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.

Going back to go forward

A few weeks ago this period Extended Study Leave (ESL) began with a few days in Cardiff. It’s a city I’d previously visited for just a one night stay many moons ago, ahead of the ordination of a friend at Llandaff Cathedral. I knew I needed to get away at the start of this ESL or I’d just carry on carrying-on with the many ‘little’ tasks which needed to be completed before I could down tools and step away from the every-day task of ministry and ‘being a vicar’. I can’t begin to tell you the sense of privilege I feel at being given this time away; time to think, pray, rest, recover, reflect, read, explore… and so much more…

And so to Cardiff.

I had a really interesting few days – visiting places such as St Fagans, the building that houses the National Assembly for Wales, and Pierhead. St Fagan’s was such an interesting place, and really worth a visit if you are over that way – not least because you could spend the whole day there and it’s free! (When I said this to one of the staff he replied, “Ah yes, we’re frittering away your English taxes.” I made no reply!)

One of the highlights of the week was attending the mid-week Eucharist Service at Dewi Sant. It’s the only completely Welsh speaking church in the city. Everything is in Welsh, and I mean everything! Hymns, readings, prayers, notices (I got a mention in dispatches and the only reason I know this is that I recognised my name being said as you can’t say Deborah in any other way – even in Welsh!) I was quite happy to go with the flow of a Service in a foreign language knowing that I‘d have some clue as to what was going on by the shape of the Service (readings, hymns etc.) or the priest waving his hands around – for example, during the Eucharistic Prayer or at the Blessing. Imagine my relief then when the Service Book was opened for me at the relevant page and it was ‘simultaneous translation’ on the facing pages! (I can tell you it takes less space to write out (and to say) the Lord’s Prayer in English – just in case you ever feel you need to know.) They were a lovely congregation and made me feel very welcome at coffee afterwards. The Priest wasn’t too bad at being welcoming either… I guess I have to say that as he’s a friend!

I was thinking about that experience as I attended the Service this morning at St George’s Cathedral here in Jerusalem as well as the Service to close the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity – held at the Greek MelkiteCatholic Patriarch Church. I chose to attend both Services today, just as I chose to attend the Service in Cardiff and the experiences of each of them – apart and together has given me a lot of food for thought as I have been drifting around the streets of Jerusalem. This evening’s Service – at which well over a hundred people were gathered – was conducted predominantly in Arabic. A fulsome Order of Service has been provided – in various languages – and we were even given a translation of the Homily. I have mine here – in English, of course! (How I wish I could speak Arabic, it’s so beautiful to look at and intriguing to listen to.) As I came away from the Service this evening I found myself thinking not only about the language we use to speak in when worshipping, but also the ‘language’ we use to worship God – not the words themselves, but the actions, the expressions of faith, the way we do what we do and how so many say (either aloud or internally) what they do is ‘right’ and what others do is ‘wrong’. I found myself asking if we will ever speak the same ‘language’. Will Christians ever come together as a household of faith and agree on what words to use – agree in heart as well as in words of intent during a Week of Prayer for Christianity? Will the children of Abraham – Muslim and Jew and Christian alike – ever agree in heart that we are children of the same God, that we worship the same God, and that God wills for the good of each person God has created? This ‘good’, which is God’s love, reaches beyond faith alone, it reaches to gender, race, sexuality.

It’s not about what I think or believe is right – and therefore what I (wittingly or unwittingly) imply is ‘wrong’, it’s about what God has asked me to do, asked each person in creation, in fact, to do – and that is to love. As Jesus said, “The first commandment is this, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’” He went on to say, “Love your neighbour as yourself.

If we were to get the first of these two injunctions right – in whatever language, creed or practice we choose – and then work on the second with as much determination then maybe, just maybe, Christians will come together as a household of faith and agree in heart as well as spoken intent, and all the children of Abraham – Muslim and Jew and Christian alike – will agree in heart that we are children of the same God, that we worship the same God, and that God wills for the good of each person God has created. Wouldn’t it be just grand if this came to pass.

