And the greatest of these is love

Over the past few days I’ve been exploring various sites in Greece with a group of thirty-four other people – all of whom are Christians. This is in stark contrast to a month or so ago when I was travelling solo for three and a half weeks through parts of Israel and Palestine.

I’ve been reflecting on what it is like to travel with people who (apparently) believe in the same things that I do: that Jesus Christ was the Son of God who died and rose again for both my salvation and the salvation of the world.

Yesterday at the site of the Baptism of Lydia, we were invited to renew our Baptismal Vows. For many of us, these vows were made by our parents and Godparents at our Baptism (Christening) when we were infants. Some of us will have renewed these Vows at our Confirmation, and others will renew them each year at an Easter Vigil Service.

In baptism, God calls us out of darkness into his marvellous light.
To follow Christ means dying to sin and rising to new life with him. Therefore I ask:

Do you reject the devil and all rebellion against God?
I reject them.
Do you renounce the deceit and corruption of evil?
I renounce them.
Do you repent of the sins that separate us from God and neighbour?
I repent of them.
Do you turn to Christ as Saviour?
I turn to Christ.
Do you submit to Christ as Lord?
I submit to Christ.
Do you come to Christ, the way, the truth and the life?
I come to Christ.

When Christians are baptised, it is into the Universal Church. Baptism is not into a specific denomination - Protestant, Catholic, Baptist, Orthodox or any other – those who are Baptised are Baptised into the Church of God. How and where anyone chooses to worship later may be in any one of these denominations, but where we all begin is exactly the same. It is a pity that so many Christians forget this truth and that the denominational markers of practice and orthodoxy become barriers to the simple truths that we are children of God and we believe in Jesus Christ as our Lord and Saviour.

In these past days of travelling with this group of fellow Christians – some of whom are Church of England, others members of the United Reformed Church, Methodist and Roman Catholic Churches – it has been interesting to note the conversations that have taken place as people have sought to understand where people are ‘coming from’. “It’s not my tradition,” says one. “My choice of clerical shirt is black or… black. I can’t ‘do’ colour,” says another. “So do you use incense?” asks someone else, and it is not certain whether the question is being asked from someone of one denomination to another, or someone who is High Church in the Church of England (‘up the candle’) to someone who is Low Church (“I call it a [holy] table, not an altar”).

At its best, this kind of questioning can lead to interesting conversations of mutual discovery which open the mind and heart of one Christian to another. At its worst, this kind of questioning is a means of pigeon-holing others and seizing yet another opportunity to take the spiritual high-ground that ‘my church’s way is better than yours (and everyone else’s) and so are our prayers, thoughts, teachings and practices'. Alas, the history of the Church of God is littered with the outcomes of this way of thinking – schisms, excommunications, martyrdoms, murders, lies and deceit – all of which are a far cry from the prayer of Jesus to God, “Father, may they all be one.”

Before you mistake my intent, I am not of the mind that says we should all sing/say/pray the same thing at the same time in the same way. Prayer that glorifies God and seeks God’s will and God’s way is worthy of acceptance and encouragement by all. Worship that gives honour to God and reveals the truth that Jesus is Lord is worthy of acceptance and encouragement by all. What I hope for is a time when the worship offered by others or by me will be seen as valid and acceptable (note, not ‘valid’ and ‘acceptable’) by others, whatever their denominational or churchmanship affiliation and preference. Attacking me because you do not agree with me is not the way to proceed. Accusing me of preaching a false gospel (of which I was accused in Jerusalem because I said that God will be the one who judges as to who will be close to God in heaven and who will not) is not the way to proceed. If anyone claims to be a follower of Christ, let them first pray together, worship together and seek salvation together. Let them learn together as to how the Holy Spirit moves and challenges them to grow, develop and be corrected in faith. And let each of these be done kindly and in love. 1 Corinthians 13 is a wonderful treatise on just what this journey Christians make together should look like. Much loved for Weddings, this passage finds its locus in a letter to the people of Corinth who were having a challenging time being people of faith together. Many Christians in our current age would do well to read it and attend to its expression of truth, me included. Faith, hope and love [charity in older translations] abide, and the greatest of these is love. It is a genuinely wise soul that lives this.

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. ² And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. ³ If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.

⁴ Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant ⁵ or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; ⁶ it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. ⁷ It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

⁸ Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. ⁹ For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; ¹⁰ but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. ¹¹ When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. ¹² For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. ¹³ And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

The hospitality of strangers

I know, I know, I have already said more than once that I have a real sense of privilege at being able to be here – both in Palestine and at this hospital. To be given the time for a period of Extended Study Leave (ESL – aka Sabbatical – but not anymore… I believe this is so that there is a sense of purpose about it...) to undertake activities, study, prayer and worship that are both of interest and that ‘call’ to me is a privilege not afforded to all that many people. It is for this reason that I had a sense of wanting to use the time ‘well’ – to ensure that there was no sense of wasting time. As I have journeyed through the first month (and I realised today that it is just past the first month), somewhere inside there has been a deeper call to understand the sense what it means to be ‘one’. Jesus said, “May they all be one…” and I have been trying to comprehend what it means for different groups of people – be they grouped by nationality, faith, denominational practice, culture, race, gender, sexuality… and then there is the cross-over and mix of any number of these all together at any one time. My head has been full of thought (nothing new there for those who know me well!)

