the main churches has ever dared to try to predict the end of the world.  Instead, what happens, is that usually part-time bible scholars, especially those with a mathematical brain, attempt to mine the Bible for hints and clues...usually based on numbers (or what we call numerology...the study of mystical numbers).

That was how Mr Camping arrived at his date of yesterday for the end of the world.  He mixed up all sorts of number assumptions - including an imagined, or assumed date of the Great Flood, probably based on the calculations of a medieval numerologist.  He then took texts like those of St Peter.  In his second letter, Peter says that one day to the Lord is as a thousand years, and a thousand years is as one day.  Most Christians would take that to mean that God is not bounded by time in the way that we are.  But for Mr Camping, it was a code...a code which meant he could predict that the end of the world would happen precisely 7,000 years after the Great Flood...because God had said to Noah that he had seven days to warn people of the end of the world.

Numerology is a popular pastime for certain people.  Even Isaac Newton had a go at it...and predicted the end of the world would happen in 2060.  We'll have to wait and see if he was right!

But frankly, numerology its a very silly way to spend your time.  The Bible simply does not contain secret codes for the end of the world.  I'm surprised that none of our numerologist friends have caught on to that yet!

But that is not to say that the Bible fails to ponder what the end of all things might be like.  The writers of the Bible were, almost exclusively, people who lived under oppression.  They were occupied or enslaved people - either by the Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Greeks, the Assyrians or the Romans...to name just a few!  It is no surprise that people who were under such occupation and oppression should begin to tell one another stories....stories about what the world might be like when the oppression was over, when the oppressors were over-thrown and when, from a Jewish perspective, the world would be remade.

This was no different for the early Christians.  By the time that John was writing his 'Revelation' on the Island
of Patmos, Christianity, and Judaism, were going through dark days.  The Temple in Jerusalem had been razed to the ground by the Romans.  Jews were scattered across the known world.  Christians were being persecuted by a Roman political system which insisted that everyone must worship the Divine Emperor.  They were hiding in the Roman catacombs.  Peter had been executed, along with Paul and - tradition tells us - most of the other first followers of Jesus.  It was a dark time, an uncertain time.  Faith was being tested and challenged.

In the middle of this turmoil, St John had a vision.  Some less-than-charitable scholars have suggested that the Island of Patmos was a great place for growing magic mushrooms...but we have no idea whether John was a mushroom picker.  What we do have, as the last book of our Second Testament, is an astounding, poetic, troubling, magnificent vision...a vision of what the world might be like, when all the enemies of God have been  dealt with.

But its not a prediction.  Its a series of complex images...a dreamlike catalogue of angels and demons and great beasts and cities and lakes of fire and multi-headed beasts and anti-christs.  Many is the Christian who has tried to read the book of Revelation, and ended up giving the whole project up, just out of sheer confusion.  Many of the complex, beautiful and terrible images of Revelation mean very little to us.  We don't live in the same world as John...and some of the images he uses have no modern equivalent.  For us to truly understand the book of Revelation would be as difficult as it would be for John to understand a story of blind-dating via the internet.  Our cultures are worlds apart.

And yet, led by the Spirit we believe that the Church has preserved this book for us.  More than that, we believe that this book contains truth, truth which will repay careful study and reflection.  Like all the books of the Bible which the church has so carefully preserved, the Book of Revelation seeks to answer some of the most important questions of life.  Where did we come from?  Where are we going?  Is God involved in our past, present and future?

The book of Revelation's answer to these questions is an emphatic yes.  The whole thrust of Revelation is an assurance that God is caught up the in messy business of this world...he's battling against anti-christs and multi-headed beasts, he's sending out angels and blowing trumpets, he's calling the people of God to battle the forces of evil. The Word of God rides out on a white horse...and has a huge sword coming out of his mouth (which I imagine would be rather uncomfortable).   And crucially, he is promising, in the final chapters, that none of this effort, will be in vain.

John's final great vision is of a holy city...what he calls the New Jerusalem...coming down out of heaven from God.  Interestingly he says that the City is prepared as a bride, adorned for her husband...which is another strange metaphor.  How exactly does a City dress up as a bride?  Maybe some kind of enormous veil? A blue garter wrapped around a tower?  But let's not get hung up on the details!  A wise Bible teacher once told me that the key to understanding the book of Revelation is this:  that what is plain, is main.  And what is main, is plain.  And the plain message of chapter 21 is this:


"I heard a loud voice from the throne saying 'Behold, the home of God is among mortals.  He will dwell with them; they will be his peoples and God himself will be with them;  he will wipe every tear from their eyes.  Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away." (Rev 21.3-4)

This is a resurrection message.  This is a hopeful, passionate, declaration that God is indeed involved with our world...and with our lives.  This is a declaration that God himself will restore the relationship which we human beings have messed up.  He will take away mourning, and crying and pain...and will defeat even death itself.

