Showing posts with label Church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Church. Show all posts

Sunday, 16 January 2022

The Wedding Feast: Life, joy, belonging

 

A sermon for the Second Sunday after Epiphany: John 2.1-11

 

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What would the life of the Church look like if we were hosting the wedding feast at Cana of Galilee?

 

It may sound like an odd question, but I think it is one that holds a huge amount of potential when we consider our life and mission at this moment in time.

 

The pandemic has really shaken things down. We have to be honest. For many the pandemic made them reassess what was important.

 

I rejoice, and I hope you do too, that we are here today because we have found that our faith, and sense of belonging to Christ in this place, has sustained us and brought us through.

 

I rejoice, and I hope that you do too, that this morning, as has been the case through the pandemic, people have been drawn to Christ for the first time through what this church offers in worship, prayer and pastoral care. There is new growth in this church!

 

I lament, as I imagine you do to, that some people have fallen away. Perhaps they are out of the habit of coming to church or sadly, perhaps, they didn’t find that the nourishment, hope and life of the Gospel sustained them. It is also true that some have found new places where they connect with God, and we wish them well and bless them in that.

 

After that shaking down, the krisis time, what does today’s gospel give us?

 

It seems to me that some words from our Church Vision Day in June 2019 are powerful today as they were then, before the pandemic, when we said together that we wanted this church to be known as church that is ‘welcoming and open, where people find life and joy and feel they belong’.

 

That sounds a little like the answer to my opening question, ‘what would the life of the Church look like if we were hosting the wedding feast at Cana of Galilee?’ If we were a ‘wedding feast church’ we would be a church that is ‘welcoming and open, where people find life and joy and feel they belong’.

 

Let’s explore that thought through the lens of today’s gospel.

 

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Weddings in the days of Jesus were whole community affairs. They were not just for select friends or close family like now; the whole locality would turn out and be welcomed and feel they belong at the feast.

 

Modern churches have become a bit like modern weddings: the select few are expected; the select few are welcomed. Being a wedding feast church means that we throw open our doors, not just physically but in who we are and how we are, in our DNA, in our bones, in our culture.  

 

A wedding feast church says that what happens here is for everyone and it’s about finding life and joy. It’s where you belong. ‘Fling wide the gates’ as a psalm puts it, to let in Christ, the King of Glory, and those who come seeking him (Psalm 24). We invite, expect and welcome the unexpected guest!

 

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At the wedding feast in Cana they famously ran out of wine and it was the Mother of the Lord, Mary, who noticed this.

 

To be a wedding feast church means that we have to acknowledge when the wine of our own effort and imagination has run out.  That’s when we learn to be the church properly. It’s when we recall that our sure foundation is Christ.

 

At Cana the servants panicked when they realised the wine had run out. We are the servants on whose watch this pandemic has happened, but it is no time to panic or beat ourselves up about it. After all, the wine in Cana ran out because people were drinking it; and that’s good!

 

This church has served good wine, to be sure, for more than a thousand years, wine that is replenished in each new season.

 

A wedding feast church knows that new wine needs serving. A wedding feast church asks Blessed Mary to help us notice the texture and detail of the life of our church. Is the wine flowing? Is the wine souring? Is the wine running out?

 

Mary is the Mother of the Church, and through her prayers, she longs that her children are renewed, encouraged and drink deeply of the wells of salvation.

 

So she surely says to us today - as she said to the servants in Cana – present all this to Jesus and do whatever he tells you.

 

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Now is the time to turn for us to Christ and to be renewed in the life and mission of the church. The good wine is to be served as Christ’s hour comes. A wedding feast church is ready to drink of that wine, for it brings life; it brings joy.

 

The life is the depth of living that the Gospel beings. ‘I came that you may have life and have it abundantly’ says Jesus (John 10.10). St Paul echoes this, ‘take hold of the life that really is life (2 Timothy NN).

 

The joy is the experience of taking hold of life and finding it in every day of our lives. Many things weigh us down in life, but joy awakens us to the fulness of life through our daily existence and the challenges and threats to happiness.

 

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This coming week the priests and licensed lay workers of this church are going to reflect on the aspiration to be a church that is ‘welcoming and open, where people find life and joy and feel they belong’.

 

What will that look like for me and for my colleagues? What will that look like for the members of the church council, the PCC? What will that look like for you?

 

A wedding feast church is a church that is welcoming and open, where people find life and joy and feel they belong.