 

As each Sunday of my ESL has approached, I have wanted to find out where I can attend Church locally (unlike when I am on holiday and I don’t feel the need to be ‘in Church’ so much). There has been a deep desire to be ‘tethered’. This sense of tethering has felt much more than simply to be somewhere to worship: it is something more to do with ‘being’ with the household of faith to which I belong. It hasn’t mattered at all whether they are Anglican or not – and, in fact, the strangeness of language has, at various points, been lovely to lose myself in, challenging as I don’t know what is being said/sung, beautiful and mysterious and something akin to listening to the speaking/singing in tongues.

 

Having not succeeded in finding a huge amount of information on the net, I decided today to walk into the local community of Beit Jala, see which Church I came across first, and then join them. If the service was to be in English, that would be a bonus!

 

As I came into the outskirts, I pulled out my map and stood trying to work out where I was. A car pulled up and the passenger (a delightful young lady of about 12) asked if I needed help. I said I was looking for a Church – possibly St Mary’s. Her father asked if I wanted a Catholic Church and I said I didn’t mind. They asked me to hop in the car and they would give me a lift. (I should say that I had noticed a cross hanging from the rear view mirror – and any visible cross means an awful lot here than it does in the UK. I didn’t even think at the time that there would be any danger… in retrospect, perhaps I should be a bit more careful!) Anyway, once in the car, I said I was Protestant. “So are we.” said the father. Then I will come with you, said I! Thus I found myself in the Lutheran Church of Beit Jala, on Virgin Mary Street (!)

 

Now, I am an introvert (so what am I doing writing a blog?!) and am more than happy sitting at the back of a Church (like all good … Anglican/Catholics/Baptists – fill in the space with a denomination of your Church!) Alas, the two daughters from the car led the way to the front. Ah well. A few minutes later, the Pastor (Rev Saliba Rishmawi) appeared and with him another Minister. The Pastor came to say hello and asked if I was a Pastor too. "Yes! Ah, you are most welcome. You must come to join us at the front. We should be together and the people will see that we are one. Where are you from? Write it down so that I can introduce you properly. Come. Join us. This man, he is from Sweden.” So, in my pink sandals and carrying my hand bag (I kid you not!) I went to the back with them and formed part of the Procession into the Church (the ‘Procession’ being just us three ministers!)

 

The Service was completely in Arabic – hymns (which we sat down for), readings, prayers – all of it. The Pastor gave the reference in English (for me!) and from the sermon I caught the words, ‘facebook’, ‘like’, ‘I am sick’, ‘ I am well’ and inferred (who knows how) that he was saying something about real relationship. When we talked about it later I mentioned this and he said I was right! Goodness me, the Holy Spirit does indeed move in mysterious ways!

 

Never mind having wished to take my usual place at the back of the Church, I found myself right at the front: “The people will see you and I will introduce you and they will know you are a Pastor. You will help with Communion. They will know you are a Pastor.” What an amazing welcome. As the Service began, I found myself almost moved to tears to be in that place at that time with that Pastor with those people – to be welcomed in Christ as one among many. As the opening hymn began, I leant over to the Swedish minister and said, “Well, this is unexpected.” to which he replied, “It was the same for me last week!” He read one of the readings in Arabic (impressive) and I sat humming along to hymns, the tunes of which I knew but not the words – alas. When it came to the Nicene Creed I was completely flummoxed. You try being a lone voice saying the Creed in English (from memory) whilst everyone around you is speaking in a completely unfamiliar language. It was really weird! In the end I simply kept repeating, I believe in one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I figured that would have to be enough!

 

At the Eucharistic Prayer, I was invited to say the Words of Institution over the wine, having been preceded by the Swedish minister saying the Words of Institution over the bread. Saliba then repeated them in Arabic – just so everyone would know what had been said! When it came to the distribution, the Swedish Minister administered to one row of people, and then me the next. All of this was amazingly unexpected, and all was simple because the father and his daughters had stopped in their car to ask if I needed any help. As I ‘listened’ to the sermon, I pondered what it would be like if those travelling to Church on Sunday mornings in England – or anywhere else for that matter –were, if they saw people on foot, to pull over and ask people if they needed help or a lift, to discover that they might be interested in going along to Church too.

 

In addition to being welcomed to the Church by name, I was welcomed to participate in ways I would not/could not have expected in a denomination, Church community and country that were not my own. “We are one in Christ. You are my sister in Christ. While you are here, this must be your home,” said Saliba. And so, to my (spiritual) delight, I discover that they are holding a Service on Ash Wednesday which means that I will be able to walk there rather than take a taxi to Bethlehem. Rather like the desire to be tethered on a Sunday, so this desire has extended to Ash Wednesday and Lent.

 

Following the service, I was invited to go with Saliba to take Home Communion to a gentleman and his wife. The poor man is unwell and on oxygen... and in walk us three ministers with Saliba’s wife and daughter, and then three of the Church Elders arrived too. The chap who is unwell seemed to take it all in his stride! Out came cake, chocolates and Arabic coffee… there was much laughter and then, in the midst of it, a time of quiet calm for prayer and the sharing of the bread and wine.

 

My planned visit this afternoon to Bethlehem was put on hold as it was raining (and I was wearing sandals) and so I returned to the hospital was given an impromptu lesson in Arabic over lunch.

 

It was a morning of rich blessings and I have been challenged and consoled as to my welcome and hospitality of strangers. There has been much today to both learn from and receive – in so many good and wonderful ways.