Pentecost 2012 at both churches

Some years ago, a book was published entitled “Living the Trinity”

Its basic premise was that, though a healthy church should reflect the life of each person of the Trinity, a number of churches tended to emphasise one or another at the expense of the third...

Think about it, for a moment.

There are churches whose main emphasis is on the holiness of God.

They may well be churches where traditional worship is very important, where awe and wonder are central to the experience of encountering God, where decency, order and history are much valued.

Perhaps they are laying their main stress on God the Father – the creator robed in majesty.

Others may seem to reflect more the servant ministry of Christ. They have a focus on the world outside the church doors, and may be active in community work while striving to welcome all comers to worship and to change them from church-goers into disciples, people learning what it means to live like Jesus today.

Then there are those churches whose main emphasis is the life-giving power of the Holy Spirit.

They may sit light to tradition, being ready to adapt and change in response to the Spirit's leading...

They may not use standard liturgies at all – and they may be very comfortable with the charismatic gifts that the disciples first received on the day of Pentecost, but which are still available to work transformation on the church today.

Of course these sketches are generalisations – never the whole story...and remember, a healthy church needs to reflect the fullness of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit – though I'm not sure we always manage this.

I can't help but wonder how well balanced we are at St M's/All Saints.

I wonder, particularly on this feast of the Holy Spirit, how easy we find it to leave room for the Spirit's work...for we are, on the whole, quite comfortable with the way things are...and the Holy Spirit is so often the spirit of challenge and change.

Of course, the feast of Pentecost is very much about communication.

The Spirit descends on the disciples, transforming them in an instant from terrified fugitives huddled together for mutual support, to apostles ready to take on the world for the sake of the Kingdom. And as the Spirit descends, that uneducated riff raff from Galilee is suddenly a college of eloquent, compelling preachers....MULTI LINGUAL preachers at that.

So the Spirit does not just challenge – but empowers and equips as well.

Suddenly the apostles find themselves inspired AND enabled to share good news they had hardly dared to believe for themselves.

They are given the gifts they need in order to share with people quite unlike themselves, people they would not normally understand, or be understood by...and brimming over with the joy of their encounter with God at work, they set out to do just that.

God the Holy Spirit will do anything to get the message across, speak any language...of head, heart or mind, in order to reach us.

It's true enough here in this benefice.

Think of All Saints....the building

People are drawn here from across the world by its reputation for beauty and craftmanship.

It exists to speak of a beauty beyond the skill of the greatest artist, a beauty beyond our most eloquent words.

And for 150 years as God's people have gathered within the walls, they have encountered their Father...and, we pray, gone away changed by that encounter, to serve Him in the world.

It's what the Church is about.

Encounter, transformation and loving service.

The language of our building speaks loud and clear to many...

Perhaps it was the way in which the Holy Spirit first spoke to you....

Or perhaps the Spirit spoke through music, or family, friendship, or the glories of larksong on the Common on a May morning.

Remember, the great Communicator will stop at nothing to get the message of Love across – for this is the most important message than anyone will ever hear...the message that changes lives forever.

However the Spirit spoke, whether you know it or not, you are here because you heard and responded.

Responded – yes, once, when the Spirit first spoke to you...but listen... she is still speaking today.

Her words may not always be welcome for this is the Spirit of challenge and change...

The living Spirit of God, that is as real and present in the world today as ever she was at Pentecost.

I wonder what language she is using to reach you now, and how you might best open yourself to hear.

I suspect that often we forget to factor God's Spirit into our equations, our life plans, our tidy little solutions to the problem of being human.

We say, week on week, that “we believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of life” but behave as if that Spirit has been absent or silent since the first Pentecost...

Or we pay lip service to the Spirit's presence, but continue to arrange our lives in such a way that there is no flexibility, no room to respond to that message of life-giving transformation that once gripped the disciples in the Upper Room. We come to church, sing the hymns and say our prayers, but expect almost nothing – but this is the Spirit of the LIVING GOD, who is always a God of surprises.

Let me tell you a story – a personal one, from only a few weeks ago, though its roots lie way back in my teens.

Back in those days I was, it seemed, the one member of the school's CU who did NOT receive any perceptible gifts of the Spirit at a period when to speak in tongues seemed to be the only acceptable criterion by which faith was judged.
At the time, after a long and anxious conversation with God on the bus home from school I accepted that for me "Blessed are those who have not seen but yet believe" was to be the motto and continued on my journey of faith with only a faint twinge of envy.
It meant that through the next 3 decades I tended to avoid churches where “that sort of thing went on”, because, quite honestly, it would have hurt too much if nothing noticeable had happened to me
That, of course, didn't mean that I didn't have some very powerful experiences of God's presence at various points along the way....but I used different language to describe them. I tended to talk more of my relationship with God, and less about the work of the Holy Spirit - though every year at Pentecost I would find myself praying with all that was in me for something amazing to happen, NOW, this INSTANT, to transform me and my churches.
It didn't seem as if anything much changed - but I've been praying for long enough on so many different topics that I've gradually accepted that prayer really isn't a slot machine.
Nonetheless, it did hurt a bit.
Maybe God didn't love me QUITE as much as he loved some of those others?
In my heart of hearts I knew that was nonsense, but nonetheless....
So I plugged on, working as hard as I possibly could to be a good priest, loving my people and praying for them as best I could, but recognising that there wasn't going to be a miraculous turn-around in the life of my parishes if it depended on me.
Then, as part of my professional development programme, I found myself at a conference for charismatic catholic Anglicans.