 

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A wedding feast church has a banquet at its heart: what the Book of Revelation calls the ‘marriage feast of the Lamb’. The marriage feast of the Lamb of God is the fulfilment of all things in heaven, of which we have a foretaste in the Eucharist.

 

In marriage bride and groom meet to become one flesh; in Christ divinity and humanity meet and become one in his flesh.

 

As wine is prepared at the Eucharist water is added and a prayer spoken by the priest which says, ‘by the mystery of this water and this wine may we share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity’. That is an intimate union.

 

At the wedding feast of the Lamb we become one with Christ, in our bodies, minds and spirits. In this mystical way we are welcoming into his open love and we find life and joy and the deepest place of belonging we can find, because we are at home with the Lover of our Souls.

 

Monday, 19 July 2021

Sent to show the love of Christ: A Sermon

 

Preached as a sermon at Croydon Minster, Sunday 18 July 2021. Gospel reading mark 6.30-34, 53-end.

 

 

‘The apostles returned from their mission. They gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught’

 

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In the verses before the passage in St Mark’s gospel that we have just heard, the disciples have been sent out by Jesus to begin to collaborate in the work he was already doing.

 

He sent them out: but he sent them with practically nothing to live on – no bread, no bag, no money in their belts. Oh, but they were allowed a staff, and some sandals.

 

They were learning utter dependence on him. They were learning that to be a disciple – literally, one who learns by following – one must also be an apostle - literally, one who is sent.

 

What Jesus did give them was authority. Authority to speak and act in his name, to be bearers of life that would triumph over death and distress.

 

Earlier in this chapter we heard that ‘they went out and proclaimed that all should repent. They cast out demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them’. (Mark 6.13)

 

So when we heard ‘they gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught’ .That’s what they had returned to tell him.  

 

The ones who were sent – apostles – came to report back, and they reverted to being disciples – learners. And Jesus taught both by teaching and instructing, but also by sending. And when they returned they recounted what they had learnt and reflected on it. And they came to rest.

 

How often in life do we find that we learn more when we have some basic instructions and then get out there and put it into practice. All the better when we know the Master is ready to scoop us up, and help us learn better next time.

 

It’s often said that learning to drive takes place after you’ve passed your test. And learning to swim does not happen on the poolside but in the water.

 

So often the learning is in the doing, and, importantly, in the reflecting on what we have done. That’s why Jesus took them to a solitary place, to pray, ponder, reflect.

 

That’s how Jesus teaches us now through his church. Christians are active, praying learners; always disciples always apostles, by virtue of being baptised.

 

As the baptised Jesus invites us to participate in his mission, which is the Father’s mission, the Missio Dei as it’s known.

 

In the Eucharist we come first to adore God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We are taught through the scriptures, through preaching; we rest in Christ in prayer; we are fed at the table he spreads before us, and we are sent.

 

All this is being wrapped up in the life of Christ, and it is the Church’s mission.

 

The word ‘mission’ means ‘to be sent’. So the mission of the church is lived out in every disciple , and every disciple is sent out as an apostle.

 

That’s why we will say in the Creed, I believe in one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church’. And we acknowledge that the Church is inspired, led and guided by the Holy Spirit.

 

‘Go in the peace of Christ’: that ends each Eucharist where, as disciples, learners and growers, we have been intimately with Jesus Christ and now are sent as apostles, bearers of Christ’s message of life in all its abundance.

 

No Christian disciple is exempt from being an apostle, one who is sent. Hence, Go in peace.

 

Whether you’ve been a Christian for 1 year or 80 years you are sent to be Christ to the world, whether that’s at home, at school, at work, in business or even on Zoom.

 

You learn and grow as a Christian by being a Christian.

 

So make your first questions at the beginning of each day, as a disciple and apostle, these:

 

How may I show the love of Christ today?

How may I honour Christ in all I think and speak and do today?

 

However trivial, worthless, boring, exasperating or frustrating you may see your life or tasks this week, you can still ask those questions: you can be Christ to the world.

 

How may I show the love of Christ today?

How may I honour Christ in all I think and speak and do today?

 

Then cherish what you find.

 

 

Monday, 7 June 2021

Life in the Household

 Preached as sermon at Croydon Minster 6th June 2021. Readings: Genesis 3.8-15; Mark 3.20-end.

‘Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’

 

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Our gospel reading is a tale of two households; two very different households!