The people who search the Scriptures for an actual date for Judgement Day are looking for something.  They are hoping, perhaps a little desperately, that among all the awfulness and chaos of this world (in so many places), someone, somewhere, has got things under control.  The point of the book of Revelation is two-fold:  it is to assure us that indeed, someone has got the whole of His Story - history - under control.  But secondly, John writes to seven churches, on behalf of Jesus.  He encourages them, he corrects them, he warns them, and he praises them.  He essentially says to them, through the whole of Revelation that yes, God is in control.  But he chooses to bring about his purposes for the world through us...through me and you...through the Church which bears his name.

And, as Jesus and Paul both reminded us - whether or not the actual world is going to come to an actual end...we are expected to act, always, as if it is about to finish.  Harold Camping may be a numerological crackpot...but he has at least at least reminded us that God calls us to something greater, higher, deeper, broader than the humdrum nature of every-day human existence.  The Holy City, the new Jerusalem, the Bride of Christ - these are all explicit metaphors for the Church...the people of God who are called to work with God, and in God, and through God for the building of God's kingdom on earth.

Will there ever be a Universal Judgement Day?  I don't know.  I suspect not, frankly - not in the sense of a Day when Jesus comes riding on a cloud and winds up human history.  Instead, Jesus comes again every time that there is peace and justice in the world.  Jesus comes again every time a hungry child is fed.  Jesus comes again every time one of us reaches out to our brother or sister with love.  Bit by bit, person by person, day by day...Jesus comes again.

Amen

Just Ordinary Spiritual People

Rector’s Annual Address 2011.


(This is more or less what I said during this morning's service!)


One of the joys of having a computer is receiving 'round robin' emails, which people constantly send me.  One particular email which arrives routinely, every few weeks or so, is one which lists alleged bloopers from Parish Magazines.  Misprints often arise through the use of spell-checkers...those little programmes which look at what you have written, and suggest alternatives. Like last week, when both Christine and I missed the fact that the demon spell-checker has turned Stainer's Crucifixion for next Sunday into Stainer's Cruci-fiction!  Any Islamic readers of our pew news will be delighted...because they believe that Jesus was never crucified!


I have to admit, some bloopers from parish magazines are priceless.  Here's a small selection of my favourites:


"Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It's a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Don't forget your husbands".


"Today the Vicar will preach his farewell sermon after which the choir will sing 'Break Forth into Joy' "


"Notice in the kitchen of a Church Hall: "Ladies, when you have emptied the teapot, please stand upside down in the sink"."


And here's a special favourite of mine:  "During the Easter Sunday service, Mrs Williams of the Mother's Union will lay an egg on the Altar"


Speaking of eggs - it’s nearly Easter, so this seems as good a time as any to think about them.  Eggs, of course, remind us of new life...and Jesus rose from the tomb in a similar way that new born chicks emerge from an egg.  This year, there has been a campaign to produce a Real Easter Egg - chocolate eggs which actually have the story of the Resurrection printed on the side...to try to help an uneducated public make the connection between chocolate eggs and Jesus.


But there is another way in which we can use the image of the egg to contemplate Easter.


The Franciscan priest Richard Rohr invites us to use the egg to understand something perhaps even more profound than the image of an empty tomb.   He suggests that these three elements of the egg - yolk, white and shell, can provide an image for our growth as children of God.  The three elements can be thought of as three stories...there is my story, then there is our story, then there is the story.  Rohr suggests that true, biblical religion (and especially true, biblical Christianity) honours and integrates these three stories.  He calls that process of integration a 'Cosmic Egg of Meaning'.


Let me explain - if I can - and especially in relation to our life together as a parish.


The first level at which we all exist is at the level of the individual.  This is my story...the essential being that I am.  At this level, I live as a private individual - I make my own choices.  I decide what I will believe, about God, or about the world.  I am the one who has the free will to live a creative life, or to vegetate my days away in front of the television.  This is the level of individualism - which is a concept that has really taken hold in recent years...especially in the Western world.  This is the level at which we embrace concepts like celebrity...where we become fascinated with the intricate detail of individual lives.  Hello Magazine is the herald of the individual. Consumerism is its life-blood. Strictly Come Dancing and the X-Factor are all about the small life of individuals, raised for a moment of fame above the normal boredom of human, individualism.


But on its own, being an individual is a very small stage indeed.  It's the little stage where I do my own dance and where the sort of questions we ask ourselves are "Who is watching me?  How do I feel? What do I believe?  What makes me unique?".  


Each of us is, of course, an individual - a loved, beautifully created, individual child of God.  But doing 'life' by ourselves is not the solution to a happy and fulfilled existence.  Unless we draw from something greater than our mere selves, we are doomed to an endless self-critical, or self-deluding individualism... and we will wither and die.  Jesus calls us to something greater, something bigger than mere individualism.  In John 15, verse 5, he warns that 'the branch which is cut off from the Vine is useless'.  And in today's Gospel, he reminds us that He is both the Resurrection and the Life.  Life, in all its fullness cannot be attained by an individual alone.  


