Put a couple of liberals together and the world is put to rights

What an amazingly thought-provoking forty-eight hours it’s been, with the most intriguing encounter possible taking place on the Temple Mount this afternoon.

I discovered that the Temple Mount is open at present (although only for selected periods of the day) whereas whenever I have visited Jerusalem before, it has always been closed. I joined the queue and made my way up on to an amazing vista. Such space as that can’t be encountered anywhere else in the city. If you look at a map of the city from above, you can see how much ground the Temple Mount covers, but to be up there – in person, as it were, was quite something.

My encounters with some of the Muslims on the Mount varied, from the man who shouted at me, “Not you!” as I vaguely approached the entrance of the Al-Aqsa Mosque (having been able to freely visit Mosques in Istanbul, I knew here would be sensitive, but I wasn’t anticipating being yelled at!) to the women who were more than happy for me to photograph them in their wonderfully colourful clothing as they chatted and passed the time of day and onto the Managers of the Temple Mount who were happy for me to enquire about the provenance of the headscarf the older man was wearing.

At the time I visited, the Mount was open for just an hour, and so there was a sense that time was limited. With my trusty Guidebook, I walked around the Mount – away from the crowds to see what was going on elsewhere. There were boys playing football, people sitting chatting, children crying, young boy is chanting, “Allahu Akbar” – only to be outdone by a group of men who started to call out louder. In addition to one woman I saw praying near the Dome of the Prophet, there were men near the Golden Gate area who seemed to be studying and talking about the Qu’ran. This area is closed off to anyone –including Jesus! According to Jewish tradition, this is the gate through which the Messiah will make his entry into Jerusalem when he comes and so it was blocked up completely by the Muslims in the 16^th Century. (We won’t mention that Christians believe he’s already come once and won’t actually need a gateway when he comes again, shall we…)

Smoking is prohibited on the Temple Mount, as is kissing in addition to showing signs of affection. Visitors are to dress modestly and behave appropriately. I wonder then what would have been made by the encounter I had with a Liberal Jew and the conversation that ensued…

This chap, whose name I never did ask (very rude of me), had drifted into my sightline a few times: I’d noticed him because he was wearing a T-shirt with a small-ish Star of David motif on it. As I was taking a photograph of the Dome of the Ascension, he came over to me and asked if I knew what any of the things were that we were looking at. I explained what the particular feature in front of us was – and that I didn’t know who had ascended from there, but went on to say that Christians believed that Jesus had ascended from the top of the Mount of Olives – and that there is a footprint on the ground (I kid you not!) At this point, the chap asked if I was Christian, to which I said yes, I  asked if he was Jewish – which he was. We walked away from the Dome of the Ascension as there was a woman was obviously getting quite cross at our (non-believer) eyes inspecting this place and who began gesticulated quite clearly that we should get lost!

The conversation that followed ranged through various topics to do with faith, belief, practices, Inter-faith dialogue, clothing, expectation and disappointment of faith communities, how many places in which St Mary is meant to have died (or not, if you believe she was assumed into heaven). The chap was from Toronto, where his father is a Rabbi – also quite Liberal. Apparently the local Cardinal (I think it was a Cardinal!) is a friend and so was recently invited over for a Friday night Shabbat meal. How cool is that?!

At one point I remarked how amazing it was that a Jew and Christian should be standing on the Muslim site of the Temple Mount and having such a conversation. This chap (to whom I really ought to give a name – let’s call his David), so… David said that at his Synagogue, in May, there is to be an evening at which three Doctors of Theology – one Muslim, one Christian and one Jewish (and all women) – are to speak on ‘The things that bring us together and the things that divide’. I commented that I wished I could be there… Toronto in May – that could be possible, maybe?!

What a wonderful encounter… it really made my day! Oh, and the Dome of the Rock is a wonderful place too…

All this has led me further in thinking about whether there needs to be a physical place where God resides, and why it is that I love to visit this land. If Jesus promised to be with us always, and also gave us the Holy Spirit as our Comforter, then is there any need for a ‘place’ at all?

When I attended my Selection Conference for Ordained Ministry, I was asked how I knew there was a God. The chap who asked me seemed to an ‘okay’ person who was genuinely interested in me and my ‘story’ (rather than there being any sense of him being someone who was seeking to trick me) so it felt alright to look him in the eye and say, “I can’t tell you how I know there is a God, but what I can tell you is that I feel it, here in my heart.” It seemed to be enough… but, it is so hard to put into words, isn’t it?! There is a place within me where I know that God resides because I feel it. There is a place within each one of us where God resides. It’s not a place that is in any sense limited or limiting – to us or to God – but it is a place where God lives and God ‘is’.