 

One is the household headed up by the adversary of God, the enemy of our human nature, Satan, a.k.a. the One Who Scatters (‘o diabolos). This is a household at enmity, marked by division and fracture. It’s a dystopian household where egos reign and clash, where no attempt is made to relate graciously to one another. It's typically human, and Genesis identifies it as human behaviour from the beginning, embedded in who we are.

 

The other household, by contrast, is empowered by the Holy Spirit. In this household people seeking Christ, come together and relate to one another, in deepening and flourishing relationships. The words of a psalm come to mind: ‘how very good and pleasant it is when brothers and sisters dwell together in unity’ (Psalm 133.1).

 

This is the work of the Holy Spirit: God’s capacity to weave together disparate people; a bit like us now.

 

In fact, just like us now. This passage is pointing to the indispensability of the Church in the unfolding of the Gospel and the deliverance of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God is not an ‘out there’ remote dream, but God’s reality blossoming through the Church, the web of relationships around Jesus Christ, in heaven and earth.

 

Life lived in this household of Christ, has three key implications for us: ecclesial, political and personal.

 

Ecclesial. That means things to do with the Church. The Church is the household of God where we are schooled and our habits shaped in ways that deeply echo the Kingdom of God: here we relinquish egotism, we give up self to become truly ourselves, in Christ.

 

As Jesus died on the cross this re-fashioning of relationships began. Jesus said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ And to his beloved disciple he said, ‘Here is your mother’. ‘And from that hour’, we read, ‘the disciple took her into his own home’ (John 19.26,27) It shows Jesus’ words in action: ‘Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.’

 

Discipleship is the commitment to, and way of patiently growing within the household of Christ, marked by the sign of the cross.

 

Audaciously, we claim in baptism that our relationships in the Church go even deeper than race or heritage, biology or shared DNA: we are brothers and sisters in Christ as those who seek the will of God. That’s a big claim at a time when, in the culture, identity and affiliation is framed in terms that divide rather than reconcile.

 

By placing ourselves here this morning at the Eucharist we come to shape our lives, preferences and habits towards Christ, towards life in the Spirit, in the many mansions of the Father’s house.

 

We are here because we are inhabitants of the household of faith, hope and love; the household of Christ; the household of the Church!

 

There is a political dimension to being part of the household of Christ. Politics is the ordering of the polis, the polis is the shared space of a community’s life, what we call ‘society’ or ‘the culture’. As Christians we need to be confident that we should engage in the life of society and the culture, influence and shape them after the Kingdom of God.

 

If the values of the household of the Church mean anything, they mean that we have something to say to the big questions of our day: how we order our lives together as human beings; what the household of our nation, or global society, could look like. That means speaking about taxes, vaccine availability, the environment and such like. All the more as the G7 meets this week.

 

St Augustine of Hippo, the great North African bishop of the fourth century, didn’t shy away from how we order society to reflect the Kingdom of God. He wrestles with this theme in his great work De civitate Dei, City of God, where he contrasts the city of those who do the will of God and those who refuse it: totally today’s gospel theme.

 

We pursue a just and equitable society, where there is no want, where everyone can be free and honoured, where the burdens of the weak are supported by the strong. That’s not because we’re of the left or of the right, but because it’s the vision found in the gospels and in the Book of Revelation where the earthly city is swept up into heaven gathered around the throne of the Lamb.

 

That is why the Church engages wholeheartedly in politics, it’s about shaping our local, national and global household, so that all may be brothers and sisters of one another.

 

To stay locked in, or withdraw, makes us just quite worthy, probably good and pious individuals. We can and should shape society. And we can do much better than sniping at politicians or blaming those who think differently from us - I am thinking of the Bishop of St David’s here – for politicians have rolled up their sleeves to shape society. Do pray for all Christian politicians around the world.

 

This may all sound big and highfaluting. The vision of Christ’s household is even more than global; it’s cosmic. But it is also deeply personal. Not private. Personal.

 

Ultimately we have to ask, how do I order the household of my own soul, mind and body? Is it a place where the Holy Spirt leads and guides; is it divided amongst itself; does it reflect the Kingdom’s priorities? Is the household of my soul filled with faith, hope and love?

 

Brothers and sisters! That is a big task. As we gather at the altar in our household let us rejoice in one another, and commit ourselves to live out the coming Kingdom of God.

