Up into the mountains

I wonder if you’ve heard of Simoen Stylites? He was a Monk of the Syria who, as part of his spiritual discipline, lived at the top of a ‘tower’. Having been sought out over many years for his spiritual wisdom, but desirous of time and space to continue to deepen his relationship with God, living atop a tower was the place for him to gain the distance he needed. It may well seem an odd existence (an indeed a quite mad one one!) to many people in our own age. Spiritual discipline that invites/requires forms of asceticism that mirror our forebears in faith is not something explored much today. If it is explored, it is seen as ‘foreign’, ‘strange’, anachronistic and ‘of another age ‘.

Even though asceticism may not be something explored by many in the way in which they practise their faith (and no, giving up chocolate doesn’t really count as asceticism!), I think it would be fair to say that for many there is an interest, a fascination even, with people whose faith does have some form of external expression of note. Priests in clerical collars may be stared at – as are Monks and Nuns in habits (I know this from personal experience as, in both my habit when I was a Nun and when wearing my clerical collar travelling in Israel and Turkey, I have had people stop me to take my photograph!) In similar fashion in which Uniforms are noted – Police, Nurse, Air Steward – people notice religious ‘dress’, and even more so the places in which people of faith reside/practise their faith.

Cathedrals, Mosques, Synagogues, Temples are all places many Tourists will visit when travelling abroad. St Paul Cathedral in London, the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, the Temple in Neasden – as well as countless places across the globe, are visited by those who want to see, to experience, to understand something of what these places have been in the past, and are now. The wise will stand/sit/kneel/wander and simply gaze in wonder at what each place holds – of beauty and of prayer. Some may ask questions such as, Why this place? Why here? Why then? Why still now? And, of course, the question, “What can I learn?” should always be in the mix somewhere. (I say so, anyway!)

A visit to the ‘City of Meteora’ is one such place to which thousands flock – fascinated by the Monasteries that sit atop slender rocky formations. A UNESCO World Heritage Site, the six Greek Orthodox Monasteries are reached by perilously winding roads that weave their way round the surrounding mountains – rising increasingly higher with each bend. The mountains used to be under the sea many, many thousands of years ago. It was a quite amazing feeling to realise that what we were looking at used to be part of an under-water world and there are structures like these under water now – ones that, perhaps, have never and will never be seen in my life time.

The views from the coach windows were breath-taking (and nausea-inducing for those of us who don’t ‘do’ heights! The sheer drops from the sides of the roads were more marked than the drive up to the Monastery of John the Forerunner as these were sheer drops with little that would have saved us. Oh my!) Across the yawning gaps between the mountains were glimpses, first far in the distance and then coming closer, of buildings seeming to stand amidst one another, only to be revealed as individual buildings each atop its own needle-like rock pointing up to the sky.

 

Each one is quite stunning to look at, not only for the way in which each building seems to grip to top of its needle, but also for the way in which is causes one truly to wonder at the ingenuity of the countless generations of faithful people who have, quite literally, made their home here. Beginning by making makeshift shelters, perhaps in natural caves our rocky outcrops, now each Monastery has running water and electricity. The line that has been going through my mind over these past days is, Necessity is the mother of invention. The desire and the call to be alone with God brought men and women to these amazing places of natural solitude and isolation, and here they created these place of wonder. Quite wonderful. Quite amazing. Quite stunning.

We visited two of the Monasteries: St Stephanos and Holy Trinity. After the coach ride, St Stephanos is reached via many, many steps on staircases open to the elements – apart from one small ‘corridor’ cut right through the rock. It’s was a good work out for the legs – and heart – with any need to pause and catch ones breath being met by virtue of a small ‘balcony’ in which housed a lovely ‘grotto’ on which were placed the ubiquitous coins and curios of various pilgrims (and tourists) to this place.

 

 

Continuing on up, the entrance to the Monastery was reached via a small door which opened into a ‘corridor’ in which there was a kiosk for someone to take our money to enter (3 euro). There was also the other end of the cable car system which is used by the community for transporting heavy items, as well as members of the community who are unwell. I should also mention the basket of wraps for women wearing trousers – so that they would seem to be wearing a skirt instead. (I am saying nothing…)

Moving onwards and upwards takes the visitor past the old Carpentry Shop, the Catacomb (more anon) and up to the Church, surrounded by other buildings such as the Museum and Gallery – as well as, presumably, the Community areas.