Not somewhere I would ever have expected to be..but still and all, I was there, and the talk was all of the work of the Holy Spirit – with was plenty of evidence to suggest that this was more than just talk.
So, almost despite myself, I took a deep breath and decided to run the risk that once again I might not be "chosen" to be blessed?
And very gently, God acted.

I, the non charismatic, who had been too fearful to lose myself in God, found myself experiencing not the gift of tongues but, still more startling, the amazing reality of trusting God completely, of letting go of everything – and finding myself literally bowled over...and awash with wonder, love and praise.

So listen, PLEASE listen...for the Spirit is still speaking...to the churches and to you.

Listen, and remember, this IS the Spirit who gives life, the Spirit who is the agent of God's transformation, the Spirit who can help us to negotiate change and to grow in ways that we would never have imagined.

All we have to do is to open ourselves to Her work...to let go of our fears and our prejudices and join in the creative loving dance of the Trinity, a dance that will continue til everything that has breath is drawn in to share that Love in which we live and move and have our being.

The REAL Lord's Prayer? homily for 8.00 Easter 7B

The Lord's Prayer

That's how we describe the prayer that Jesus taught us...the one he offered when his disciples asked him how they ought to pray.

But in our gospel today we are allowed to eavesdrop on the Lord's prayer that he offers himself – the REAL Lord's prayer, if you like...the words that pass between Father and Son as Jesus prepares to leave the world, as, indeed, he prepares to die.

Time and again I find myself thinking, as I visit someone close to the end of their life-journey

"There's no room for pretence now...This is a time of relentless honesty, a time when we get to see what really matters, who are the real priorities"

And at this time in Jesus' earthly life who does he choose to pray for?

He prays for US

His disciples and all who would believe in him through their words.

The Church with all her aspirations and all her brokenness.

Here, as we listen to this outpouring from Son to Father, we glimpse ourselves as his Love sees us.

Although gospel writers, commentators, and preachers like to present the disciples as clueless and bumbling, we hear Jesus affirm them ("they know in truth that I came from you").

We hear him lift them up ("they do not belong to the world"), and tell us they were worthy companions on his journey ("they have kept your word").

More...they and we are his GLORY...

“I have been glorified in them”

We may offer but the poorest reflection of Christ's righteousness and holiness, we may be dull, disobedient, slow to love but for all that, we are his glory.

This prayer of Jesus is very much about his followers today - it is not just limited to his first century disciples. We still need protection from the evil one, and sanctification for the work we do in the world. In our struggle to preach Christ crucified in a society blinded by material wealth at any cost and enamoured with creature comforts, it is this kind of prayer on our behalf that invokes the Holy Spirit. When we hear Jesus pray this prayer for us, it is a foretaste of the feast of Pentecost, a sampling of the clothing of power from on high...and goodness, we need that power.

While on retreat before my priesting, I was invited to read this prayer and imagine Jesus replacing every reference to the disciples with my own name.

It turned out to be one of the most powerful exercises I've ever undertaken.

“I am coming to you and I speak these things to you so that Kathryn...Mary...Eira...may have my joy made complete in her....”

When Jesus is alone with his Father – he talks about US...and longs for us to be filled with joy. 

How good is that"

To know that Christ prayed for "me" gives us strength when we thought we were exhausted, success when we believed ourselves failures, and vision to see transformation where it seemed that none was possible

On Thursday as we celebrated Ascension we remembered that for all our inadequacies, WE are the ones to whom Jesus entrusted his mission in the world. There is no “Plan B”...

Today we see that though he prays for our protection from the world, he does not want to remove us from it but sends us out to get on with that insistent God given task of loving the world into the Kingdom. 

This is not just the “real” Lord's Prayer but the ultimate Eucharistic Prayer...a prayer in which Jesus consecrates not bread and wine but his very self, drawing together in unity all that his Father has given him into unity and sending them, sending US, forth into the world.

Dare we, as we listen to this prayer, offer a heart-felt “Amen”?

Christmas backwards!

That was the way with which I began our exploration of Ascension at the Valley Church School's service this morning. 
The children were wonderful, attempting to read and then interpret "SAMTSIRHC" until someone tumbled to the fact that it might just be a real word in reverse...and we talked about whether at Ascension God took back the gift he had given when Jesus came to earth.
You won't be surprised to hear that I told them he hadn't...but I wanted to share with you what happened next.
The children are very familiar with the idea that Christ is the light of the world...Whenever we light their big worship candle in school we say 
"God said" "LET THERE BE LIGHT": Jesus said "I AM THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD"
so we talked about the way that the Paschal candle had represented that light for us ever since we lit it in the dark of Holy Saturday night...
Then I took it from its stand and hid it...but the children knew it was still alight.
Finally I used a snuffer and invited them to watch carefully as I "changed the light" *
It was amazing.
The smoke continued for almost a minute, pouring from the wick, dancing and wreathing the altar ...The children followed it with their eyes and were very ready to accept that the light was now transformed into something that was everywhere, something that was within them....
We prayed then I sent them out to get on with carrying Christ's love and joy to the world...
As they went, class by class, we sang "You shall go out with joy" and it was truly wonderful.