So, no, I don’t think God does need a ‘place’ in which to reside, although we may need a place to be to become aware of God more fully and deeply and God may choose to reveal God’s self to us in particular ways, times and places. You may have a place already, you may wish to discover one. Look for it, seek it out – what you find may surprise you. Know this too though, the grace of God is within you – a grace that allows for continued exploration and expression, continued questioning and doubt, continued hope and faith, continued growth and transformation.

May your coming day, like mine was today, be filled with surprising encounters – encounters that make you think, that make you wonder, that make you hope, and also that make you glad to be alive.

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.

Trinity 11: Do not be afraid

In the past few days I have spent a lot of time reflecting on the whole notion of fear: what it means, what terms we use - being scared, terrified, ‘be afraid, be very afraid’ – and what makes one experience tip over to a different level of fear?

Last Sunday evening some of you may have watched Dr Who Live – when the actor who is to play the 12^th Dr was revealed. Many of you will, like me, have had the experience as a child, of watching Dr Who from behind hands cupped over your eyes as the Daleks made yet another unwelcome appearance on the scene; this was scary stuff – and I was often afraid.

Some of you will recall the fear I experienced when I was told my father was seriously ill and journeyed with him through his rapid decline towards. Each time I visited him I feared it would be the last – and I still weep when I talk of his last days. They were peaceful, but oh, the aching fear of losing him.

We will each have different experiences of the things that frighten us – and I think one of the hardest things to admit as a Christian is that sometimes we are afraid. We know we aren’t meant to be afraid – because ‘God is with us’ and, ‘Jesus has walked the way before us’. Still though, for many of us there are times when this emotion dominates all. It is my experience, and I imagine it will be so for some of you too.

What do we do then with this disparity of what we feel and what we are apparently told not to feel?

We hear today of God telling Abraham and Jesus telling the disciples not to be afraid. ‘Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.’ ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.’

In context, Abram has already accepted the invitation of God to journey out into the desert. Abram and his wife Sarai have nowhere else to turn – except back, perhaps. They are old though, and they have no children; they have travelled to a different area to their main travelling companion. They are far from home, in the wilderness with no-one to care for them in their advancing years. We, with them, might well ask, ''What hope is there for them?'

It is into this situation of apparent hopelessness that God speaks, ‘Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.’ Now Abram has trusted God already – can he trust him still? Is there enough evidence to testify to the truth of God’s promises upon which to base an on-going trust? The promise of descendants more numerous as the stars I find most moving – and I wonder what Abram made of this. In a nation where the gift of children was so important, this promise of God’s must have been beguiling. Was there evidence enough though to trust God – and overcome the fear of death in a desert, fear of death with no children to follow, fear of appearing foolish to those who might hear of them in years to come?

Evidence is something we all desire, let’s face it – and I don’t imagine Abram was any different, nor the disciples either.

The disciples were told, ‘Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.’ They are told not to be afraid in the face of Jesus inviting them to live a different kind of life, to walk a different pathway and to turn their backs on the ways of the world that demand treasure and glory in this world rather than in the next.

Rather like the way in which Abram had been asked to step out into a different kind of existence from the one he knew, the disciples were being asked to do the same. Giving up their worldly possessions, not relying on the goods and belongings that this world holds as valuable, trusting in God to provide for their needs – this was counter-cultural and demanding. How had Jesus proved himself? What evidence had he given his followers that his word was trustworthy and that the promises he made were ones that could assist them to put their fears aside?

These are the kind of questions so many people in our world ask – and we may well ask them too. What evidence is there? How can I trust when I am not certain or sure? What do I do when I am afraid?

I offer three points to lead to an answer.

Perhaps the first thing to notice is that God notices: God notices Abram is afraid and Jesus notices the fear of the disciples. God gives heed to our experience and faces it head on. God knows Abram must be afraid, Jesus knows the disciples must be afraid: God knows the reality of our existence and knows that there will be times of fear and anxiety. I believe it is empathy with our experience that makes God speak into it.

Secondly, God calls Abram by name and Jesus calls the disciples his little children. The relationship God has with each of us is one based on intimacy – where God knows us and responds in love to our needs. Jesus says, it is the father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom – love and continued blessing is what God desires to give us – always.

Thirdly and, perhaps, most importantly for us who come after – God makes good on his promises. God sticks with it and with us and brings good things to us – in time and in eternity. God doesn’t make the bad things go away, but God walks with us in the “night time of our fear” as we sing in the lovely song, ‘Brother, Sister let me serve you.’ Abram received what was promised to him, and the disciples continued to grow in faith and understanding, as well as being able to perform amazing miracles and teach people amazing things.

So being afraid is real, being frightened is real, being scared is real. The call to not be afraid is not a call to dismiss our fears but rather to let God be in it all, with us – in the messiness and confusion – for it is where he longs to be and where he has promised to be: “Lo, I am with you, even to the end of the age” Jesus said to the disciples – knowing something of what was to come to them as they travelled to share the gospel.