And so we move to the second part of the egg...to the 'white' if you like. If the yolk symbolises 'my story', the white symbolises 'our story'.  This is where the life of the individual becomes integrated into the life of a community.  I becomes 'we'.  This is where we find our group...our community, perhaps, or our country,, perhaps our nationality, or our ethnic group.  For many people, the concept of 'us' is often caught up with the kind of music they listen to, or what gang they belong to.  We feel protected inside the group.  We might be members of a Rotary club, or a jam-making club.  We might be supporters of a football team - and gain a sense of purpose by waving flags and signs around.  Now we no longer have to be great by ourselves...we can ride on the coat-tails of other members of our group...other football fans, or other Cocker Spaniel owners.


All of us belong to many groups.  It is necessary for our growth as human beings to move beyond the yolk, into the 'white' - beyond individualism, and into the group.  For Christians, of course, one of the groups that we choose to belong to is the 'Christian Club' - or as we call it, the Church.  Here, with other Christians, we find group identity, and group purpose.  Together we identify what we need to fight for, and fight against.  


For us, in this parish, our mission is enshrined in our Five Year Plan - agreed at last year's APCM. In that plan, we committed ourselves together, as a group, to being a praying, learning, serving, visible church that is diverse and all-inclusive.  That is, in a nutshell...or an egg-shell!...our group identity


In that endeavour, during the last year, we have been prolific together.  We have provided, each week, across the parish, a minimum of 9 services per week. We have ministered to the sick, and to the lonely, to the bereaved, and to the families of baptised children, and to couples preparing for marriage.  We have provided a community cafe, soon to be on five days per week, for our neighbours to meet one another, and migrate from being individuals to being members of a life-giving group.  We have maintained our church buildings, so that the Kingdom is seen in bricks and mortar...as well as in lives.  We have raised funds, and supported mission in other places.  We have sung, we have prayed, we have laughed and we have celebrated.  We have danced...especially at last week's barn dance!  We've together been in pubs, and in schools, at quiz nights and concerts.  


But we need to go broader and deeper still.  If all we are is a group who like doing things together...then we've missed the point entirely.  Groups can be wonderfully nurturing places...essential for our growth away from the smallness of individualism.  But groups can also be dangerous places.  Just think how many people have thrown away their lives for causes which were all about ‘group identity’…everyone from the Crusaders to the Nazis.  If we are not careful, our group can become our God.  We can end up worshipping the Vine, instead of the source of the Vine's life.  We can end up worshipping our Church, rather than the God who gives his life to the Church, just as Jesus gave life to Lazarus.


How can we escape from that trap?  How can we go deeper and broader, beyond the life of our group, our parish, into the very heart of God?


That is the third part of the egg...the shell.  If the yolk is 'my Story' and the white is 'our Story'...then the shell, which should bind it all together is 'the Story'....the sacred story of a God who creates all life and all possibilities, and holds them in his hands.  The way to avoid our group becoming the reason for our existence is to go deeper...into the Divine Life, into that which transcends our individualism and our particular group - and which opens us up to the incredible potential of life to the full...or 'eternal life' as Jesus called it.  "I am the Resurrection and the Life....and everyone who believes in me will never die".  Or as we were reminded a couple of weeks ago, Jesus is the Living Water:  "anyone who drinks of me will never be thirsty again."


The challenge of Richard Rohr's Cosmic Egg is that we should learn to live with all three of its parts.  Not content with individualism, we embrace the group.  Not content with the group, we embrace the whole...the transcendent reality which is God, in Jesus Christ.  Richard Rohr gives some examples of the kind of people who have managed to become like that…people whose sense of themselves and the groups they belong to are enlarged by their connection to the Divine Life.  He lists people like Mahatma Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, Mother Teresa and Julian of Norwich.  And of course, St Francis of Assisi after whom this particular building is named.


But how?


How do we do this?


Here's the nub - and here's the heart of what I want to say to the whole parish today, as my Rector's Annual Message:


I think that I should tell you that I get a great deal of ribbing as I drive around our Diocese and Deanery.  I get teased mercilessly by my colleagues in clerical collars, because I insist on driving around in a car which has stickers on the door. One of my fellow Vicars keeps threatening to turn my stickers upside down, ever since he discovered that they are magnetic! 


Do you remember what the stickers on my door say?  Basically, just four simple words...words we agreed last year would be our motto as a parish..."Just Ordinary, Spiritual People".  


Because that's what we are...or at least, what we aspire to be.  On the one hand, we are ordinary people.  We are individuals, who like many individuals have discovered something of the joy and the challenge of living together in community.  In our case, we live as part of a group we call the North End Portsmouth Team Ministry.  Like other ordinary people, we care about our buildings, and our social programmes.  Like other ordinary people, who belong to other ordinary clubs, we sing in choirs and bands, we run table top sales and fayres, we paint, we dig, we polish, we maintain.  But that is all, basically, the stuff of ordinary people.  Essentially, on that level, there is little difference between what we do and what most community clubs do.  Go into the Buckland Community Centre, or the Baroque Choir, or any charity shop and you will find people who are just as committed, just as passionate about what their organisation, their group, is doing for the community around them.