One of those days when I can really feel how blessed I am to work in this community.




*a Godly Play idea which I first met when preparing the Godly Play Baptism lesson

Love in action - a sermon on John 15 for Christian Aid week

Much of this material comes from the resources provided by Christian Aid. The story of the community of Gbap is as re-told by Revd Anne le Bas on the PRCL lists, and as so often I'm inspired by her words.

It's that time of year again.

The time of year when you find yourself feverishly cudgelling your brains to remember which is the smallest state in Australia;

when teddy bears abseiling down church towers become almost commonplace;

when more than 200,000 people wander around their neighbourhoods posting bright red envelopes through every door – and even have the courage to go back later in the hope that they may have been filled with money.

Christian Aid emerged from the rubble of post-war Europe and has been making a difference to the poorest communities ever since.

Why?

Well, of course, the clue is here in this morning's gospel, as we hear more of Jesus's great farewell speech.

I wonder what the disciples made of it.

Did they realise that all this talk about of love and of fruitfulness was part of a long goodbye...preparation for the moment when Jesus would hand on the baton to them and leave them with the task of loving the world into God's kingdom?

I very much doubt if they did.

Mostly, I expect, they were baffled as usual, distracted by speculation as to what kind of fruit lasted beyond its normal season, indignant that as free men anyone might ever consider them servants, brought up short by the suggestion that friendship might involve personal cost

No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends

Did they imagine, for a moment, what “to love one another as I have loved you” might actually mean?

The scope of the love on offer?

The meaning of the lesson in progress?

Every teacher knows the delight of working themselves out of a job, of recognising that the student has fully embraced all they were being taught...

The greatest teacher of all time is about to put his own skills to the test...

We read with the perfect perspective of hindsight but for the disciples – literally students- Jesus had not yet progressed from “do what I say” to “do what I do” as he became a parable himself, dying and rising to show what LOVE really means.

Jesus knows that if his followers look to him to supply the answers forever, they will never be able to exercise the ministry they are meant for. He doesn’t want the distorted relationship of a master and servants, based on a power dynamic that stacks the cards against the weak . He wants them to learn to trust themselves, so that they can act boldly with their own initiative. God has been incarnate – made flesh – in Jesus. Now Jesus, the Word of God, invites them, invites US,to something new...He will not tell us what to say, put words into our mouths, but instead helps us to find our own God-given voice, to be words of God ourselves. We, like the twelve, are to live out the incarnation by becoming God's love in action.

So what?

Can we hear today's gospel and then go home unchanged to a Sunday roast and a glass of sherry?

That call to love in action MUST make a difference...and Christian Aid week gives us the opportunity both to see love at work and to join in.

Let me tell you a story.

Come with me, if you will, all the way to Sierra Leone on the West African coast.

The region was once a centre of the transatlantic slave trade, with slaves being shipped from its ports. When slaves began to gain their freedom some returned to Africa, supported by white British philanthropists. But most had no idea where their ancestors had come from and no way of returning to their roots. So a colony was formed in the early 19th Century , arbitrarily carved out of what seemed to be spare land and
groups of slaves were settled there, regardless of where their ancestors
might actually have hailed from. It might have seemed like a good idea at
the time, but it was riven with problems. There were bitter conflicts with
the existing population of the land. There were no natural connections
within the new population. The new settlement was heavily dependent on
British protection and soon it simply became an outpost of the expanding
British Empire. It was a prime spot, a gateway into a continent that was
increasingly being exploited for its rich natural resources. Independence
didn’t finally come until 1961 but it is no surprise that even after that it
has been a very rough ride. This is a nation which was built on the rubble
of slavery – the ultimate distorted relationship - and then pushed around by
nations with agendas of their own ever since.

No wonder it has been hard for it to establish its own identity, find its
own dignity and exercise its own power wisely. Eventually it erupted into
bitter civil war in the 1990’s which lasted over a decade and left the
country in ruins.

That’s the backdrop to the work Christian Aid is doing, supporting those who
are trying to re-establish themselves in villages that have been razed to
the ground, on farmland that’s been abandoned and reverted to nature, with
infrastructure that has been destroyed. Sierra Leone’s people are great
survivors. Simply to have got through these tough times and still have the
urge to try again shows that. They are full of ingenuity, enterprise and
energy. What they have lacked though, are the basic tools for rebuilding.
One in five families doesn’t even have enough to eat – the most fundamental
necessity. It’s like being expected to climb Mount Everest in bare feet.
And that’s where Christian Aid and its partner organisations have come in.

The particular project whose story Christian Aid is telling this week is in
a village called Gbap (pronounced Bap). One woman there, Mary Samuel, put
its problems in a nutshell..  “If we had food today,” Mary said, “what would
we eat the next day?” There was nothing to rely on, no certainty about the
future. But things have changed for her since the Methodist Church of Sierra
Leone, which is supported by Christian Aid, came to their tow. It encouraged
the people of Gbap to set up a village development committee so that they
could decide for themselves what they needed to do. It was a simple thing,
but through it the people of Gbap were given a voice.