Photographs of the interior of the Church are not allowed, alas. This is no bad thing though as not being able to take photographs means a) the crowd move a bit faster and, more importantly, b) you have to take more care in looking in order to really ‘see’. Although it was relatively dark inside the main body of the Church, the images of the life of Jesus and the depictions of the Saints on the walls could be seen quite clearly, and the gold which adorned each of them created delightful adornment to what was already a spiritual and artistic feast to the eye. The Church was crowded, but there was a hush amidst us all. Our Guide explained the various painting we could see, and the importance of the way in which they were configured – with Christ Pantocrator above all, moving on to the Angels in all their Orders, the Saints, Creation, perhaps… and the inclusion of a form of Doom Painting was there too – with the ‘beast’ of temptation drawing souls away from Christ and into the fiery furnace. There was much graphic detail in the torture and deaths of many Saints in the Narthex, and the vividness of representation continued on into the main body of the Church. The faithful, the curious, the artist, the tourist – all are gathered together with necks craned upwards, surrounded by serried ranks of angels, Saints, sinners. Some of these were just like us, we mirror one another – with the hope and promise of redemption held out to us all.

Following the visit to the Church there was time to explore the Monastery a little further: there were rooms filed with illuminated manuscripts and papers from many, many centuries ago. There were vestments with beautiful embroidery – and also, quite bizarrely, a Gallery of Propaganda Art relating to the Second World War. And then there was the Catacomb.

 

To those who follow his Rule, St Benedict offers the injunction, Keep death daily before your eyes. Well, here in the Monastery, they don’t follow the Rule of St Benedict, but they could easly have lifted this injunction from it. Stored in a room for all to see as they pass by, are the skulls (and other bones, I think) of all the members of the Community from across the centuries. It feels more than just a bit weird to see them lined up on shelves, I have to say but, as the Monasteries are high up on the rock formations, no burials are ever going to possible. The bodies of the deceased are placed into a safe place until the flesh has gone, and then the bones are placed into the Ossuary/Catacomb. They are there, waiting for Jesus to come again and for their body’s to be restored.

We moved on to the second Monastery – dedicated to the Holy Trinity. This is a Monastery for women, and the Sisters were in greater evidence than the monks at St Stephens. (I think I saw the back of one Monk in the distance at St Stephanos.) Again, the Church is a place of beauty. Again, there was the hush of the Pilgrim and Tourist alike as we gazed in wonder at the beauty that surrounded us, and wondered too at how it was possible to even begin to imagine living in such a place. How did the first Monks exist out here? How were the materials for the first dwellings found here, or transported here? When did the first women come here and were they welcomed and accepted? How is electricity brought here? How do those who live here now cope with the sheer volume of visitors and maintain a life of prayer and spiritual discipline? How do these independent Monasteries develop their life of prayer alongside one another, work alongside one another, learn alongside one another, offer the ministry of hospitality alongside one another? So many questions but, alas, no opportunity to ask them as we had no opportunity to speak with anyone from any of the Communities. I can understand this – given the number of people who visit each and every day (even in the snow flurries which we enjoyed!) Speaking to the visitors who come would be more than a full time task and would impinge terribly on the life of solitude that is sought. Some of the questions we might have wished to ask (such as those above) are not the important ones though. Necessity is the mother of invention, as they say, so finding ways to overcome electricity, the transport of building materials etc. etc. is not the important stuff of this existence – it is more to do with: What do you doing here? What difference do you make by being here? Why do you want to be here, stay here, pray here? What is God revealing to you in this place, in this time, in this now? These are the questions I was asking as I journeyed round these places, and they seem good ones to ask of myself as I end this entry, and begin the next part of the journey.

What are you doing here?
What difference do you make by being here?
Why do you want to be here, stay here, pray here?
What is God revealing to you in this place, in this time, in this now?

The last day in the Holy Land

The last day of my travels in Palestine and Israel took in the Mount of the Transfiguration – also known as Mount Tabor. It is a mountain that stands apart from those that fill this region, with the others forming chains that form beautiful peaks and troughs along the horizon in every direction. On this mountain, Jesus is believed to have been transfigured so that his face shone as the sun, and the three disciples who he had taken with saw a vision in which Moses and Elijah appeared. It is an awe-inspiring ‘story’, the events of which must have left the disciples wondering what on earth was going on. In addition to this event, Mount Tabor is the site of an amazing battle recorded in Judges 4 in which the Prophetess and Judge Deborah joined with Barak to defeat the Canaanite forces on the Valley of Jezreel. Today the valley is fertile and used for agriculture and the like but, as we drive from here along the road to Megiddo (Armageddon), it was not so hard to recall the fact that the valley must have been soaked in blood over many hundreds of years as the warring factions sought to take control of this region – being that it was part of the well-trodden along important trade routes.