And rightly so.  And many of our members are members of these other clubs and groups too.


But we aspire to more.  We are ordinary spiritual people.  That's what we claim about ourselves.  We claim that our inspiration comes from a greater, wider, deeper, broader root than pure group identity.  We claim to be people who are spiritual...we are those whose lives are caught up not just with each other, but with the source of all life...the transcendent reality of God.  By our simple claim to be 'just ordinary spiritual people' we claim to be in touch with the whole of the Cosmic Egg...yolk, white, and shell.  We claim to be people whose lives are rooted in the Lord who is the Resurrection and the Life.


So here is our challenge for the coming year. We have laid some strong foundations together in the last few years.  Our buildings are better maintained than they have been for some time.  Our congregation numbers are rising, and our income is holding steady, despite the economic hardships of our age.  But now, we need to go deeper.  Now we need to discover more of what it means to be people who are spiritual beings – those in whom the Holy Spirit makes His dwelling.


We’ve begun to think about what that might mean. Recently, for example, we’ve started holding Healing Services – every two months around the parish - as a chance for us to be touched by God’s healing power for our bodies and our souls.  Soon, you will all be receiving information about a Quiet Day which we plan to hold in Romsey, on September the 24th – a chance to draw aside from the world, and to think about what it means to be God’s Pilgrim People, on the journey of faith.


But I am hoping for more yet.  With new members about to join the ministry team, and with new connections growing with other churches in our Cluster, I hope that over the next few months we will be able to start new groups – home groups, or study groups – so that we can all have the opportunity to go deeper…the chance to meditate upon our faith, and truly begin to connect at a Spiritual level with the source of all life.


But there’s more yet.  What would it mean for us to be truly spiritual people? Could there come a time when anyone who visits any of our churches finds only unconditional love and acceptance.  Sometimes I think we’re nearly there.  Could there come a time when we truly begin to see ourselves as intimately connected not just with each other and God, but with a whole world outside our doors…a world which is desperately lost in the lies of consumerism and individualism?  Could there come a time when we give as much money to alleviate poverty as we currently give to maintain our church buildings?  


That’s the kind of vision that I want to hold before you today.  It’s just not enough for us to be just three churches who happen to have a presence in this area.  God calls us to something greater, wider, deeper, and much more spiritual.  God calls us to be salt and light to North End, Hilsea and Copnor.  God calls us to become the spiritual heart of this community…the first place that anyone turns, when they begin to glimpse that there is more to life than just individualism alone.  We are called to be those who understand the full implications of the Cosmic Egg.  We are called to be those who model what it is to be ordinary, yet deeply spiritual people.  


Amen.

Mothering Sunday

Mothering Sunday - 3rd April 2011

Right then.  Let's start with some basic dictionary definitions.  What is a mother?

According to the Concise Oxford English Dictionary, a mother is:

"A mucilaginous substance produced in vinegar during fermantation by mould-fungus"

Oh.  Hang on.  That can't be right.  Let's try another:

"A term of address for an elderly woman of the lower class"

Better.

How about "the Head of a Religious Community"

or

"A quality or condition which gives rise to another, as in 'necessity is the mother of invention'"

or

"Artificial Mother:  An apparatus for rearing chickens"

Of course we've all heard the word Mother used in many and various contexts haven't we.  The House of Commons is sometimes referred to as 'the Mother of Parliaments'. For our friends in Roman Catholicism, St Peter's in Rome is sometimes referred to as 'the Mother Church'.  And Saddam Hussein had an annoying habit of referring to his warlike excursions into neighbouring countries as 'the Mother of all battles'.

But of course, the most usual use of the word is the one we give to our Mums...to those who gave birth to us, and who brought us up in the world.

True motherhood though, is much much more than the biological function of bringing new life into the world.  That part of motherhood is hard, no doubt.  It takes commitment, devotion, and (apparently!) a lot of pain to fulfill the purely biological process of motherhood.  But, as any mother will tell you - it's after the birth that the real work of mothering begins.

Real mothering takes time, devotion, and skill.  And many mothers have to learn those skills along the way - often by trial and error.  In fact it is very easy to tell new mothers from more experienced ones - especially by the way they relate to their children.

Apparently, when you have your first baby, you spend a great deal of time just gazing at your baby.

When you have your second child, you spend a good deal of every day just making sure that your first child isn't hitting, poking or squeezing the baby

When you have your third child, you spend a little bit of every day hiding from all the children!

There are other signs of an experienced mother too. 

·                  You know you've become a mother when you go out for a romantic meal with your husband, and then reach over to start cutting up his steak. 

·                  You know you've become a real mother when you start thinking about writing a book called "101 things to do with tumble-dryer fluff and dried pasta shells". 

·                  You know you've become a mother when you begin to actually like the smell of mashed carrots and applesauce!