They decided to set up a food production group. With the Church’s
assistance, they distributed seeds and tools to local farmers. They trained
them in more effective agricultural practices, so that they could cultivate
the floodplain outside the town and develop a rice farm and a cassava plot.
They negotiated the loan of a tractor, and that meant they could plough more
land and produce more food.
Inspired by this, one thing led to another. They are now building an work
centre to house a cassava-grater and rice-thresher – vital machines that
will help them process their raw produce into something that will sell for a
higher price at the market. And they have built a new school – a long overdue replacement for the crumbling building they had before, which was so unsafe that many parents
refused to send their children there.

Christian Aid believes that poverty is, at its heart, an issue of power. And in their approach to development, we try to avoid models of ‘donor and beneficiary’, to work instead as equal partners,  friends sharing power together. 

This year, the people of Gbap have been empowered to take their future into their own hands to speak out for change and look towards a better future. And in hearing their story, we too can be changed. Mary Samuel looks at the changes to her village and comments: ‘Today we are
seeing something which has come from us.” That’s what’s made the
difference. The people of Gbap have learned to see themselves not as pawns
in the games played by national and international forces beyond their power
to influence, but as people who can take their own future into their own
hands and do something about it.

Not servants but friends...equal partners in the work of loving the world into God's kingdom.

Let's join in too.

Will you pray with me now?

Gracious God, who bids us to love one another

May we listen to the voices of all who speak out for a more loving world.

Inspire us to gifts of love and friendship;

Sustain us when we stand together for change

and transform our offerings

so that we may become part of the miracle of your Love.

Bless the gifts that we offer

Bless the work we will do

And bless all who bear witness

to our support for your people on the edge

Bless all our endeavours

and our small contributions

and transform them into fruit that endures.

God is greater than our hearts; 8.00 homily for St Matthew's

 Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action. 19And by this we will know that we are from the truth and will reassure our hearts before him20whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.

Do you know Uncle George?

My guess is that even if you've not encountered him under that name, you may at least have heard of him, and he may indeed be a familiar companion. The Jesuit writer Gerard Hughes introduces him in his 1980s best seller on spirituality, God of Surprises....for Uncle George represents one of the false images of God that tends to lurk at the back of our minds. What do you think?

God was a family relative, much admired by Mum and Dad, who described him as very loving, a great friend of the family, very powerful and interested in all of us. Eventually we are taken to visit ‘Good Old Uncle George’. He lives in a formidable mansion, is bearded, gruff and threatening. We cannot share our parents’ professed admiration for this jewel in the family. At the end of the visit. Uncle George turns to address us.
‘Now listen, dear,’ he begins, looking very severe, ‘I want to see you here once a week, and if you fail to come, let me just show you what will happen to you.’ He then leads us down to the mansion’s basement. It is dark, becomes hotter and hotter as we descend, and we begin to hear unearthly screams. In the basement there are steel doors. Uncle George opens one.
‘Now look there, dear,’ he says. We see a nightmare vision, an array of blazing furnaces with little demons in attendance, who hurl into the blaze those men, women and children who failed to visit Uncle George or to act in a way he approved.
‘And if you don’t visit me, dear, that is where you will most certainly go,’ says Uncle George. He then takes us upstairs again to meet Mum and Dad. As we go home, tightly clutching Dad with one hand and Mum with the other. Mum leans over us and says, ‘And now don’t you love Uncle George with all your heart and soul, mind and strength?’ And we, loathing the monster, say, ‘Yes, I do,’ because to say anything else would be to join the queue at the furnace.

Is that familiar at all?

However much we may say with great confidence “God is love...” in my experience there is a little voice that adds “But even God doesn't love me that much – because I'm just not good enough.”

It's true, of course, that God knows us through and through....He knows the gifts that we struggle to acknowledge (have you noticed how much harder it is to accept compliments than criticism, that admitting that we are really good at something can tie us in great knots of false modesty and discomfort) and He knows those nasty, niggling, secret failings that we'd prefer not to own even to ourselves.

There's absolutely nothing that we can hide from God...because there is nowhere that God is not present.

And if we were to judge in purely human terms – then failure and condemnation might well be the end result. One of the dangers of the life of faith is that, setting before ourselves the great example of the life of Christ, and of the commandment to love, we are particularly conscious of our brokenness...Somehow it seems holier to think of ourselves as miserable sinners, and to stay in a dusty corner on our knees, than to stand erect as God's forgiven children, rejoicing that He calls us to life in all its fulness.

But to do that is to sidestep the wonder of God's grace...grace poured out for us in reckless abandon,

grace that floods the world, and can permeate even the depths of our being -yours AND mine – if we're willing to allow that.