So if you do have times of fear – and I do too – remember these things: God notices you, God knows you, God wills for your good. Things may not change quickly; they may not change much at all – but God is right in there with you, whatever is going on. The reality of our human existence means that fear is part of life – but we do not have to go it alone.

One of my favourite verses is: 1 Corinthians 10:13 No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.

The ‘way out’ for me is living with the knowledge that God loves me – unutterably and beyond measure. It doesn’t mean I am never afraid, rather it means that I trust God is on my side. I pray that, when you are afraid, this is something that you also may be able to believe. Amen.

Christ in ourselves

Some of you will know the hymn, Brother,sister, let me serve you, which goes on to read, Let me be as Christ to you. What exactly does this mean? To find an answer, we need to look in different directions. First we need to look at Christ in ourselves as to how Christ being within us changes us, directs us, compels us.

On Monday evening I spoke of Christ in our world offering compassion, love and forgiveness as his arms are stretched on the cross. Yesterday evening I spoke of Christ in our community – breaking down barriers, inviting humanity to look to the cross as the means of salvation. Compassion, love, forgiveness, barriers broken down so that we can come in, salvation: all these are ours. They inhabit our being when we live knowing and believing and living with Christ in ourselves. As these inhabit our being, they change us, direct us and compel us – towards Christ’s heart and very self and thus towards Christ’s heart and very way.

I referred yesterday evening to Rowan Williams saying. “Mission is finding out what God is doing and joining in”. With due credit to my esteemed colleague, Mr Powell, who gave it to me, I use this quote from D T Niles, who, when speaking of the faith we follow, said “Christianity is one beggar telling another beggar where he found bread”. It goes without saying, we are each beggars. We have each been shown by others where bread is to be found, and we are each called to show still others where they can find it too. This bread – the bread of life – is Christ in us.

Listen to this story from the Second World War (as recorded in the book, 'Sleeping with bread':

During the bombing raids of World War II, thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps where they received food and good care. But, many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. Nothing seemed to reassure them. Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. All through the night the bread reminded them, "Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow."

Christ in ourselves is the gift of bread we have received and Christ in ourselves is the bread we offer. Christ in ourselves means we have been fed and Christ in ourselves means we are ourselves food. Christ in ourselves means we, as the hungry, have received, and Christ in ourselves means we, in turn, offer to feed the hungry.

Rather like the children who could not sleep, and like our ancestors, the Israelites in the desert, who collected quails and manna and trusted that they would be there again, we are given bread – the body of Christ – into our hands and this is life. The bread is placed into our hands; we must place it in the hands of others. We must do this so that they may know and have life – and live in hope for the new day.

Having looked first at how Christ within ourselves changes us, directs us, compels us. The other direction we must look is how Christ within ourselves means we are like Christ in changing others, directing others, compelling others. As we recall, Let me be as Christ to you. This might sound as though we become dictatorial – far from it. The generous, gentle, compassionate heart of God is one that provides and gives and endows – without measure and without end. Christ within ourselves – within you and me – changes others by the manner in which we treat them and speak to them. Christ within ourselves directs others towards a way of seeing, of understanding and of being that offers a new way and a new life.

I know – as we probably each do – that I fall, I fail, I stumble and I get it wrong – this goes without saying – but I go on, because Christ lives within me and he goes on. Christ has sought us out, Christ has chosen to live within us, and Christ longs for the world, like us, to choose him.

As we prepare for the Triduum Sacrum, the Three Holy Days, it is worth remembering that salvation has already been accomplished. We are already saved and we have already been shown where to find the bread of life. As we journey into these holy days, we are Christ-bearers: Christ is in our hands and our hearts. With Christ in ourselves, let us be as Christ is, light to the world. 

Brother, sister, let me serve you,

let me be as Christ to you;

pray that I may have the grace to

let you be my servant too.

We are pilgrims on a journey,

and companions on the road;

we are here to help each other

walk the mile and bear the load.

I will hold the Christ-light for you

in the night-time of your fear;

I will hold my hand out to you,

speak the peace you long to hear.

I will weep when you are weeping;

when you laugh I’ll laugh with you;

I will share your joy and sorrow

till we’ve seen this journey through.

When we sing to God in heaven

we shall find such harmony,

born of all we’ve known together

of Christ’s love and agony.

Brother, sister, let me serve you,

let me be as Christ to you;

pray that I may have the grace to

let you be my servant too.

Richard A. M. Gillard, 1977

The way of faith - Lent 3 2013

We capture today, across all the readings, the reality of some people being in and some people being out. Some are caught up into heaven and eternity whilst other are left far behind – having been found wanting and somehow irredeemable. These are hard things to hear – unless, of course, one is in the business of judging and condemning and living with a sense of being ‘holier than thou’. Righteous condemnation masquerading as righteous indignation, perhaps – and all on God’s behalf because, of course, we can do it so much better than him – all things considered.