But let's face it, not every mother is successful.  In fact, in these days of fractured or highly mobile families, it is not at all unusual for a young mum to find herself bringing up a child, all alone, with no other family members around.  In this City I know of many young mums who are isolated beyond belief...stuck at the top of a high rise building, perhaps with the lift broken down, or perhaps with too many children to be able to go out into the world, even to seek help.  For many, motherhood becomes an oppressive almost prison-like experience.

The other uncomfortable fact is that some mothers just shouldn't be mothers.  Too many children grow up in homes that are unloving, or where one parent or the other suffers from addictions to drugs or alcohol.  Some parents routinely use violence to bring up their children, others are too poorly educated to realise that sticking a child infront of a playstation all day does not constitute good parenting!

And that is why Mothering Sunday should inspire us to enlarge our vision of what 'mothering' is.  Mothering is something that the whole of society should be involved with.  Put it another way...mothering is just too important to be left to mothers alone!  Not so long ago...in fact within the memories of most of us here, whole villages or towns were involved in bringing up children.  It was perfectly natural for any adult who saw a child mis-behaving to chastise them.  Adults from across the community ran scouts and guides and youth clubs and choirs.  When I was growing up, the parenting that my mum and dad did was supported by my school teachers, my brass band, my drama group, and my cub pack and my church choir.  But now thanks to some mercifully rare, but very high profile cases of appalling child abuse, less and less adults are willing to volunteer...afraid that they will be labelled as paedophiles, just for caring about children.  Many activities which are run for children now can only happen if parents stay in the room, or at the side of the pitch. 

The danger of this over-protection of youngsters is that children don't get the chance to flap their wings, and find out who they are.  Their vision of what life can be is reduced.  For children who are taken to school in the safety of Mum's car, then observed in every dance class or drama group, and taught martial arts only 'so they can stand up for themselves', the world becomes a place to be protected from...rather than to be experienced, relished, and enjoyed for all its beauty, challenge, and yes, even danger.

Mothering then, is something which the Church teaches should be done by the whole community. 

In fact Jesus used some pretty strange language about mothers.  Do you remember the time when someone tugged at his sleeve and said "Your mother and brothers are outside"? Here's the whole short story, from Matthew 12. 46-50

While He was still speaking to the crowds, behold, His mother and brothers were standing outside, seeking to speak to Him. Someone said to Him, “Behold, Your mother and Your brothers are standing outside seeking to speak to You.” But Jesus answered the one who was telling Him and said, “Who is My mother and who are My brothers?” And stretching out His hand toward His disciples, He said, “Behold My mother and My brothers! For whoever does the will of My Father who is in heaven, he is My brother and sister and mother.”

This was pretty tough stuff, wasn't it.  Jesus appears to reject his own Mother, in favour of the larger community of disciples who were following him.  Uh?  What's going on?

For Jesus, the bonds of family were clearly important.  They were so important that when he hung on the cross, one of the things most clearly on his mind was the long-term care of his Mother...which is why he asks John to take care of her.  But before that, by his actions and by his words, Jesus makes it very clear that the family unit - and even the bonds of love between a mother and a child - must take second place to the wider Christian community.

And that's because the Christian wider community is the whole Body of Christ - and the Body of Christ is called, by Christ, to serve and 'mother' the rest of the world.  To those who are sick, or in prison, or hungry, or homeless, Christ says, effectively, "Mother them".   Christ uses a mothering metaphor of himself, when weeping over the lost city of Jerusalem, he says "How long have I desired to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her brood under her wings".

So for the Church, Mothering Sunday has never been just 'Mother's Day'.  You could even wonder whether Mother's Day is just a secular scam, designed to sell cards and flowers, and rack-up the profits of restaurants, by feeding on our guilt about not having phoned our mothers! 

Going further still, someone responded to a few thoughts I put on Facebook this week, on the topic of Mother's Day.  They described Mother's Day as 'A patriarchal construct to reinforce women's subjugation and oppression'!  That might be a little bit strong...but I know where they are coming from.

To be a mother is much more than to be the one human being whose sole duty is to bring up one or more biological children.  Motherhood needs to be understood as a calling that every Christian - man or woman - shares...a calling to 'mother' a world which is need of the kind of wisdom, challenge and upbringing that the very best Mothers are capable of. 

And that, ultimately is surely what we are called to do here in North End.  Our churches, in the North End Team, are called to act like mothers to those around us.  A good mother imparts knowledge, and wisdom.  A good mother reaches down and picks up fallen children.  A good mother inspires their child to be more - to learn more, to grow more...to become the best human being they can become.  A good mother introduces her child to other children, so that all the children learn together what it means to grow up together.  A good mother picks up a child who is crying, and comforts them.  A good mother sits beside the bed of a child who is suffering, and prays for them.  A good mother feeds her children. 