You'll know, of course, that during baptism we pour water over the head of the candidate....water that represents Christ's action in washing away our sin, water that reminds us that we die with Christ to share His resurrection...but water that represents, too, that boundless tide of grace. A long time ago now I baptised D, a lively three year old who had strong views about the indignities that were being heaped upon him as he stood in smart clothes, and had oil smeared on his head not just by the curate but by parents and godparents to boot. D did not accept this quietly...indeed I pretty much had to pin him against a pillar in order to mark him with the cross...but when we got to the font it was a different matter. D loved water...he loved his bath, he loved to swim, and he wasn't going to waste the opportunity for some joyful play...so as we stood he began to splash...he splashed til I was rather more than damp...he splashed til mum, Dad & godparents were dripping...he splashed til practically everyone there was sharing in his baptism........

And you know, he had the right idea.

We tend to behave as if God's grace is limited to the nice polite little dribbles that trickle over a baby's head from a delicate scallop shell...but in fact it's a tsunami, that can and should sweep us off our feet, transforming the whole landscape of our lives til we're not sure if we are on our head or on our heels...til all we are sure of is that we are profoundly loved and need never be afraid.

That is the message that God wants us to carry with us.

We are profoundly loved and need never be afraid.

That is the message of God's grace that speaks into our hearts, to silence forever the sinister rumblings of “Uncle George” and that still more insidious voice of our own that says,

“You fail...Try harder or God won't love you”

Do you know, we have nothing to prove – for God loves us unconditionally

Yes, we are called to love – in deed and in truth...

Yes, we will fail at this, again and again.

But there is grace enough to cover our every failing, grace enough to bring us home singing

Even though our hearts condemn us, God is greater than our hearts.

Thanks be to God!

Friday Five; Sacraments... all is holy?

I've not played Friday Five for months, but Sally's questions today played so wonderfully into my experience at "On Fire" that I couldn't resist...

This Friday Five stems from some questions that have been running around my head and heart recently and are squeezing their way out through my blog here and again here

So I'd like to ask you some simple questions about the sacraments:

1. What does the Lord's supper/ Eucharist mean to you?

Pretty much everything!
To know that God loves us so much that He trusts us with Himself in that fragment of bread and sip of wine...to know that as we eat we are transformed by the life of God within us, that this food makes US part of HIM, rather than becoming, like other foods, part of us...

that as we bring our broken, hurting selves to kneel, offering all that we can, we receive in exchange God's own self...

to recognise that as we gather at the altar we do so with the whole Communion of Saints, those "with whom in the Lord Jesus we forever more are one"

2. How important is preparation for this, and what form does it take? 

As a priest in a busy parish, preparation is too often a matter of sorting out crises with the rotas, ensuring that there is someone to act as crucifer, that the intercessor of the day is both present AND aware that Mrs X has died...this means that I come upon the heart of the Sacrament almost unexpectedly...am dependent on the provision of the liturgy to do my preparation for me. Thankfully it does this well (after all, it's what it's designed for) but nonetheless, the difference in the experience when I was able to spend time this past week specifically and consciously preparing was, to put it mildly, mind-blowing.

3. What does baptism mean to you?

For me, baptism is our very first response to the overwhelming love of God in which we live and move and have our being. Sometimes, we seem not to move beyond that first step...but baptism, if you like, gives us a passport that we can present at any time in our lives. Too often in my current context I know that families have no expectation that baptism will change anything in terms of their way of life, that there's almost no chance of my re-encountering the babies I baptise by the dozen  before they turn up 5 years later in Reception class ...and sometimes that makes me anxious. But since Baptism is above all an out-pouring of God's grace, I continue to ignore that anxiety, knowing that it's His gift to those children...and that one day He will enable them to enjoy it.

4. How important is preparation for baptism and what form does it take?

I've a rather schizophrenic approach here. Given the low expectations of most baptism families, I do try hard to help them recognise what a big step this is...we watch a DVD together, I talk about a two-way "contract" and ask them to tell me how the Church can help them to keep their part of the bargain, as a way of fulfilling ours

(People of God, will you welcome this child and uphold her in her new life in Christ?)...but I think that is really just to salve my conscience...I know I'd not refuse baptism to anyone, regardless of lack of preparation, because it is so much about God's action...God's gift...so in the end, preparation becomes irrelevant.

5. A quote/ poem/ song that brings you before God in a sacramental way, and helps you to engage at  a deeper level

Well, surprise, surprise...it's George Herbert again :) This is at the heart of my faith, and at the heart of my Sacramental theology, so I make no apology for returning to it.

  Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,

 Guilty of dust and sin.
 But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
 From my first entrance in,
 Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
 If I lack'd anything.

 "A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
 Love said, "You shall be he."
 "I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
 I cannot look on thee."
 Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
 "Who made the eyes but I?"

 "Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
 Go where it doth deserve."
 "And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
 "My dear, then I will serve."
 "You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat." 

