4 Trinity 2016

4 Trinity 2016

First there is shock, and then there is anger.  These are deep-seated emotions, an ancient part of human reaction, but they are as real to us today as they were to those pig farmers on the steep slopes of Gerasa, in the foothills of the Golan Heights.  We are shocked and angry at the senseless murder of Jo Cox, a politician who said it as it is, and whose heart was given over to the poor and the needy.  They were shocked and angry that in the healing of the crazy man of their region, their livelihood had been lost.

We really need to get to grips with this.  We have seen political debate descend into the worst forms of shouting and divisiveness that I have known in years, unleashed by a referendum that did not need to take place.  Now we have murder as part of that scenario, and I hope that those who have called for this referendum are deeply examining their consciences.  Legion, this poor psychotic figure, was everything that his fellow countrymen did not want, could not control.  But, when he is cured, restored, returned to them sane and reasonable, they become unreasonable, and seek to cast out the one who had cast out the demons.  Truly there is a perversity within the human spirit which is hard to fathom.

Another fact, or probability.  Legion was probably not Jewish, but a Gentile settler, in one of the many Roman new towns that had sprung up on the eastern side of Lake Galilee.  That, at least, would explain the presence of the pigs.  Oh, this gets ever more relevant as we go along.  I could make parallels with claims about EU migrants and the health service, but I will desist.  Legion is also an outcast, cut off from hearth and home by his illness, by his otherness – we could call him a refugee, if we wanted, so that throws another group of people into this morning’s mix.

And at that point we stop and look at Jesus.  What is he doing?  He is on holiday, trying to find some rest and relaxation with his disciples after the ardours of teaching and feeding the five thousand.  They think that they have found a nice secluded beach, with a good ice cream shop and some buckets and spades, when they are confronted with a screaming, desperately ill man.   What does Jesus do?  His immediate response is to remove the source of madness, to calm the wild spirit of this wretched man, to restore him to wholeness, to sit him down and get him some clothes. It is a love response, the response of the creator of the universe, who loves this man in the same way that he loves each one of us here today, and wants peace and serenity for him, as he does for us.  And that is wonderful.

And here is where it gets even harder.  We, as disciples of Christ, children of the living God, are called to do the same.  We, the redeemed, the baptised, are called to bring God’s wholeness and peace to the chaos around us.  And that includes those who are creating the chaos, the pain, the heartache, the division at the centre of the referendum debate.

Our Bishop has sent out a letter which I will read at the end of today’s service.  It will also be posted on the noticeboard and on the website. It is partly about the murder of Jo Cox, and partly about the referendum campaign and the need for us to vote.  One sentence stands out, so I will quote it now: “My prayer is that we would strive to speak well of one another, both during the campaign and after.”  That is a hard prayer for us to answer, sometimes, when some views are expressed that we find particularly insulting, petty or just downright wrong.  But we, the people of God, are called to be peacemakers and unifiers within our nation, for if we cannot do that, then nobody else will.

The radical reading of today’s Gospel is to say that the modern day Legion is the person in the referendum debate we most despise, the one we would like to cast out forcibly, and it is to that person or to that group of people that we are called to take the love of Christ, the healing love of God, the peace and unity of the Godhead.  That is massively difficult, and I have great fears for the future of our country as this process grinds on – fears for the Union, fears for the future of Europe as a peacebroker if we come out, fears for violent dissent if we stay in – and we must be at the heart of every healing process, for that is where Christ positioned himself.

However, a cheering story to finish.

The other day, I was in Kings Street Hammersmith, walking along behind some young roofers, name of their company emblazoned on their tee shirts, a swagger in their step.  It was the end of the working day, they needed food, and one shouted, “Oi Steve, we gonna eat Macdonalds?”  To which Steve replied, “Nah mate, we’re gonna have sushi”.  If such attitudinal and cultural shifts can happen in white, working class twentysomethings in West London, then I think we will be all right.

Pastoral Letter – EU Referendum

My brothers and sisters in Christ

On Thursday 16th June a Member of Parliament was killed on the streets of her constituency in West Yorkshire.  Not only is this a tragedy for Jo Cox’s young family but it has united people of good will throughout the nation in sorrow.  I commend Jo Cox, her family, friends and constituents to your prayers as well as all who serve in public office and positions of trust and responsibility in our nation.

On Thursday 23rd June, those registered to vote in the referendum on our membership of the European Union will have the opportunity to take part in an historic decision.  To do so is a civic duty, an act of commitment to the work of democracy as it has developed over many generations in this country.  The right to vote has been hard won and not everyone in the world today has this right.