St Mark's, St Nicholas, St Francis churches...all of us, are called to be that kind of mother to the people of our parish.  By our teaching of the Gospel, by our prayers for the sick and the suffering, by our feeding of the hungry poor (in our café, for example), by the visiting of the lonely, by our care for the oppressed, by the provision of opportunities for people - and children - to grow in talent and humanity...we are called to act as a mother to the wider family of the people of North End.

So here's my prayer for this church, and for this parish:  may we discover the fullness of mother-hood revealed to us through the example of Christ.  May we discover the joy of giving loving, motherly service to the lost, the lonely and the poor of our parish.  May we know that fulfilment which comes from sharing God's motherly love to more than just our own families...but to the whole world to which Christ calls us.

Amen

Quiet Day: Talk 1

This is the first of three talks I gave on a Sisters of Bethany Quiet Day on 26th March 2011.  The other two talks can be accessed from links at the end of this post.


Welcome


Its really good to be with you: and I pray that you are going to find this Day of Quiet to be an enriching experience.  I don't know about you, but I find that I don't spend nearly enough time alone and aside from the day to day pressures of life.  My prayer for all of us is that by the end of today, we will find that we've made new connections with God - and that we find that we have eaten spiritual food for the Journey that God calls each of us on.


During the day, I'm going to be offering three talks. Two will be quite in depth - here at the beginning, and then later in the day.  The second talk will be more of a homily - a few thoughts during the Midday Mass.  These talks are, I hope, going to help all of us - myself included -  to refocus on a very important question.  Its a question which undergirds our life and our faith. Its a philosophical question which, if we can answer it well, should inspire us to see ourselves and God in a new light.  What is that question?  Here it is...


Who am I?

That's it.  There are supplemental questions too.  Questions like 'why am I here?'.  And 'where did the Universe come from?'  But at the root, the most basic question that any of us can ask is 'Who am I?'

As I've said, this is a philosophical question.  I imagine that the word 'philosophy' is a slightly nerve-racking word to some of you.  It perhaps conjures up names like Aristotle, Heidegger and Kant...and long, technical words like existentialism.  But please don't worry.  What I'd like to do in the next 20 minutes is share with you something of my personal love of seeking wisdom.   The Love of Wisdom is, of course, an intently Biblical idea.  According to the first chapter of the Book of Proverbs,  "Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice.  At the busiest corner she cries out; at the entrance of the city gates she speaks: 'How long, O Simple Ones, will you love being simple?  How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge?"


Let me start by breaking down the word 'philosophy' itself.  It is an ancient Greek word, made up of two separate words.  Philo - which is one of the words that the Greeks used for 'love'.  The second part of the word, 'sophy' - comes from the Greek word 'sophia' which simply means 'wisdom'.  So 'philosophy' is 'the love of wisdom'.  A philosopher is someone who loves wisdom.  That's all it means.  So please don't let the word frighten you!   


Perhaps the best way to approach wisdom-thinking is to ask a few wisdom-seeking questions.  These are the kind of questions which people of every age, and every culture, have always been asking.  Questions like: how was the world created?  Is there any active, living Will behind what happens?   Or is life just a series of random events?  Is there life after death?  Perhaps one of the most important questions that lovers of wisdom have asked is 'How should we live?'  Or put more succinctly, the question we have already asked, 'Who am I?'

For me, that question acts as a focus for all the other questions.  Am I a random, chance event...just a collection of chemicals that have randomly come together to make me?  Or am I the product of a Force, a Will, a Creator who has deliberately desired that I should live now, at this moment, in this time and place?

Studying philosophy can be a bit like a detective story.  Some detectives might think that Smith was the murderer, or Jones, or Green.  Or perhaps they were all involved.  Perhaps they all planned the murder, and were all involved - but only one of them pulled the trigger.  How can you tell?  Sometimes the police can solve a crime - but sometimes they just can't get to the bottom of it.  Perhaps there is not enough evidence.  Or perhaps the evidence is in conflict with another piece of evidence.  But whether the crime can be solved or not, there was still a crime.  It's the same with questions of truth.  There may only be one right answer to a question...or there may be many...perhaps different shades of truth.  But there is a solution somewhere - if only we can find it.

It's the same with philosophy - the love of wisdom.  Some philosophical questions can have only one right answer.  Either there is a God, or there isn't.  Either there is life after death, or there isn't.  The philosopher's task, like a detective, is to sift the available evidence - and arrive at a reasonable conclusion.

One of the greatest Philosophers was called Plato...who based his writing on the thoughts of his teacher and mentor, Socrates.  Plato believed that philosophy sprang out of human beings' sense of wonder.   Over time, humans had developed the ability to think about themselves.  They became, in the words of another philosopher, "the man who knows that he knows".  That's what the term 'homo sapiens' means...and is, in fact a contraction of the original phrase...'homo sapiens sapiens'...the man who knows that he knows. 