 So I did sit and eat

God of surprises

If you've been reading here for a while, you'll know that I've always been rather wary of the charismatic movement.
As a teenager, I was, it seemed, the one member of the school's CU who did NOT receive any perceptible gifts of the Spirit at a period when to speak in tongues seemed to be the only acceptable criterion by which faith was judged.
At the time, after a long and anxious conversation with God on the bus home from school I accepted that for me "Blessed are those who have not seen but yet believe" was to be the motto and continued on my journey of faith with only a faint twinge of envy.
It did mean, though, that I tended to avoid experiences of charismatic renewal through the years. As a singer absolutely at home in the Anglican choral tradition, and with strongly catholic leanings in both theology and practice this wasn't too difficult. I heard rumours occasionally of charismatic happenings at places like Walsingham, (but certainly not at All Saints, Margaret Street!) but when I left university and embarked on the "real world" my opportunities for pilgrimage there were increasingly limited, and as I began exploring my own priestly vocation it seemed that the door to the Shrine there was now firmly closed to me.
I decided that while charismatic renewal was obviously a wonderful thing, there must be some good reason why God didn't want me to experience it - and mostly kept well away from situations in which I might have encountered it because, quite honestly, it would have hurt too much if nothing had happened.


That, of course, didn't mean that I didn't have some very powerful experiences of God's presence at various points along the way....but I used different language to describe them. I tended to talk more of my relationship with God, and less about the work of the Holy Spirit - though every year at Pentecost I would find myself praying with all that was in me for something amazing to happen, NOW, this INSTANT, to transform me and my churches.


It didn't seem as if anything much changed - but I've been praying for long enough on so many different topics that I've gradually accepted that prayer really isn't a slot machine.
Nonetheless, it did hurt a bit.
Maybe God didn't love me QUITE as much as he loved some of those others?
In my heart of hearts I knew that was nonsense, but nonetheless....


So I plugged on, working as hard as I possibly could to be a good priest, loving my people and praying for them as best I could, but recognising that there wasn't going to be a miraculous turn-around in the life of my parishes if it depended on me.


Then last year came my episcopal review - something that happens every three years, and which involves both looking back and exploring visions for the future.Mine was in early February, when the memory of a particularly discouraging Christmas was still fresh in my mind, and I told my reviewer that I suspected nothing I could do would have a real impact on the life of my churches...that we were growing infinitesimally,that though new initiatives were emerging, most of them seemed to be quite dependent on my energy....that actually, only 3 years in, I was pretty weary and I couldn't see how things would change. 
Clutching at straws, it seemed, I wondered if going to one of the Holy Spirit days offered by HTB might be something to consider - but instead my reviewer said firmly
"If I were you, I'd try "On Fire".


On Fire? Never heard of it...so rushed home to google and found this
Hmnn
Not convinced, I asked on twitter, where a friend was able to tell me quite alot more and was warmly encouraging about my attendance, promising that she'd go again if I booked.
When my "objectives" from the review turned up a couple of weeks later, attending "On Fire" seemed to be written in - so I really had no option - and was glad when another dear friend announced that he was willing to give it a try this year.


So there we were on Monday, arriving at High Leigh - which I'd last visited for a diocesan conference some 12 years ago, I'd guess. The personnel were pretty typical of most Christian gatherings. 
Lots of grey hair, lots of kind faces...
Did we REALLY want to be here?
Even to hear Philip Yancey?
I wasn't convinced....though glad to have 3 days to spend "irl" with online friends.
As the music group gathered for the opening worship I was even LESS convinced (remember that bit about English choral tradition? it's still the music that most feeds my soul) but once the Mass started I realised I might have to adjust my ideas a little.


And that, really, is what happened this week.


Amid a most wonderful blend of deeply familiar, utterly essential, sacramental worship I found myself encountering God in new ways...
Despite my huge resistance to the music in particular, but to other elements as well.
Could I really trust this community, run the risk that once again I might not be "chosen" to be blessed?
Despite all this, God acted.
Very gently at first - with a reminder that I HAD indeed received the Holy Spirit before, - most specifically at my ordination. I found that my hands remembered very well the cross that was traced on their palms as I was anointed at my priesting - and that that tangible reminder stayed with me, positively zinging with life for the rest of that day...that suddenly EVERYTHING was more alive...
What are the sacraments, if not charismatic in themselves?
Don't I call down the Holy Spirit whenever I baptise, or preside at the Eucharist?
Perhaps I've always been a "charismatic catholic" without knowing it....
Before I left home, another twitter friend had suggested that I might find On Fire a place to meet an old friend in a new context - and that was so much my experience, as God reassured me that, actually, this wasn't new and foreign ground.


But, you know, as people around me were being prayed for and falling over, I was praying rather urgently something like this:
"You know... I really NEED something to happen...but PLEASE not falling over. I'm scared enough as it is. PLEASE......."
So at that time, in that place, I did indeed remain on my feet - full of warmth and joy, unable for a few minutes to open my eyes, but decisively upright.


Later it was a different matter.


This was after another wonderful Eucharist - and the whole room was chock full of love and prayerfulness...so I dared to go forward for prayer again.
This time God reminded me of something I need to hear pretty much every minute of every day.
I DON'T HAVE TO PROVE ANYTHING.
If I did counted cross-stitch, that might be the text of my next sampler as it's a message I'm peculiarly bad at hearing or believing - but the other message, that God really can be trusted, I found myself learning without any effort at all as after some rather beautiful prayer, I woke up to find myself gazing at the ceiling - and more full of love and joy than my being really had room for.