We were blessed with sunshine as we drove away from the Sea of Galilee towards Mount Tabor and the perfect weather continued just until we reached the Basilica on the top of the Mountain. Unless one walks up the mountain from the car park, the route up is via the most tortuous of roads – absolutely not for the faint-hearted of drivers. The series of hairpin bends is shown quite clearly on the map but the map doesn’t reveal the taxi-vans that come hurtling round the corners at a rapid rate of knots, taking unsuspecting drivers unawares. Neither does the map forewarn you that the wall built to protect cars from heading over the precipice in case of slipping in wet weather (or seeking to avoid said taxis) is only about a foot high, so will be of absolutely no use whatsoever if the need to use them arose. Indeed, one of the walls had quite a seriously hole in it, and I imagine it had only barely managed to stop the vehicle that had hit it. Jesus and the disciples will have been far safer walking up the mountain, whilst Deborah (whose namesake town, Daburiyya is at the bottom of the mountain) will, of course, have been riding on her trusty, valiant and noble steed! (Not that I’m biased…)

The Basilica at the top of the mountain is quite lovely. The nave is open so that the remains of an earlier Century Basilica can be revealed through glass ‘windows’ in the ground. Designed by Bertolucci, the Basilica has what I have come to think of as his trade-mark windows. These can be seen in the Church of All Nations, the Church of the Beatitudes, the Church at the Shepherd’s Fields in Beit Sehour… amongst other places. We were lucky in that a large group was just leaving and so were able to be quiet and still in this lovely place on our last day as we made our way back towards the airport.

There were a few other people around and, as I made my way to sit quietly in the nave, there were a couple sitting closely side by side, singing a hymn together quietly. They then sat in complete stillness with their eye closed, praying. My friend and I read the account of the Transfiguration, and it was so powerful to hear it again in this place. (It is interesting the things one notices though – something new each time if one is lucky. On this occasion, it was that Jesus didn’t know what to say to the disciples because they were so afraid. I was moved by his humanity and also his helplessness…) The husband of the couple by this time was taking his wife’s photograph, and I offered to take one of them both together. They then did the same for me and my friend. Of course, then we feel into conversation as I showed them the photograph I had taken of them so calm and still as they prayed and they then told us that it was ten years since they had last visited and that on that occasion, the husband had led the prayers and, as he had done so, he received a vision. It was so lovely to hear them tell of this wonderful gift. (I should mention that they were French and their English so good. I tried my best in French, but was much relived when the husband of my bible reading companion came along and could continue the conversation in much better fashion than I!) the French couple suggested we should pray together, in our own languages, and so we did – praying the Angelus. How lovely it was to be joined in prayer with these complete strangers who were also friends in Christ.

This was such a fitting end to this time I spent in the Holy Land. From beginning to end, there was so much that was good, so much that was both thought-provoking and prayer-provoking, so much that challenged me, consoled me, comforted me, encouraged me. There is much to sift through in my mind and in my prayer. There is much to try to make sense of that has troubled me or made me wonder what faith and commitment to God are all about – and what faith and commitment can lead people to do – both for good and ill – in the name of religion/God/gods. I feel such a sense of privilege for having been able to spend this time in the land that I have come to love so much but I also feel a sense of responsibility to tell the story of my time well, and to tell well the stories of the people I met and the places and sights I saw.

What gifts I have received.

Visual delights to start the day

With no particular focus for today, l made my way through the Zion Gate this morning. It is so easy to pass by the importance of that statement. I made my way through the Zion Gate. The place where I am staying is on Mount Zion. We read of this place countless times in the Scriptures – both Hebrew and Christian. It is a place of great importance for it was here that David captured Jerusalem from the Jebusites and realised that God had given the land into the hands of the Israelites (2 Sam 5:7). In the grounds of the place where I am staying are the steps upon which Jesus is believed to have walked leading up the hill away from the Kidron Valley. On Mount Zion stands the Dormition Abbey where Mary is held to have ‘fallen asleep’ and ascended to heaven (although it is also possible to visit the Tomb of the Virgin Mary where she is buried, here in Jerusalem, in addition to seeing The House of Mary in Turkey, where she is believed to have lived out her days with St John! To cover all bases, I've been to all three...) For thousands of years this Mountain has been of importance to God’s people, and it remains so today.

With no particular focus for today, l made my way through the Zion Gate this morning.

The places explored across the five or so hours of walking took in all the four areas of the City: Armenian, Jewish, Christian and Muslim. I discovered myself in the Jewish area by accident and so, out of respect for the Sabbath, made my way away from it. It was my sense of circumspection rather than anything else... how weird am I?!