As Christians we are called to be Christ-centred, which means being outward focussed.  This means taking our civic responsibilities seriously and playing our part in building community.  It means we should exercise our duty to vote. I would not presume to dictate how you should vote, but I would ask you to consider: how do we want to forge our identity and live with each other?  What sort of place should our nation be and how do we wish to foster interdependency and work together for peace and justice between nations?

Lastly, I would plead for one other thing: mutual respect.  There are reasonable arguments and people of good will on both sides in this referendum.   Either view can be held in good conscience.  But the tone of the debate has often failed to reflect this.   Whichever way the issue is decided, we must seek unity to follow together the path that the majority chooses.  My prayer is that we would strive to speak well of one another, both during the campaign and after.  Whatever happens, we will continue to tell the story of our faith in Christ Jesus in whom we are all one, all children of God.

Whichever decision you prayerfully reach, to leave or to remain, I do urge you to go out and vote.

+Christopher

Bishop of Southwark

4 Trinity 2016

2 Trinity 2016

There is a programme on Radio 4 called “Heresy”, in which people pronounce potentially heretical views on such subjects as whether Jerry Hall & Rupert Murdoch married for love and other major news items.  I know it is supposed to be comedy, to fill that half hour between the incessant news programmes of tea time before the Archers, but somehow all its attempts to be “heretical” are fairly lightweight, and are never going to stir the Spanish Inquisition from its slumbers.

That having been said, heresy is, of course, a constant worry of the Church, and some parts of it still have guardian committees who oversee statements regarding the faith, to check them for orthodoxy and the possibility of someone actually saying something interesting.  This goes on in more subtle ways, and this morning’s readings are an example of just this.  So, look again at the readings from 1 Kings – Elijah raises the widow’s son – Galatians – Paul in full self-justification mode – and Luke – Jesus raises a widow’s son – and spot the heresy that the compilers of the lectionary are trying to guard us against.

Now there are two basic Christian heresies, and both relate to Jesus.  One says that he was God, but not fully human, and the other states that he was totally human, but not divine.  From the look of today’s Gospel, Jesus appears to be fully human, with the compassionate reaction and willingness to intervene, but also fully divine, as he brings the man back to life.  So where’s the problem?  There isn’t one, but if we compare the actions of Elijah in raising the young boy, and Jesus raising the man, the difference is in the process.  Elijah has to call on God to raise the child: Jesus simply speaks the word, and the man lives.

This story is in our Gospels for a particular purpose: to demonstrate that Jesus is far superior to Elijah and all of the other Old Testament prophets.  They had access to God, they could talk to him and receive instruction directly from him, but ultimately they were simply human beings that God could and did use for extraordinary things.  Jesus, by contrast, has the word of life within him, the word of creation, God’s power and that will always set him apart.

So, having learnt that lesson, and bulwarked ourselves against that particular heresy, what have we got to take with us through this coming week?  I think it has something to do with prayer.  Prayer of an Elijah, prayer of Christ, prayer of the people of God.

What moves Elijah to seek the child’s restoration?  The realisation that he is his mother’s only hope in the world, and that without him, she is lost.  Likewise Jesus, faced with the same hopelessness, intervenes decisively to transform emptiness into wholeness.

This, for us, is achieved through practical prayer – prayer that does not simply say, “I will pray for you” but actually goes round and seeks to transform a situation.  Thus, if someone is ill, spending time with them answers our prayers.  If someone is hungry, taking them food answers our prayers.  If someone is isolated, then accompaniment answers the prayer.  So far, so straightforward.

But what about other, bigger things?  How do we offer practical prayer for peace in Syria?  We cannot go there and try to broker peace – how can we properly intercede for that nation?  How do we pray about the referendum?  I am fairly sure that there will be faithful people of God, people of prayer, who will be on both sides of the argument – does prayer have anything to do with it at all?

Archbishop Desmond Tutu was a strong advocate of intercessory prayer for situations that appear hopeless.  He once talked of the ring of prayer for him and for the end of apartheid that went round the world every day.  He spoke of an American nun who got up at 3am every day to pray for him – and with a wide grin he laughed, “What chance have the apartheid authorities?!”  Faithful, committed prayer for intractable situations does work – but it is prayer for the long term, not just for today.

As for prayer surrounding the referendum, what there?  Do we pray for a specific outcome, or in more general terms?  Can we pray for honesty and clear thinking?  Can we pray for a proper engagement with the subject, rather than simplistic, reach-me-down arguments?  Can we pray for a desire to be part of the process, to feel that voices are heard, regardless of the outcome?  Of course we can, and we must, and the practical prayer is one which makes sure that people will get out and use their democratic right, that they will have a series debate about the issues, that this is treated as a serious, social, life-affecting issue in which God is involved.  We have been placed in a democracy, where our voice can be heard and should be heard – God wants us to use it.