 

Thursday, 17 September 2020

Slavery, race and the Christian Church: A Reflection

 

SLAVERY, RACE AND THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH

 

The recent killing of George Floyd and the resurgence of the Black Lives Matter movement in the United States, and across the world, has rightly, and powerfully, shone a fresh light on racism in the United Kingdom today and the way in which this country was not simply complicit in the Atlantic slave trade, but was at the heart of it.

 

In the immediate aftermath of George Floyd’s death there was a legitimate fury that led to certain statues and symbols being toppled or questioned: the statue of Edward Colston in Bristol being one, and the ongoing campaign to remove the statue of Cecil Rhodes from Oriel College in Oxford another. We see the power of symbols and iconography and how they inform and shape our understanding of history.

 

In the light of this the Archdeacons of the Diocese of Southwark have written to the incumbents, churchwardens and Parochial Church Councils of the Diocese asking us to research any connections between our churches and the Atlantic slave trade.

 

This article sets out the connections that Croydon Minster, as Croydon Parish Church, has had with slavery and seeks to set this history in the context of how we might act today.

 

History and Remembering

 

History is about collective memory; and how we remember matters. Remembering is not just a recollection of a past event it is a piecing together of what has gone before; it is a re-membering: putting the pieces, the members, back together. The opposite of ‘re-member’ is not ‘forget’, but is ‘dis-member’. Black Lives Matter is asking us to re-member, not dis-member the past. That means we must tell, to the full, the stories of the past in a way that affect real lives in the present and shape the future.

 

This should be obvious to Christians because at the heart of the Christian faith is an act of remembering. The Eucharist draws us into the past – the sacrificial death of Jesus Christ on the cross - to make sense of the present – as disciples who walk in the way of the cross - and anticipate the future – as a foretaste of the heavenly banquet of the Lamb of God. The word anamnesis is the Greek word used in the Gospels when Jesus says ‘do this in remembrance (anamnesis) of me’. Anamnesis translates as ‘remembrance’ or ‘make present’. In that sense the past recollection is made present and active and therefore transformative. Perhaps unsurprisingly, in the context of complicity in slavery, it is amnesia and not anamnesis that is prevalent in the United Kingdom today.

 

The statues of the likes of Edward Colston and Cecil Rhodes tells us that British history is not benign and cannot be told nostalgically. Rather, British history has long festering and seeping wounds that infect how we live life today; the poison of those wounds comes out in ‘passive’ and ‘active’ racism. People of black, Asian and minority ethnic heritage[1] are on the receiving end of the dis-memberment of British history and the story of who we are today when the full story is not told.

 

Discovering ‘Our’ Story

 

It would seem that slavery has been a feature of human societies for millennia. The Israelites were slaves in Egypt and in the market place in Rome Pope Gregory the Great saw Angles, English heritage slaves, for sale.[2]

 

It is also true that the New Testament refers to slavery apparently uncritically. We cannot gloss over that. It is part of our story. Both Jesus and St Paul use the imagery of slavery and slave owners, sometimes enjoining mercy on the part of slave owners, but also saying slave should be obedient. St Paul uses the word doulos which can translate ‘slave’ or ‘servant’ to speak of the Christian being ‘a doulos of Christ.

 

This imagery became toxic as slave owners and traders, who ‘professed and called themselves Christians’ felt able to appeal to what they saw as a Biblical mandate for their practices.

 

Ironically it was from the same Judaeo-Christian source that the abolitionists, amongst them evangelical Christians such as William Wilberforce, made the case against slavery. Scripture also speaks of the freeing of slaves, both Israelite slaves from Egypt and release of captives in a Year of Jubilee.

 

What is clear is that by the 18th century British society was utterly entwinned in the Atlantic slave trade and the commerce which was reliant on enslaved people from Africa.

 

What does that have to do with Croydon Minster today? Global and national stories must be told and so must the local. That is why the Archdeacons of the Diocese of Southwark wrote to us to research any connections between our churches and the Atlantic slave trade. These connections may be expressed by monuments in the building, the naming of an institution associated with the church or benefactions over the centuries. The Archdeacons did not ask us to tear down any such connection, but to begin to account for them and how we interpret them today.

 

Some research undertaken by David Morgan has shown that there are such connections. This is not surprising given the prominence in the locality of Croydon Parish Church. The fire of 1867 destroyed memorials which were to families associated with slavery, but we know that memorials existed.