The walk through the Gate took me initially past the Cathedral of St James. I was actually looking for the Mardigian Museum which I was told by the entrance keeper to the church had been closed for three years (for those who like a smile, check this out!) My Library copy of Dorling Kindersley’s book is not all that up to date then (2012 Edition - should have checked the website!) He told me I could go into the church – which I thought was only open between 6-730 in the morning (no chance of me getting there at the moment, I’m still on UK time!) In the courtyard that leads into the church itself, there was one of the most joyful depictions of Mary and the Infant Christ that I have ever seen. It was such a lovely image with which to start the day.

 
There are beautiful mosaics beyond the gates (which were firmly locked, alas). Beautiful mosaics and images is a hallmark of this City, all of which sit alongside the challenge of religion and politics. It's a confusing place.

Drifting on from there I came across the iron steps that lead you up to ‘A Walk on the Roofs’ where you do, quite literally, walk on the rooftops – mainly above the souk, but also above homes, churches, synagogues and mosques. There were bicycles up there, children playing, families making their way over the rooftops – as it was a much easier route than the busy, winding streets below. From the rooftops you can see across to the surrounding hills, but up close it is a fantastic mess of satellite dishes (no planning permission required, obviously!), make-shift covers to stop the rain getting into the souk below, a playground, some smartly covered areas of flooring with other area that are quite dangerous if you don’t mind where you step. There are many nooks and crannies – one of which I followed – finding myself, quite unexpectedly, on a veranda overlooking the Western Wall (previously known as the Wailing Wall). I was soon joined by some young Jewish boys, and an older Jewish gentleman. They didn’t seem to mind me being there and, whilst I have valued immensely the privilege of praying alongside Jews and Christians at the Wall on previous visits (usually for peace in this City of Jerusalem) it felt right on this occasion to be at a distance – praying, watching, waiting, remaining, hoping.

And so I moved on… down a staircase, briefly into the souk, and then out into the Muristan area where I spent a while listening to a guitarist playing beautifully soul-full music. It was lovely here, away from the crowds for a while…

With no particular focus for today, l made my way through the Zion Gate this morning. It was a good morning – with more to follow… which will follow in a later entry as this one is far too long already!

Healing (Trinity 20 Year C)

The accounts of the healing of Naaman and the Ten Lepers reveal to us the miraculous power of God to intervene and change things in our world. People continue to be healed in our own age by the power of God through healings that are miraculous and caused either only, apparently by prayer, or the power of medicine. Perhaps there might also be space for it being about both. In my twenties I was a member of the Healing Ministry Team at my church for six years before moving away to join the religious Community to which I belonged. The call to pray for people remained and it was – and is – something to which I am aware I am still called. I am not alone in this ministry today though; we all share in it each week as we pray the names on our Pew Leaflet of those people who are unwell. Some people have been there a long time as the need to pray for them continues. No-one can ever have enough prayer and, as we sing at Evensong sometimes, ‘The voice of prayer is never silent nor dies the strain of praise away’.

We all need prayer and this is the reality of our life. Life is sometimes messy and it is sometimes painful and, whilst there are amazing miracles that take place like the ones we have heard of today, life isn’t always like that. It wasn’t always like it in the time of the Prophets or in the time of Jesus – and it isn’t always like it now. The miracles of the Bible are recorded because they were just that, miraculous. God worked in these miraculous ways, but people will also have died – through old age, through natural causes, or, alas, at the hands of others. So what exactly are our prayers for? Why do we have to suffer? Why can’t we simply fall asleep and not wake up the next day – making our end peaceful and calm? I have no easy answers I am afraid – and I wrestle with these questions as much as the next person – but I do believe in miracles, I do believe God listens and I do believe God cares.

Let me tell you about Chris. Chris was a member of the Healing Ministry Team to which I belonged back in the 1990s and Chris was lovely. She was beautiful and vivacious – with a crackingly handsome husband and two delightful sons. Chris was first diagnosed with breast cancer in her early thirties and died about eighteen months after it returned when she was in her early forties. Her sons were in their early teens, and her husband was left completely bereft – wondering how to bring up their two sons on his own. Chris joined the Healing Team about five years after her first bout of cancer, and continued to be part of the Team until about three months before her death. Of course we prayed for her healing – the whole church did. Did God answer our prayers for her healing? It took a long time for many to realise it, but yes, God did. Chris died at peace – and this was healing in its most pure form for her. Visiting Chris wasn’t easy, but one always came away feeling thoughtful, with a sense that life – and death – was pared down to a truth and reality in a way that was true gift