No, I don't understand any of it.
I don't understand why the Spirit moves so powerfully in some contexts when at other times, despite fervent prayer, nothing much seems to happen.
I don't understand WHAT happened, except in terms of realising that I could trust God to catch me however I might happen to fall, and that letting go completely can be gift rather than loss.
I don't know how my experience of joy and blessing may impact on how I minister from now on.
I just know that I've found a new place and a new way in which to be loved by God...a way in which the precious Sacrament that is at the heart of my faith and my priesthood ministers to me in ways of grace and beauty that I hadn't imagined.


But (because, you know, Aslan is not a tame lion) I still don't speak in tongues - but I rather think my conversation with God has changed gear anyway.

With thanks to friends & colleagues from the PRCL list, particularly Kathy Donley, for the story of the novice preacher.

You are witnesses of these things

That's what Jesus says to his disciples, as he meets them in their fear and confusion in those extraordinary days after the Resurrection.

You are witnesses

so let's think about that whole calling to witness, handed down from that little group in 1^st century Jerusalem to us in St M's this morning.

A witness, according to wikipedia is

“someone who has, or claims to have, knowledge relevant to an event or other matter of interest”

And more

“Witness are usually only permitted to testify to what they have experienced first hand.”

So to just what are the disciples witnesses...?

First, and most dramatically, to the presence of the risen Christ among them.

He appears suddenly unlooked for, unannounced,THERE in their place of doubt and uncertainty, there with his message “Peace be with you”

PEACE

Peace?!?

When the last they'd seen of him was a pale, lifeless body laid to rest in Joseph of Arimathea's garden tomb, to be invited to touch the still-raw wounds of the living dead does not seem like a recipe for peace to me...

I'm with the disciples who assumed, quite rationally, that Jesus MUST be a ghost, and it seems somewhat unfair that he should ask them why they are frightened.

They've dealt with the terrifying events of Holy Week, have no idea whether or when the soldiers may come for them – and now they are expected to rejoice at an apparition that seems entirely contrary to anything that makes sense in their world.

But this is Jesus – and even as they panic, they are filled with joy – maybe not quite enough to quell all doubts but nonetheless joy...Something wonderful is happening here, even if they do not yet understand it.

And then Jesus proves his physical reality by eating a piece of fish...his is a real body, with real needs...ghosts do not, cannot eat.

This is JESUS – with them in all the wonder of his resurrected body

Once this has been confirmed, he begins to teach them, just as he has all along.

Once more he unpacks for them the meaning of Scripture, shows them the path of salvation history leading to that time, that place, these people...

He “opens their minds to understand the Scriptures” and at last everything falls into place.

All that has happened had always been meant to happen

Good Friday was not a day of unmitigated disaster but the ultimate revelation of God's boundless love – and now they see with their own eyes the wonder of the resurrection.

“You are witnesses of these things”

More, they are witnesses to the sheer joy of knowing themselves forgiven...

I'm sure that each of them in that upper room was all too conscious of his failures, of courage, loyalty and love...each of them must have repented 1000 times as they watched Jesus die on the cross...and now they receive forgiveness and the peace that he promised.

And then Jesus starts that amazing relay that carries on from that day to this...”to be proclaimed to all nations beginning from Jerusalem”

That chain stretches across the centuries...til someone tells someone who tells someone who tells YOU

YOU are witnesses of these things

But remember, you cannot be a witness to something you have not yet experienced...

We witness not on the basis of hearsay but from heartfelt, living faith.

Living faith comes from a direct experience of God's transforming love..that same experience that enabled a small group of frightened labourers to spread the gospel across the known world...

Living faith comes from repenting and knowing ourselves forgiven.

Living faith cannot keep silent – but reaches out to touch the lives of others.

YOU are witnesses of these things.

Just before the passage we've heard today, Luke records that wonderful encounter on the road to Emmaus...We don't get to hear it this year, but I want you to recall it for a moment because I think it's helpful to remember that the disciples on the road did not recognise Jesus at first.

They weren't in a super holy, super spiritual state of enlightenment...they were bumbling along, bewildered and anxious as most of us generally are...

But there, amid their confusion, was Jesus...walking beside them, helping them understand God's purposes, present with them in the breaking of bread.

And their experience is so often ours.

For many of us, our most frequent, most meaningful, most transformative experiences of God happen when we are with other people:when we talk about real life, the issues that thrill or perplex us, when we break bread and share a meal together, when we welcome the newcomer in our midst,when we explore scripture together.

It happens when we share what we can, and when we receive what others have to offer.

YOU are witnesses of these things.

Let me finish with a story.

In a small theological college, a first year student was asked to preach.

This novice worked all night on a sermon, but no words came. At the appropriate time, he stood in the pulpit, looked out at his fellow students and said “Do you know what I’m going to say?” They all shook their heads “no” and he said “neither do I, the service has ended, go in peace.”

Well, the Principle was not pleased. He told the student, “You will preach again tomorrow, and you had better have a real sermon.” Again, he stayed up all night, but still no sermon. When he stood in the pulpit, he asked “Do you know what I am going to say?” All the students nodded “yes” so the preacher said “Then there is no need for me to tell you. The service has ended, to in peace.”