A day of a hundred (or so) voices

I have no idea of how many voices I have actually heard today – but it will be somewhere near a good few hundred or so. From breakfast, with a Good Morning called across the room in welcome (with a delightful French accent from the Brothers and Sisters of the two Communities based at St Peter in Gallicantu), to the young boys of the souk competing to see who could yell the loudest in an attempt to drum up custom (in fact, no-one was listening to the boys – except themselves as they smiled and egged each other to yell all the more) and on to Vespers with the Community - said in the Church here.

In between, of course, there were the voices raised in song in the Crypt of the Dormition Abbey, the American who was loudly holding court in the café of Christ Church (proclaiming that Jesus was not a Jew as he was seen as ‘radical’ by the Jews of the time), the quiet murmur of the prayers of the pilgrims as they knelt at the site of the crucifixion (Golgotha), as well as the various people (all men) who wished to ‘assist’ me to find where I was going (at a cost, of course). One of them was Joseph, who loved England but who was born in Jerusalem. He was the most polite of all – even shaking my hand and blessing me as he went on his way. Others asked where I was from, having first caught my attention by calling out ‘Lady!’ I certainly don’t view myself as a lady but, because I automatically think it is someone wishing to tell me I have dropped something or possibly asking for help, usually I turn around. This, alas, gives it away! I shan't be doing this after today. I have also learned today to never sit or stand looking at a guidebook in an open space, always walk everywhere with a look of determination, ever look up at the architecture or down an alleyway with any show of inquisitiveness. It makes for speedy and dull viewing until you realise that this is just how it is here. Everyone is seeking to make a living here, with some barely managing to eke one out at all.

A shopkeeper from whom I purchased fruit and vegetables was only too happy to help me and did not ‘take me for a ride’ in the price he charged – unlike the man in the shop that sold herbs to unsuspecting passers-by who, like me, were called in by the evocative smells… more fool us! Like the owners of the souvenir shops that drip with ‘holy’ items that reflect every possible shade of Christian tradition, I imagine this man must see me as an arrogant westerner who can’t be bothered to learn the language in order to ask for what I required in his native language, Whilst I am vaguely irked for his disdain for me (and I know I deserve it), I also admire him, along with all the traders of the city (as well as the ‘beggars’) for the sheer tenacity which drives them on to learn how to speak Polish, English, German, Spanish – and more – all so that they can better sell their wares or seek a quick shekel.

And then there were the two unexpected Services to close the day. Two and a half weeks into this period of Extended Study Leave (Sabbatical) I realise how out of the loop I am with the pattern of the church year as I noted a poster advertising Services for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. Today's Service was held at St Mark's Convent (Upper Room) Syrian Orthodox Patriarchate – an impossibly difficult place to find! I went along wondering if there would be anyone else there at all - given what a maelstrom of faith this City of Jerusalem is. I couldn’t find it, and had to ask. A kind shopkeeper took pity on me as I poked my neck around a corner – Guidebook in hand open at the map page. I had to turn back the way I had come… but I was not the only one finding it so hard to find. I arrived just moments after the service had started but they was no room in the church itself. I, along with about twenty others, had to stand (or sit if you could find a chair) outside the body of the church in the entrance hall. The Service took place in Arabic, English, French, Armenian and Syriac. What an amazing experience. The singing was so passionate, even though ‘completely foreign’ to me!

Vespers here at St Peter’s came next – all in French. Sung gently by the seven people gathered, with me following the text and seeking to make out what was being sung and read dredging up my schoolbook French. Some I could remember, some I worked out from context and some was just beyond me, but it was fine. I was there. I was present. I was with others who were happy for me to be there with them.

So many voices raised in speech and song throughout the day in a city where so many seek to hear one particular voice speak or sing – the voice of God. Listening is sometimes hard here. Listening is always vital here. Listen.