This may seem a long way from lepers being healed – but I do think that, at some level, our fear of illness is very bound up with our fear of our own mortality. To a certain extent we probably all grow up thinking we are pretty invincible – if we think about it at all. Naaman will have thought this as he rose to a position of power and authority and realised he had leprosy, and so also will those ten men who pleaded for healing. ‘Our bodies are amazing,’ I often say to people, adding on, ‘until they begin to go wrong.’ When illness strikes, we are often forced into a place of being, or at least feeling, apart from others: not wishing to share our germs, not wanting to be seen in our PJs and, most of all for many of us, not wanting to be seen when we are vulnerable and low. Naaman may well have been fearful of passing on his disease; the lepers had already been cast out – what more could happen to them? Some of us may feel this when we are ill or depressed, anxious or upset about something,

There will be people known to you whose names you carry in your heart as you know something of the difficulty of life with which they live – be it health or wealth or life circumstance. Prayers for the healing of people’s difficulties takes many forms and, whilst many assume prayers for healing are only for the sick or dying, prayers for the many and varied situations in which people find themselves also have their place. We might pray for healing in the life the young person who will have received something from our Harvest giving last Sunday – the young person who was thrown out of their home because their father has found a new partner and ‘there’s no room for them now’. We might pray for healing in the life of the person recently moved into our road who seems to have no one visiting and who rarely goes out yet we see them looking out from behind the net curtains. They might just be a busy-body, but they might also simply be afraid of this new environment.

God’s healing presence changes things – not always in the way we might hope for, long for, or even expect. In all things, hope has its place: hope placed in a God who loves and who cares and who wills for our good. If you notice anything further than the healing of body in the two accounts of healing before us today, let it be this: it is not just the physical healing that is recorded – it is the healing of the spirit too. Naaman returns to Elisha and says, “Now I know that there is no God in all the world except in Israel.” The Samaritan leper, ‘when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him.’ The hearts of both men were changed – both recognised the work of God. Both wanted God to change their lives – both sought out God’s work for their lives – and God came to them.

God cares. Our bodies and minds are frail and, alas, they will fail: for some of us this might be happening rather quicker than we might like! God cares though. In the midst of it all, God is to be found. God is to be found in the nurse who wipes away our tears. God is to be found in the friend who doesn’t cross the road when they see us coming, embarrassed because they don’t know what to say. God is to be found in the note that is dropped through our door by someone who has seen we are looking a bit tired or frail – and who invites us over for a cup of tea. God is always to be found – but we, like Naaman and like the Samaritan leper – and like Chris – need to look, to seek, to come to God – and also be willing to be found by him.

The invitation from our good and generous, caring and care-ful God is come. Come to me all you who are weary… fearful, ill, tired, lonely… and I will give you rest – in my open, gentle and loving embrace. Come.

Dancing with the Trinity

There are many preachers who try to avoid preaching on Trinity Sunday like the plague. Personally I love this day as it brings together all of the Feast Days of the past six months: all the way back to Advent and Christmas– through to Pentecost last week. God incarnate in Jesus Christ, God as Lord of creation in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and God paradoxically at once immanent and transcendent in the Holy Spirit that both hovered over the face of the earth at the birth of creation and hovers in creation still as it inspires and guides each one of us. God, recognised in different times and places – altogether other, different and separate within itself yet altogether the same, similar and co-joined in intention and life, all that we understand of God, have experienced of God, hope and believe about God, is gathered into and expressed in this day as we prepare to journey through the next six months – towards celebrating the great Feast Days and Festivals again.

We speak about the Holy Trinity and use the term Persons to describe the three ‘parts’ that make up the Trinity: the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Over time, and through God’s revelation to us in different ways, we have come to understand God in these three different ways: God who creates – Mother/Father; God who redeems – the beloved Son; God who sanctifies – the Holy Spirit, Wisdom, in Hebrew – ruach, the breath and being of life. We name each of facet of the Trinity as ‘Person’ because each facet of the Trinity is unique and individual. In their uniqueness and individuality though there is no conflict, division or isolation. The Persons of the Trinity are intertwined, they dance around each other, supporting and complementing each other. Within the dance, difference is released also though, similarity of intent and state is gathered – and celebrated too.

The person of the Trinity who creates, named as Father and also Mother, the one who gave life to the whole of creation at its beginning – the Creator continues to pour out love in the on-going way of the world and the universe. We are so very small, yet the Creator knows our name – yours and mine – this person of the Trinity counts the hairs on our head as well as the number of the stars in the sky. This person of the Trinity suffuses the world with light and love – and continues to pour out love now. All time is as of a moment for God – there is no beginning and no end and nothing is beyond the reach of God’s creative love.