Have you every thought about that before?  Have you ever wondered what makes us different from other thinking creatures on this planet.  Consider a dog, for example.  If you've ever owned a dog, you will know that dogs can certainly think.  My dog is very able to think about how to sneak food out of the cat's bowl!  Dogs definitely think - and they definitely feel. You should see how depressed my dog gets when she can't get anyone to give her a tidbit from the table.  And how happy she gets when a certain favourite visitor comes to call...especially one who throws a ball for her.  But the difference between me and my dog, is that I can, sort of, stand outside myself, and realise that I think.  I can think about the process of thinking.  I am a man who knows that he knows.

Once human beings had developed that ability to know that they knew things - many thought that it was astonishing that they had that ability...and astonishing that they were alive at all.  It was so astonishing to be alive that philosophical questions began to arise of their own accord.

According to a modern-day philospher, called Jostein Gaarder, its like watching a magic trick.  We cannot understand how the trick is done.  So we ask: how can the magician change a silk scarf into a white rabbit?  A lot of people experience the world with the same sense of wonder as an audience who watch a magician.  In the case of the rabbit, we know the magician has tricked us.  What we would like to know is how he did it. 

But in the world, it's somewhat different.  We know that the world is not all sleight of hand and deception, because here we are, in it; we are part of it.  Actually, says Gaarder, we are the white rabbit being pulled out of the hat - the world, and our very existence is so amazing, so improbable, that we are a kind of living magic trick.  The only difference between us and the rabbit, is that we know we are taking part in the trick.  We feel we are part of something mysterious and we would like to know how it all works.

Philosophers, throughout the millennia, have tried to help us understand how the magic trick works.  They have tried to expand our consciousness of the world around us, and of our place in the world.  They have forced us to ask the hard questions, the deep questions:  why am I here?  Who am I?  How was the world made?

The trouble is, as philosophers have complained all through time, many people just don't want to do the hard work of thinking about those sorts of things.  Many people are happy to go through life just being told what to think - and what to believe.  Many homo sapiens simply never get to the point of being sapiens sapiens!  Worse still, some people never get beyond working at the level of simple instinct...the instinct to survive, or the instinct to destroy, or to dominate, or control.

Some time ago I walked out of my house to find that a drainpipe from my garage was hanging off the wall.  I thought it was odd.  Perhaps someone had accidentally knocked it with their car while turning in the street? But then, as I walked on down the road, I discovered that the house next door had also got its drain-pipe hanging off.  And the next one.  And the next one.  It quickly became clear that some individual had systematically gone down the street destroying drainpipes. 

Why?  What possible reason could anyone have for mindlessly destroying drainpipes?  Perhaps at some instinctive level, someone had simply decided that they enjoyed the sound of drainpipes creaking and cracking before falling off.  Perhaps someone had lost control over something in their life...perhaps a partner had left them...and this small act of vandalism was a way of showing themselves that they still could control something in their life?  Who knows?  What was clear though, was that this was not the act of someone who has asked the philosophical questions.  Who am I?  What am I here for?  This was someone who was acting at a purely instinctive level of consciousness....like a dog who chases reflections endlessly around the lawn.  Pure instinct.  This was someone with no sapiens sapiens.

Sadly, as philosophers have observed across the millennia, this is the standard pattern for many human beings.  We see it, all too often, in our own streets, and among our own families and neighbours.  People get stuck into the dull routine of getting up, going to work, slumping in front of the box...and then doing it all over again.  They so rarely stop to gaze at the magnificence of a sunset, or the intricate beauty of a flower.  Rarely do many people stop to ask themselves even the most basic sapiens sapiens question - like 'what makes my relationship with my partner work?'.  Even less do most people ask themselves the question 'Why am I here?'.

Jostein Gaarder continues his analogy about the white rabbit by saying that we can see the rabbit as the Universe.  A wondrous thing, brought into existence by forces that look like magic to us.  And yet, most human beings choose to bury themselves in the fur of the rabbit...where it is warm and cosy...where nothing can frighten or challenge.  Lovers of Wisdom are those rare individuals who are prepared to climb up one of the hairs, and to peer out at the Universe.  In Gaarder's words: 'Philosophers are always trying to climb up the fine hairs of the fur in order to stare right into the magician's eyes'.

Plato - that ancient Greek lover of wisdom - used another analogy for this same dilemma.  He effectively said to his readers:  most people live as though they were dwellers in a cave.  Such people spend their whole lives standing in one position - staring at the back-wall of the cave.  Behind them is a light, and in front of the light, other people are moving wooden cut-outs of worldly objects - making shadows on the wall in front of the cave dwellers.  For the cave dwellers, this is all there is to life.  To them, a house is just a shadow of the outline of a house.  A tree is just a long shape with a fluffy bit on top.

Imagine what would happen if one day, one of the cave dwellers turned around, and saw what was happening behind them.  How excited they would be to discover that there was more to life...that, in the first instance, a house was not a shadow, but a firm outline made of wood.  Imagine then that our rebellious cave-dweller realises that the light, behind the cut-outs, is coming from further away...in fact from the entrance to the cave.  Astonished at this discovery, the cave-dweller walks towards the light - and then, in the full glare of the sun, he discovers what a house is really like, and how wonderful is a tree!