The practical prayers of Elijah & Jesus transformed hopeless situations, restored life and recreated community.  May our practical prayers this week be equally restorative, equally re-creative, and may the power of the Holy Spirit flow through our prayers to transform our lives, our community’s life and the life of the worl

 

4 Trinity 2016

Sunday after the Ascension 2016

Two blokes, battered and bruised, are singing their hearts out in the inner sanctum of a jail.  Arrested, falsely accused, flogged and in the stocks, they spend their evening singing the praises of God, not mouldering in self-pity.

A man in lonely exile on a craggy rock off the coast of Turkey hears the voice of Christ, calling him to share in the water of life and the worship of heaven.

A man in an upper room, with a group of friends, after a meal, prays for love-based unity amongst his followers.

This is the stuff of the Sunday after the Ascension, a day of waiting, of expectation, of promise.  Waiting for the Spirit, expecting God to act, looking for the promised comforter and permanent presence of Almighty God, God as close to them as Jesus ever was.  We know that the Holy Spirit is given – but we will wait until next Sunday to celebrate that.  We know that visions of Heaven were written to a persecuted Church in Asia Minor, to give them encouragement and hope as their persecutors circled.  Who knows whether Jesus actually prayed this prayer – it would take some writing down at the time – but if he didn’t, or hadn’t prayed something like it during his time here on earth, then we would be much the poorer for it.

What keeps Paul & Silas singing?  The love of God.  What keeps the pressurized Church around Ephesus holding on to their faith in the risen Christ, despite the threat of torture and death?  The love of God.  What leads Jesus to pray as he does, after the Passover meal and before the desolation of Gethsemane?  The love of God.

All is there, all is encompassed in that one phrase.  The love of God in human hearts, the love of God expressed in eternity, the love of God worked out eternally between the Father and the Son.

But what sort of love is this?  It is sacrificial, it is self-giving, it is taking on the role of a slave for the benefit of the beloved.  Moments before starting this prayer, Jesus has washed his disciples’ feet, and commanded them to do the same, to love each other as he had loved them.  The eternal love of the Father for the Son is interrupted in the Son’s obedience to the Father in taking human form and living amongst God’s creation as one of the created.  The eternal love of the Son for the Father is expressed in healing and miracle, teaching and confrontation, prayer and self sacrifice on the cross.  The eternal love of the Father for the Son is expressed in resurrection, conquering death, laying waste the scourge of fear, removing the scandal of corruption, and the eternal love of the Father for the Son and the Son for the Father is expressed in a desire for unity and the gift of the Holy Spirit, the fullness of God in all his children.

So what do we do with this?

We welcome, we baptise, we teach our children, we share together in bread and wine, we live out the life of Christ in practical ways, endeavouring to feed the hungry, house the homeless, minister to the sick, comfort the dying.  We engage with the world, especially this coming Christian Aid Week, welcoming everyone because they complete us in our union with God.

We baptise, because Christ commanded us to just before his ascension, and because it is a sign of our unity – we are all one in Christ, as we are all baptised into him.  How can we not be united if we have all been baptised into him?  It must be said that the Church has managed to ruin this unity very well for very many years, but at heart, our baptism is our unity and needs to be acknowledged.  When we baptise this child today, she joins the family of God – one family, not a divided family, but one family unit, united in Christ, united in its loving heavenly Father.  This child’s baptism is as valid as ours, wherever we were baptised, as valid as her sister’s – who was baptised in Brussels, as valid as any baptism carried out anywhere in the world today.  We are the ones who break the unity, we are the ones who have created the schisms, the differences, the power plays and the vested interests.  God does not see any of them: rather, he waits patiently for us to come round to his point of view, to acknowledge his unity, his uniting love, for all time and for all people.

And everything we talked about last week, about welcome, warmth, the right fit, is relevant to our unity.  Warmth of God’s love, the genuine welcome of a united body, feeling part of the whole – that is the lived and experienced expression of our unity in Christ – into which we welcome the baptised, the stranger, the newcomer, the enquirer, the returner, the lost.

And the purpose of all this?  That God will be worshipped, that lives will be changed into the way God wants them to be, that the Church will be an effective witness and signpost to Christ.  That is the purpose of our unity, that is where our unity takes us, and in living it out, it all makes sense.

It was noteworthy that Sadiq Khan made his public declarations as the new Mayor of London at Southwark Cathedral, in the presence of both Anglican & Roman Catholic bishops of Southwark, an Imam, a rabbi and many other faith representatives.  That unity of purpose, that unity for the city of London, is an expression of the unity of God, that can be lived out in our common life too.

As we wait for Pentecost to arrive, let us love as Christ loved us, let us be united, as Christ is united with the Father, and may we give ourselves in acts of service and support, so that the world may believe.