 

The Bourdieu family, who lived locally at Coombe House, erected a memorial to Phillippa Bourdieu. It was a Grecian style monument near the rood screen of the church. They owned the Hoghole Estate in Jamaica in the parish of St Thomas in the Vale.

 

The last pre-revolutionary Governor of Massachusetts, Thomas Hutchinson, has a plaque in the Lady Chapel. He would certainly have known of slavery and been complicit in it, although we do not know, without further research, if he profited from the trade.

 

We also find that the associations with slavery extended right into English society, including the Church of England. The Reverend East Apthorp, who was Vicar of Croydon in 1770s arrived from America having been ejected from Boston by the independence movement. In England Apthorp initially stayed at Addington Palace. The Palace was substantially rebuilt by Barlow Trescothick, a slave owner, who was married to Apthorp’s sister.

 

Apthorp’s father Charles was the Paymaster General of the North American Colonies, and we can be certain that he made money out of slavery.   Charles Apthorp married Grizzelda Eastwicke whose family owned a plantation in Jamaica. We also know that East had brothers who made money from slavery. Indeed in the Baptism Register for Croydon Parish Church in the 1780s there is an entry for the baptism of an ‘adult negro servant’ of the Apthorp family.[3] This man was not a member of the Vicar’s household but someone who has come over with one of Apthorp's brothers. We can only speculate if he was a freed slave.

 

Those are the facts: so where does that take us, as a church community today?

 

Sin and the Image of God

 

It must be stated, absolutely and categorically, that slavery was, and is, always wicked and wrong; racism was, and is, always wicked and wrong. In Christian terms we would add that slavery was, and is, sinful; racism is sinful.

 

Slavery and racism, which are intimately related, are sinful because the enslavement of another human being diminishes their dignity which we believe is God given to all people. Slavery is the ultimate and enduring deprivation of liberty which makes human beings a commodity to be sold and bought. Racism is wrong because it reduces people to a category, a subject, a ‘thing’ and not a person to be known, cherished and valued.

 

A Christian account of being human, drawing on the Hebrew Scriptures (most vividly the liberation of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land), sees human identity as free and subject only to God and not another person.

 

We draw our understanding of human dignity from the Book of Genesis which speaks of human beings made in the image and likeness of God and into whom God breathes his living giving spirit (Genesis 2.7).

 

Furthermore as Christians we see that divine image marred through human sinfulness, of which more below, and because ‘all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God’ (Romans 3.23): all people – irrespective of race - are in need of restoration into the image of God. In Jesus Christ we see the fullness of human potential as one who lives a sinless life because he remains a bearer of the image of God.

 

As the first letter of John teaches, ‘Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen’ (1 John 4.20). He also states this very clearly and dramatically saying, ‘All who hate a brother or sister are murderers, and you know that murderers do not have eternal life abiding in them.’ (1 John 3.15). The enslavement of a human being is a catastrophic failure of love, and precludes a true love of God.

 

Some have called slavery the ‘original sin’ of modern western society. Original Sin does indeed tell us that we are bound up and implicated in patterns of behaviour that precede our individual existence but into which we are bound by our very membership of the human race. In Christian thought the sin of Adam speaks of the predicament we find ourselves in. Original Sin could be called ‘inherited sin’ because it is something received even if not merited, but something we all too readily make our own.

 

The doctrine of Original Sin has had a bad press in modern times. It is assumed to be a deeply pessimistic account of the human condition, implying individual wickedness from birth. Rather, it is better seen as a generous account of humanity because it acknowledges that we are all caught up in inherited patterns of human behaviour and consequences that are not of our own doing, but that we are formed by, precisely because we are social creatures and part of humanity. Attitudes to race, stemming from slavery are an illustration of how original sin works.

 

Being in Christ: A New Creation

 

For Christians life ‘in Christ’ (Greek en Christou) is the way to restore life lived in the image of God and to break the crippling inheritance of sin. St Paul teaches that the capacity for renewal is in Christ, the Second Adam: the First Adam, the first anthropos - human being - led humanity to reject the ways of God, so the Second Adam makes possible the reversal of that sinfulness through a radical obedience to God, even to death. It is this way of life that leads us ‘from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land’ (from the Church of England Baptism Service Common Worship: Christian Initiation p. 87).