Plato suggests that this is the kind of journey that philosophers - lovers of wisdom - can make.  Philosophers are those of us who are no longer content with a world of shadows.  Philosophers want to walk towards the light...and find the source of life.

That is, ultimately, the force that drives me to a life of faith.  I like to think that I am one of those people who climb up the hairs of the white rabbit's fur...and try to look the Magician in the eye.    

The philosopher's road has been a fascinating journey for me so far.  I think that I have only just begun to scratch the surface of the big questions - the 'who am I?' sort of questions.  I believe, for example, that my life has a purpose - and that I am not a random accident of fate.  I believe that there is a Creative Force, out there, something greater than I can ever conceive...and that somehow, I am linked to the rest of the Universe, through that Creative Force.

I choose to make my journey of discovery a Christian one.  I believe that Jesus was more connected to that Creative Force than anyone else who has ever lived...and that he was uniquely in tune with the big questions.  I follow his teachings because they make sense to me, on a philosophical level.  They give me a framework around which I can fine-tune my own, personal understanding of the 'who am I?' question.  Who am I?  I am a child of God, made in the image of God.  What is my purpose?  It is to live for God, and to show God to others.  It is to stand in the door-way of the Cave, and to call back to the other cave-dwellers 'come and see what it is like in the sunlight!'.

However, as a philosopher - a lover of wisdom - I don't claim that I have got all the answers.  Do you remember Socrates...the mentor of Plato?  Socrates was executed by people who didn't like the fact that he would spend all his time going around telling people that they don't actually know anything.  He had an irritating habit of seeking out people who thought they were wise, and then like a child who keeps asking 'why', he would gradually reduce them to having to admit that they didn't know anything.  He famously said, "True wisdom comes to each of us when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us."  Or to put it more pithily: "One thing only I know, and that is that I know nothing"

In a rather longer explanation, at his trial which was recorded by Plato, Socrates related how he came to a conclusion about a supposedly wise man whom he had interviewed.  He said this,

"Well I am certainly wiser than this man. It is only too likely that neither of us has any knowledge to boast of; but he thinks that he knows something which he does not know, whereas I am quite conscious of my ignorance. At any rate it seems that I am wiser than he is to this small extent, that I do not think that I know what I do not know."


There is an inbuilt humility in that line of thinking.  The person who thinks they have understood everything is a fool.  But the man - or woman - who knows that they do not know...in such a person, God can work.  The book of proverbs reminds us, again in chapter 1, that 'the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge'.  


The Christian philosopher takes that as their starting point.  The Christian philosopher knows instinctively - by the gift of knowledge from the Spirit - that the Lord is the magician - who is pulling the Universe out of the hat.  Standing at the tip of one of the hairs of the rabbit's fur, the Christian tries to look into the face of God.   And there, the Christian philosopher begins to ask those very important questions which I am going to leave you to ponder for yourselves this morning.

But before I set you those questions, let me just conclude with a couple more of my favourite quotes from Socrates...

• What a lot of things there are a man can do without.
• Ordinary people seem not to realise that those who really apply themselves in the right way to philosophy are directly and of their own accord preparing themselves for dying and death
• An unexamined life is not worth living.
• No man undertakes a trade he has not learned, even the meanest; yet everyone thinks himself sufficiently qualified for the hardest of all trades, that of government. 
• And finally, with his tongue firmly in his cheek, Socrates said, "By all means get married. If you get a good wife you will become happy, and if you get a bad one you will become a philosopher".

Now.  Some questions.  You are of course at liberty to do whatever you like with this Quiet Day.  Walk in the garden, sit in silence in the chapel.  Leaf through books, or stare at the intricate beauty of a flower.  But let me encourage you to take two questions with you as you do these things.  Two questions which I encourage you roll around inside your head.  

Question 1:  Who am I?  No doubt, you will have a straight answer to that question.  But whatever the answer is...take it further.  Develop the thought, make the thought real, examine it in the light of Christ.  For example, if the answer to the question is: "I'm a worthless worm"...then ask yourself, whether that is actually true.  Challenge yourself to see all the good that your life has accomplished.  All the people you've loved along the way.  Ask yourself how God sees you...and whether God may have something when he says "You are my precious child".

Question 2:  Why am I here?  What is the purpose of your life? What are you here to accomplish?  Are there any changes you need to make in order to accomplish it.

I will be available all morning if you want to roll those questions - or any others - around with me.  When we come back together for the Midday Mass, we're going to think in a slightly more Lenten way about the power of forgiveness.

But for now, go, in the peace of Christ.  Ask yourself the questions, in the presence of God, and conscious always of God's unconditional love for you, his precious, precious child.

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To read the next Talk in this series of 3, please click here


To read the third and final talk in this series of 3, please click here

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Further reading:  
For those wishing to dip their toe into the world of philosophy, I heartily recommend"Sophie's World" by Jostein Gaarder