The person of Trinity who redeems – named as Jesus the Son of God, the Christ, the Messiah, the Saviour of the World – the Saviour continues the task of redemption even now. As we have celebrated over these recent weeks and months, God broke through the heavens, took human form and walked and lived as we do, taught the disciples and peoples about the love that he carried within him, the love of the Creator, and how this love would take him to the cross in the ultimate self-sacrifice whereby we would know understand how much God loves us. No longer should our waywardness separate us from the one who created us. No longer should the disobedience of our forebears characterise the relationship that we have with God whereby we are cast out for their forgetting God’s love – rather a new way is opened to us. This new way is one that takes us into heaven – through the forgiveness won for us by Jesus on the cross, and even more so through the conquering of death – as we celebrated on Easter Day. The love of the Saviour that redeems and that also brought creation to birth – continues today – offering to each person who turns to Christ the promise of life eternal.

The person of the Trinity that sanctifies – named as the Holy Spirit, ruach, Wisdom – this person of the Trinity, present at the creation of the world and poured anew on the disciples at Pentecost, and present too at the baptism of Christ – this person of the Trinity continues to inspire, to equip and to guide even now. As we celebrated last week, and as we pray each Sunday and each day, the Holy Spirit comes upon us and fills us anew each moment with the grace of God, allowing us to live by God’s grace and in God’s love. The Holy Spirit equips us with the Gifts of the Spirit, and these in turn give life to us, to the church and to the world. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness goodness, self-control – these fruits of the spirit allow life and love to flow throughout our community of faith and into the world. It is the Holy Spirit that has inspired us to take ‘Serving the whole community’ as our strapline – for it is the whole of humanity that we are called to serve – our church community, our local community and the community that is humanity across the world. Nowhere is beyond the reach of God’s love, and nowhere is beyond our love either. The Holy Spirit, invisible and mysterious, leads us on a journey that is exciting and challenging and wonderful. Just as the ways and wonders of each of the persons of the Trinity are intertwined with one another, unique and yet indivisible, so they are intertwined with each one of us. We are made holy, as we hear in the words of Jesus today: When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come.

These things have been declared to us through the grace and gift of the Holy Spirit, and thus we share in the work of creating, redeeming and sanctifying the world around us. We do not do this by our own power, but by the power of God. We are made holy, set apart for God’s will, by God’s will. The Trinitarian God of Creation, of Redemption and of Sanctification speaks into the heart of each one of us and, if we listen, we will hear words that invite us to join in the work of the Trinity too. God created the world in love, redeemed each one of us in love and sanctified each one of us love. God as creator continues to create – and invites us to do so too. God as Saviour continues to redeem – and invites us to do so too – by sharing this truth as possibility. God as Spirit continues to sanctify – and invites us to do so too, by sharing this truth as possibility for ourselves and for those around us.

I said earlier, that the Persons of the Trinity are intertwined, they dance around each other, supporting and complementing each other and that within the dance difference is released and similarity of intent and state is gathered and celebrated. I also said that I love this today – this Feast Day of the Church. It is about all that God is and all that God does – for each one of us and for the world. We are invited to join the dance, to join the work and to live the wonderful truth that God reveals herself to us in these different ways and that God invites us to join him in his work and will for the world.

Come and join the dance. Amen.

Being in the right place at the right time

Some of you will know the saying, the devil is in the detail: possibly not the most appropriate saying with which to open a sermon in a church… but you know me!

The detail on which my eye has settled when reading the passages for this evening is on the question: “Why do you stand looking up towards heaven?” It takes me back to Easter Day, when we heard the men in dazzling white addressing the women who had come to anoint Jesus’ body, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”

Now those of you who know your bible inside out, or at least the relationship between writers and particular books, may already be ahead of me when recalling that scholars hold it to be that the same author wrote the Gospel of Luke from which the account of the resurrection I have quoted comes, as well as book of Acts. No wonder then there is similarity of sentence construction: Why do you… stand looking… Why do you… look for the living… continuing on to say what has either happened or what will happen.

If we conflate these two questions for the moment into Why are you looking… I find that the asking of this question is quite fascinating. Personally, I don’t find it unreasonable that the women would be at the graveside on the third morning, having come to anoint the body of Jesus. It would have been the first day after the Sabbath that they would have been able to come and so, in love, they came. Not only in love though, but also in service, dedication – and grief too. On finding that the body of Jesus was not there, we read that they were perplexed – and this is not unreasonable either. Neither do I find it unreasonable that that the disciples, on seeing Jesus ascend into heaven just moments before, would be looking upwards towards the sky! Recall another, more child-like saying, no-one likes a smarty-pants: in the detail of clever men in white robes appearing at gravesides and on mountain tops – there is more than just a slight feeling of a pair of smarty-pants being in the building! To this I shall return!