 

Baptism which initiates us into the Body of Christ acknowledges both our uniqueness, who we are – ‘God has called you by name’ – and that we find our identity within a wider mystical society, the Communion of Saints. So in Baptism our deep identity is not eradicated but cast in a new light, for we also become members of a ‘new race’ as Christians. As St Paul writes:

 

As many of you as were baptised into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3.28)

 

St Paul connects this new identity in Christ to the coming New Creation which is cosmic and personal: ‘So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!’ (2 Corinthians 5.17). The ‘new race’ of being a Christian must never be into a notion of ‘whiteness’ or middle-classness or any other secular cultural construct, but rather into the ‘glorious liberty of the children of God’ (Romans 8.21)

 

The Christian narrative is one in which we are led to a vision of the New Creation in Christ. The vision of the New Testament is one of a new race of those redeemed in Christ. Identity is not defined racially or tribally. The Revelation to John describes a vision of heaven in which the twelve tribes of Israel are present, as is to be expected, but the seer continues looking and then writes:

 

After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white with a palm branch in their hands. (Revelation 7.9)

 

Slavery, Racism and the Church Today

 

As I stand at the altar of Croydon Minster and see the faithful gathered for the Eucharist I get a glimpse of John’s vision: I see people of many nations and heritage gathered around the Altar of the Lamb, and it warms my heart.

 

I, and I am sure the vast majority at the Minster, find it hard to believe that this has not always been recognised by ‘those who profess and call themselves Christians’. Yet we know that as recently of the arrival of Caribbean migrants on SS Windrush in the 1950s that the Church of England was frosty at best and hostile at worst in its reception of Black Anglicans from the Caribbean.

 

Some will say that we cannot judge people of another age by our standards. In some ways that is true; but judgement for all of us will be against the enduring message of the Gospels.

 

I behold the congregation of the Minster - and look at myself - there are people who harbour ill-will, bad thoughts, a ‘past’, envies, quarrelling and strife. There may even be people who have a racist side to them.

And so comes the call of our patron saint, St John the Baptist, that we should repent and amend our lives.

 

The Church is made up of people who get things wrong. All of us gather as broken and in need of perfecting, conversion and repentance. The conversion of society begins with the conversion of the human heart.

 

This raises big questions about how we handle apology, sorrow, regret, remorse and historic complicity. At this time penitence is appropriate. Acts of penance – personal and corporate - are not virtue signalling. They are times when one acknowledges one’s own sinful actions in the past and resolves to amend one’s life, by God’s grace. The Christian Gospel however declares that through Jesus Christ we can break the ‘habits of sin that lead to spiritual death’.

 

It also lays down the challenges for how the church: what does our church look like in how different faces are seen, voices heard and contributions valued. If we really are the Body of Christ, what is our body language as ‘people of from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb’?

 

© Andrew Bishop, 2020

 



[1] BAME is an term that is not without its detractors as being too all encompassing. The recent BBC website article ‘Don’t call me BAME’ illustrates this point (https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/uk-53205008/race-and-identity-don-t-call-me-bame accessed 30th June 2020). Someone who is Black may be or African or Caribbean heritage and Asia is a big place and culturally diverse. The lesson is that we should deal with people of any race or heritage as individuals and not groups, whilst acknowledging there is a commonality, though not uniformity, of experience amongst many.

[2]  Gregory was reputed to have said, on seeing the English slaves ‘Non Angli sed angeli’ – ‘not Angles, but angels’, which is an interesting comment in the light of the colour of those slaves. That should not allow for a ‘superiority narrative’ in relation to the race and heritage of slaves.

[3] That the person baptised was an adult was worthy of note as it was very unusual then (the Book of Common Prayer has a rite for ‘Public Baptism of such as are of Riper Years’; that the Register notes the man was ‘a negro’ is utterly irrelevant to Baptism.

Monday, 10 June 2019

Terrifying. Exciting. Bewildering: A Pentecost Sermon

Preached as a sermon at the Parish Eucharist for Pentecost, Sunday 9th June, 2019 at Croydon Minster. Saturday 15th June is the Minster's Vision Day

Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful people, and kindle in us the fire of God’s love.

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How terrifying. How exciting. How bewildering.

The first Day of Pentecost was all those things and more.

The disciples and crowds were terrified that day, they were excited and they were bewildered.

The rush of a violent wind; tongues of fire licking amongst them and resting on them: something remarkable and dramatic was going on here.

The tongues of fire gave way to the different tongues, tongues of speech, languages from near and far, incomprehensibly comprehensible, all speaking of ‘God’s deeds of power’ (Acts 2.11).

The response of the crowds, both the locals and devout pilgrims to Jerusalem, was one of amazement, perplexity and scepticism.