If we begin at the beginning, with the reading from Isaiah, the earliest of the texts written, we see that there is an invitation. There is an invitation to drink of the water that money cannot buy. There is a call to change from the current way of living to seek that which is on offer for just a while: Seek the LORD while he may be found, call upon him while he is near; let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts;

            Whether or not the love of God is on offer for just while only is a matter for debate – for God’s time is beyond our own – the call throughout our readings – and through time – is to change the focus from that which is immediately attainable around us every day to that which is also immediately attainable but from which we so often turn our gaze. Let the wicked forsake their way and the unrighteous their thoughts. Who are these wicked? Who are these unrighteous? I guess we might say the members of al-Qaeda who seem so intent on killing those who are not of the Muslim faith. We might also say those who are members of gangs in South London, who carry knives and guns so that they can get ahead of any who stand in their way. We might say the ‘fact cats’ of the financial world who cream of the profits to award themselves fat bonuses.

These may appear to be caricatures, and we may prefer the ways in which Isaiah speaks into the human condition in all the varying ways with which we seek to fill our lives with meaning: work, food, money. However, how ever nicely we dress these things up – the fear that we will never have enough, that others will have more than us, that we will not be good enough in whoever’s sight is held to be the most powerful on that given day – how ever we dress these things up, they are as nothing compared to the hope that we may have in God.

Alas, the apparently meaningful preoccupations and self-preoccupations that are preferred by so many are, ultimately, meaningless. This is something that the writer of the Book of Ecclesiastes knew all too well. If we read the opening of his Book: “Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.” The only thing that has meaning is God’s love and God’s supreme power. We may look for other things, we may gain other things, but it is the love of God that is over and above them all.

So what difference does knowing this make then? You are here, I am here, and we get it already – right? Perhaps so, but the reading we heard from Corinthians makes salutary reading if we think we have it all sown up. As we read: I do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, that our ancestors were all under the cloud… all passed through the sea… all were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea, ³and all ate the same spiritual food, ⁴and all drank the same spiritual drink… they drank from the spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was Christ. ⁵Nevertheless, God was not pleased with most of them, and they were struck down in the wilderness. They did things right, it seemed… and yet, God was not pleased with most of them. It’s like saying to a child after Parent’s Evening: Your teacher said you are doing really well, but you could try harder. Well, almost like it, I imagine!

We catch some glimpse of what has gone wrong: ⁶Now these things occurred as examples for us, so that we might not desire evil as they did. ⁷Do not become idolaters… ⁸We must not indulge in sexual immorality… ⁹We must not put Christ to the test… ¹⁰And do not complain…” What sad examples for humanity, for so many of us walk so close to these very things as well.

The reason for recording them though: ‘¹¹These things happened to them to serve as an example…’ There are things that will come to try us, there are things that will lure us away for a while, there are things that we may prefer sometimes. If this is so, we are warned fully here:  ‘¹²So if you think you are standing, watch out that you do not fall.’

I preached a fortnight ago about observing Lent. For the first time in a long time, I have given up something for Lent – and it is proving to be hard work. I have taken things on too – and these are proving just as hard. Lent is nothing though compared to the whole Christian life – a way of being that is actually about giving up many things. It is about refining ourselves with the grace and power and love of God so that we will not be like those who followed but fell, like those who believed but whose faith was not enough. Lent, as with the whole of life of faith, is a time of testing, though Lent may be more about proving to ourselves that we can do it than to God: we test ourselves in a simpler fashion – or not – to remind ourselves of the greater, longer, test upon which we are all embarked: the test of being found fit for heaven. Do we carry knives or guns? Probably not. Are we members of al-Qaeda, intent on killing those who do not follow the faith we follow? Probably not, but the history of Christianity is pretty bloody, when we face it. Do we take vast Bonuses on top of our Salary or Pension. This one might sit rather closer to home for some who worship here or in other churches near here.

‘Judge not less ye be judged’ is a good maxim to live by – but sometimes we fail to judge just ourselves. These are hard words to hear, and I know colleagues who are preaching today who have also found this message to be unpalatable. Judgement is not just about condemnation though – it is about being honest. It is about discovering where we fall short and letting ourselves be honed and made pure and lovely for God. Paul writes: ‘¹³No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it.’ The question is always, do we believe this? Do we believe that God is not only our judge but also our great reward? If we do, then we are blessed beyond belief – and the challenge and the test is to remain close to God’s ways. If we do not believe – or we fear the judgement more than we hope – then the promise Isaiah heard is the first thing to reach and out grasp to ourselves: ‘I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David.’ Let God love you fully, with abandonment and without reserve, so that you might do the same to him.