This ‘Why are you ‘looking is not the most important part of the questioning though – it is about where and when they are looking. Neither of these places is the place to look because Jesus is no longer there. The women by the grave and the disciples on the hill top are challenged to remember and to respond.

The women are reminded to think about Jesus’ prophecy, his promise that he would rise again after three days. They do indeed remember, and go to tell the disciples that what Jesus said would happen has indeed taken place. Alas, the men did not believe them – but that’s another story! The women see, the women look, the women remember, the women respond.

As we have heard in Gospel reading this evening, just moments before the men in white robes appear, the disciples have been told what is to happen and what they are to do. Rather than standing looking up to the heavens, they are urged to remember, and to respond with alacrity. They are challenged not to just stand there and wait, but to get on and go to the city and wait there for the Spirit to come. The disciples see, the disciples look, the disciples remember, the disciples respond – just as the women at the grave did.

The women and the disciples are being told, this is not the most important part of the proceedings because Jesus told you what would happen. Believe it to be so, and move to where he will be because you know what he says is true. ‘Why do you stand looking here when…’ really means, ‘You’re in the wrong place at the wrong time’.

As we will know, this theme runs persistently through the Gospels, of the disciples seeking to understand, seeking to do the right thing, seeking to be in the right place – but often getting it ever so slightly wrong. It’s not for want of trying though – and they do learn and they do succeed – they must have done or we wouldn’t be here today. The women at the graveside, the disciples at the top of the mountain needed someone to assist them as Jesus is no longer here to do it. The smarty-pants in white robes are, in fact, angels – doing what angels do – giving a message, reminding, prompting – sharing the words, works and purposes of God. Jesus is no longer there to remind these people, the angels cannot stay to do this either – and so they remind these people of what Jesus foretold and encourage them to move to be in the right place at the right time. The women are to be the apostles to the apostles and the disciples are to be in Jerusalem to receive the Holy Spirit.

People who can ask us – kindly – why are you looking here when you have already heard, or you already know, are useful people to find. Sometimes we may be stuck; we may be pausing and waiting in familiar territory, fearful of what is to come, or forgetting what we already know. In these situations, God will often send someone with the right word, a reminder that will set us on the right track that will give us courage to walk towards what is to come to us. The promises of God are many and generous and are there for us to step into.

So what of the next events – for what are we waiting? What might be for us in this period in which we, like the disciples, wait for Jesus to descend in the way he ascended? What might we be hoping for as we prepare to celebrate again the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost?

Well, to begin with, what have we been promised? What has Jesus revealed to us that will change our world – even now, these two thousand or so years on? For you as an individual, what already that ‘fits’ with what you know to be God’s purposes for you, and for those around you? What has been offered to the people of God that you know could be in accord with your ‘skill set’ and therefore could be the task that is assigned for you to do? Who are the people around you in metaphorical white robes who are reminding you of what you already know and what Jesus has promised and therefore where you should be going to next.

This time from Ascension Day to Pentecost is set aside by the church as a time for praying in the Holy Spirit into our loves again. Perhaps these questions that we might ask are ones you might spend these next days praying with and pondering – thus moving yourself spiritually to the right place so that you are prepared for what is to come for you and those around you. Not using them just as questions, but rather as an invitation to God to make you ready to respond to what God wants you to do with him to change your life and the life of the world.

A prayer for these days towards Pentecost:

Lord God,

show me where you want me to be
and give me courage to go there;

show me what you want me to do
and give me strength to fulfil the task you have assigned;

show me who will help me
and give me grace to receive your guidance through them;

show me your will
and give me humility to accept the gifts you give to me.

Amen.

Do you love me?

One of the many joys of ministry is welcoming school groups to our church. We visit the different parts of the building, exploring what they are for. We rehearse the names of different objects and items, learning what they are for. The children are sometimes allowed a play on the organ – but don’t tell Andrew that, and they usually enjoy having a peek in the choir folders – but don’t tell them that either. We usually make our way from the font to the High Altar, and usually close by sitting in the Choir Stalls looking at the East Window.

If you were in church on Easter Day, you will have my esteemed colleague in ministry, Michael Baker, preaching. As part of his sermon, he reflected on the figures who are the bystanders in the East Window of our church. Our forebears in faith were a canny lot and, as such, churches across the land have windows such as ours created to tell the story of an event in the life of Christ. Others windows around churches will portray images and accounts of events and saints – biblical and of later years. Contemporary windows also offer reflections in glass, meditations even, on events for which the window is designed to provoke thought, wonder and mystery. Take the stunning Prisoner of Conscience Window in Salisbury Cathedral, or the Rose Window at St Albans.