It fell to Peter, the rock on which Christ builds his church (Matthew 16.18), to interpret what is going on.

This isn’t the ecstatic outburst of a drunken rabble, he says, this is the Holy Spirit testifying to the majesty of God, to God’s mighty deeds and to the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Peter’s interpretation roots what is happening in what has gone before, so he quotes the prophet Joel:

In the last days, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams’ (Acts 2.17)

Peter looks back in order to look forward.

Dreams and visions of young and old. Sounds familiar? Yes, on Saturday we have the chance to share our dreams and vision for what we discern for this Church in the coming years, what its particular gifts have been, what they are today and what they might be in the future.

The ‘dreams and visions’ that Peter quotes in Acts are not utopian fantasies; they are rooted in the purposes of God.

Likewise the inspirational Jean Vanier who died recently spoke powerfully about vision and planning which could apply to us. He writes:

Too much detailed intellectual planning … can, in fact, stifle the Spirit, just as a desire to remain open to anything and  everything and a refusal to clarify goals, can also prevent growth… God gives us hearts so that we may be inspired by his Love and his Spirit, but he also gives us minds, so that we may understand, clarify, discern and read what he is saying and giving in and through life.[1]

On that Day of Pentecost the crowds asked ‘what does this mean?’ We ask: ‘what does this means for us today?’

The account of the Day of Pentecost remains at the same time terrifying, exciting and bewildering.

And in the terror, excitement and bewilderment of the Spirit is life: abundant life. As Jesus says in St John’s gospel, ‘It is the spirit that gives life…The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life’ (John 6.63).

At the speaking of God’s word the Holy Spirit moved over the waters at the beginning of creation bringing light and life; the Holy Spirit who was breathed into Adam’s nostrils brings life to humanity; the Holy Spirit who overshadowed Mary that she might become the Mother of the God incarnate, Jesus Christ, the New Adam.

It was the Holy Spirit who descended upon Jesus, not in violent winds or in fire, but in the gentle form of a dove when baptised by John in the River Jordan.

The Holy Spirit is poured out on you and me in our baptism and confirmation as Christians, birthing us to new life in Christ.

The Holy Spirit is called down upon bread and wine making Jesus Christ present in his life-giving Body and Blood.

It is the Holy Spirit who kindles in us the fire of God’s love in order that we may be a blessing to the world and recognise Christ in all people.

In the Spirit, we prepare for our church vision day this coming Saturday.

Jerusalem on the Day of Pentecost sounds uncannily like Croydon town centre on a typical Saturday, crowds of people speaking a multiplicity or languages, some ready to hear, some ready to reject the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

The Spirit breathes into a world of anxiety, pain and death. As Peters in our own day our task is to interpret the signs of God to our generation and to declare that the doors of life are open to all who would walk into God’s kingdom.

What will that mean for this church?

In February Bishop Christopher shared his vision for us, speaking of the Minster as a holy place within the hustle and bustle of an ever-changing, swirling, colourful Croydon.

Three weeks ago Bishop Jonathan shared with us his vision of the Minster as a hub of mission and service to the wider community of Croydon.

Already people have shared with me some of their vision, hopes and aspirations for this place as we look to the future.

I have a deepening sense of the character of this church as being open to God and open to all people.

So we come together and, as the Prophet Joel said, ‘your sons and daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams’.

As Peter reminded the crowds this is not fantasy land, but an earnest seeking after God’s ways and purposes for us, here, now, in our day.

It will then be my task, and the task of our Parochial Church Council, to discern and interpret what the Spirit is saying to this church (cf Revelation 2.7 passim) as we look towards ‘the future with hope’ (Jeremiah 29.11).

The life-giving Spirit of Pentecost blows and burns in the life of this church today. It may be terrifying, exciting and bewildering.

Terrifying: so that we dare to speak of the mighty acts of God ourselves and testify to his mercies.

Exciting: so that our horizons are expanded, our vision enlarged and expectations raised.

Bewildering: so that we come to understand that our plans are empty until fulfilled with the presence of the Holy One.

Today, and on Saturday pray that, equipped by the Spirit, we as a church young and old, women and men may embrace God’s future for us with hope, serve our parish and sing God’s praise now and to all eternity.

Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful people, and kindle in us the fire of God’s love.




[1] Jean Vanier, Community and Growth (2nd edition) DLT: 2007, p. 111