Now, the Principle was angry. “You, you have one more chance. Preach the gospel tomorrow or you will be expelled from the college.” Again he worked all night, and the next morning stood before his classmates and asked “Do you know what I am going to say?” Half of them nodded “yes” while the other half shook their heads “no.” So the young preacher said “Those who know, tell those who don’t know. The service has ended, go in peace.”

This time, the Principle just smiled. He walked up to the student, put his arm around his shoulders and said “Hmmm…those who know, tell those who don’t know? Today, the gospel has been proclaimed. The service has ended, go in peace.”

Those who know tell those who don't

YOU are witnesses of these things, entrusted in your turn with that precious task of telling, or better still showing, friends, neighbours, family the wonders of love, forgiveness and transformation that you have experienced...to all nations, beginning in Cainscross and Selsley.

Thank God for Thomas - words for Easter 2B 2012

I wonder if you've ever had a nickname...and if so whether you liked it.

(Invite responses....)

Some nicknames are funny and endearing – I still like being called “Catkin” by those who knew me when I was too little to pronounce my own name

Others are plain silly – all those short guys known as “Lofty” and hulking 6 footers called “Titch”

And some are a bit hurtful....nicknames that reflect an aspect of a person and use that one aspect as shorthand for all that they are

“Four- eyes”

“Fatso”

“Doubting Thomas”

Ah yes...Doubting Thomas!

Such a familiar nickname that we even apply it to others...

“He's a bit of a doubting Thomas”

But is it really fair?

Across 2000 years Thomas is remembered not for his obedience in following Jesus

Not for his later courage in taking the gospel to India

but for his doubts.

But honestly, he wasn't much worse than the other disciples

Despite his denial of Jesus, we don't refer to “Peter the Turncoat”

Despite their anxiety to claim the best seats in the kingdom, we don't talk of James and John as the Wannabe Twins

But Thomas...he's stuck with that nickname, come what may.

And honestly, it's not surprising he doubted.

Imagine that you are with the 12 in that upper room in Jerusalem in the days after the crucifixion

None of you will be feeling very confident – in anything.

Each of you has let down your dearest friend

Each of you has put personal safety before the claims of God's kingdom

Each of you has cherished dreams that now seem to have withered before your eyes.

Each of you is, frankly, scared stiff.

But into that place of anxiety, fear and confusion comes Jesus – as he always does, into our places of anxiety, fear and confusion (even if we try to shut the doors against him)

Jesus with his message of peace – the forgiveness that each of that battered and beaten group most needs to receive

Peace – says Jesus...It's OK. I understand what you did. I still love you. You are forgiven.

PEACE BE WITH YOU

Peace to make good your failures

Peace to calm your fears

Peace to restore your broken dreams

The Peace of Christ – which he then tells them to share with others

“‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ 

 If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.’

Peace that transforms them all

But not Thomas

Poor Thomas is somewhere else that day, so he misses out not only on seeing Jesus but on receiving that blessed assurance that all is now well.

He listens to his friends, with all their new-found certainty – but while they seem to be seeing the world by the new light of Easter hope, he remains stuck in the darkness of Good Friday.

No Peace for him – indeed, their very confidence increases his isolation.

He must have been tempted to pretend that he too was now secure in his faith once again, or at least to keep out of their way, in an attempt to gloss over his uncertainty

....but he had the honesty to stick to his guns – and to his doubts

‘Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe.’

Thank God for Thomas.

We need him – just as we continue to need those who, in any group, ask the questions we are afraid to voice ourselves...

We need him because he shows us that it is absolutely OK to have doubts, OK

to ask questions – and that God honours those questions....

There is no lecture on the essentials of faith, no reproach for his uncertainty.

Instead Thomas is invited to come close to Jesus (what could be better) and to touch with his own hands Christ's body in all its resurrection life.

It's hard to imagine a more wonderful confirmation that questioning is welcome, that we are to come to Christ as we are, - not resting on the faith of others but discovering it for ourselves as the complicated individuals that we are....complicated individuals with our own unique relationship with God in Christ.

Faith is PERSONAL

Not something you can receive off the peg from another person

Your faith is shaped by your life experiences, by the people you encounter, the books that you read

It's rather like a jigsaw puzzle. As you go through life, you slowly assembly the puzzle, until perhaps you get a lovely picture, with no gaps.

At that point, life intervenes, and doubt takes the puzzle and throws it up in the air, so that you have to start reassembling the pieces once again.

Every time that happens, the puzzle comes out with a slightly different picture...YOUR picture, created through your own encounters with God and his people.

Jonathan Sacks, the Chief Rabbi, writes

"To be without questions is not a sign of faith, but of lack of depth." And he encourages people not only to ask questions about the meaning of the faith, but to question God. We ask questions, says Sacks, "not because we doubt, but because we believe."

So – that's my invitation to you today as well

ASK questions.

Write them down if you like and post them in the “Vicar's box”

I can't promise to answer them all, but if you add your name as well I'd love to explore them with you – or perhaps we'll use them to launch a study group...

Nothing is off limits...for what we're about is helping one another to make a really beautiful faith picture...and for that to be real, we need every experience of questioning and doubt.

Thank God for Thomas indeed.