As so many Ministers up and down the land will tell children visiting their churches, these ‘pictures in glass’ are there from a time when very few people could read, and they needed the pictures to remind them of the biblical accounts of the life of Jesus and their ancestors in faith. I could also suggest they are something to look at when the sermon is rattling on too long – waiting to see who among you smiles so that I know who hasn’t yet drifted off down that particular route!

I talk of images because that is exactly what we have before us in our readings today. Those who wrote these accounts paint for us vivid pictures of the many different events that form part our collective consciousness of faith. I use the word ‘collective’ deliberately because, although we are each journeying with God in ways unique to us as individuals, there is an inheritance of faith that we stand within and that we interpret to and for one another. Our interpretation stands alongside that of artists and theologians throughout the ages – thus we have East Windows, Rose Windows, Icons, Statues – and the Scriptures.

Picture the scene then… the dusty, hot, long, wearying road out of Jerusalem to Damascus. Saul in typical ferocious lather, on his way to ‘get’ these Christians – to root them out, seek them out, annihilate them (and, in truth, this was a form of ethnic cleansing). On this dusty road this man of fervour was brought to his knees, literally, in an event that is so often referred to in everyday life: She/he/I saw the light, a Damascus experience, blinded by the light… the event that came upon Paul gave rise to all of these!

Why this picture of this man? Why this life-changing experience? Why this picture of this event? The simplest answer is because it gives us an image of a life completely altered. This man is given this gift and it is revealed to us so that we might know the life-changing power of God. If God can change this man, God can change us too. If God can act in this way to change the lives and experiences of the early church, then he can act to change the lives and experiences of Christians through the ages too. This man, this experience, this event all point towards the impossible becoming possible – with God. In a time when being a Follower of the Way, was still not entirely a safe thing to own up to being the people of the Early Church needed to understand that God could and would act for their good. This man Saul, whom we know as Paul, became an enormous figure in the landscape of the Early Church – travelling near and far, teaching, preaching, praying, and healing as he went. If God could change this man, God could and would change the whole landscape of life.

Another impetuous hot-head, Simon Peter has acted in haste for love of Jesus throughout Jesus’ ministry. No standing back as a fainting wall-flower for him, he has been a man of action throughout… until that fateful night. Peter's place in the action on the Mount of Olives, and then his apparent betrayal is painted in heart-breaking clarity. In account of the Passion, Jesus tells Peter he will deny him, Peter is affronted at this prediction, but then Peter is heartbroken as he hears the cock crow for the third time. The Gospel of Luke tells us that Peter went out and wept bitterly (Luke 22:62).

In the seashore BBQ event that we hear today (the last of Jesus’ miracles recorded in John’s Gospel) we are witnesses to a life-changing moment for Simon Peter. The man who had denied Jesus is given a chance to turn his life around and begin again. “Simon son of John, do you love me…?” Three times Simon Peter is asked this question and, as so many commentators remark, it mirrors the triple denial given during Jesus’ trial. The third time Jesus asks, we read that Peter was hurt by the question. Imagine how Jesus will have felt though, not just by Peter’s denial, but in having to predict Peter’s denial. Perhaps, in this moment of asking Peter if he loves him, Jesus is not only giving Peter the chance to redeem himself but there is an encounter of an even greater profundity as Jesus affirms to himself that, in predicting a denial that came to pass, he has not pushed Peter so far away from him that Peter could not love him any more. The questioning could, just possibly, be as much for the benefit of Jesus as for Peter… and for us.

Why this picture of this man? Why this life-changing experience? Why this picture of this event?

Simon Peter was there from the first but apparently failed at the last. Jesus redeems him though. As we have seen, and I hope it is not heretical, we might even consider that Jesus redeems himself… he has not tested Peter too far, Peter loves him, the disciples love him and the work of the kingdom can continue in the hands of these people.

Looking back to Saul, to Paul, we know it will not be plain-sailing for these disciples, nor for the apostles that will be gathered around them. The path will be dangerous and will cost some of them their lives. “Do you love me more than these?” Peter is asked, the answer has to be yes, because Peter will have to show this with his own life.

It is a scary question to be asked: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Deborah, daughter of Tom, do you love me? David, Michael, Suzanne, Jane… do you love me? Fill in your own name… “do you love me?”

“Do you love me?” In the silence, I pray your answer will be, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you” so that we can each take our place in the wonderful picture of the church that has been painted through the years and which continues to be painted in our times and which will continue to be painted in the years to come.

Lord Jesus Christ, when you ask us of our love for you, let us affirm this in confidence and faith, trusting that you can change all things for good. Amen.