The
end of the summer term...Time for primary school children to take a
bag with them to school specially so they can bring home the trophies
of the year. Those who are parents will probably remember the trauma
of being confronted by a child who is proudly displaying an artefact
they've made at school...and realising that you have literally NO
idea what it is...Those who are too young to have experienced this
from a parental viewpoint may remember the frustration of those
“It's
lovely – what is it?” questions...
so....I
know I'm taking a risk by asking you tell me what you think this is.
OK
– It's a nail. Not one that has ever been used to hold things
together – because it was only made last week...and yes, I AM the
one who made it & I'm quite proud of it, actually...so there!
But
it's also a story
A
story that began amid the violence of war, as the Krupps factory in
Essen turned out guns and ammunition which was used in anger by the
Axis forces against the allies...but was also the target of repeated
allied air raids.
A
place that, like Coventry, represents the human capacity both to hurt
and to be hurt by others...but also, like Coventry, a place that
decided not to be defined by the negatives of the past...
I
know a tiny bit about Essen now, because last weekend I met the youth
group from the Kreuzkirche there.
As
CCN partners they had come to Coventry to show us their particular
take on the Bible passage we've just heard, for they've embarked on a
project they call “metalworking for peace”.
I'd
like to believe that the metal they use is recycled from a harsher
use – like the trees of life that artists in Mozambique build from
decommissioned guns – but actually, that doesn't really matter.
What
matters is that these young people have determined that their
community shall be known not for its skill in making weapons of war
but for its commitment to justice and peace.
And
what's more they invite others to join in with the work.
My
great grandfather was a blacksmith in Gravesend, Kent at the start of
the 20th
century...something I only remembered mid way through the process of
wielding a hammer as instructed, as the hot metal emerged from the
furnace to be shaped into something that could, if I can team up with
2 other people, one day be part of a cross of nails.
I
suspect he would not be very proud of his descendent – because I
was pretty useless, really.
First
I didn't use enough force, then I applied force in the wrong place –
though thankfully not to my fingers, nor anyone else's either...
Even
with lots of help the process was surprisingly hard work.
And
noisy
Very
very noisy
There
was no possibility of any stealth transformation taking place.... no
secret reshaping...
It
was all too easy to get things wrong – specially as the process
went on, and we began to shape the metal rod so that it could be
snapped off at the right length to match the medieval nails which
were our inspiration.
More
than once, my
embryonic nail had to be returned to the heat of the forge, so that
it could be bent back into something close to the right shape again.
Transformation
doesn't just happen, even when you have a whole team of people
focussed on it.
But
finally it was time to fix the shape by plunging it into cold
water...with a terrifying hiss....and the metal that had been red hot
only moments before was dropped into my waiting palm...
and
there it was.
Finished.
My
own illustration of the process that sees swords turned into
ploughshares.
But
of course, weapons cannot of themselves hurt anyone...
It
is people who do that, and in a week of mounting violence in Israel
Palestine, in Iraq, and while we wait to hear what really happened to
bring down flight MH17 over Ukraine, the dreadful inclination of
humanity to wound and destroy seems particularly oppressive.
Wherever
we turn, there is fresh evidence that we've learned the lessons of
cruelty, hatred and fear that have shaped the course of human history
for too many generations.
All
those sins for which we ask forgiveness whenever we pray the Litany
of Reconciliation...because we STILL carry on allowing them scope in
our lives and our world.
As
one of the Collects truly says “We have no power of ourselves to
help ourselves”
But
that's where another work of transformation comes in...a work of
transformation that brings hope from despair...a work to which Isaiah
looked as he wrote of God's future breaking in to our present.
Because
– his words are for us...
They
point to something that may not be fully realised in our time...but
something which we are part of.
So...here
is our invitation.
Let
US go up to the mountain of the Lord...so that God may teach US his
ways.
Let
us allow him to reshape our lives, to turn those habits of fear and
hatred into ways of being that are founded on love, grace and
gratitude...
It
won't be easy...or instantaneous
It
wont, I'm afraid, always be comfortable...
"Who may abide the day of his coming...for he is like a refiner's fire"
I
don't imagine that, had that metal rod had any feelings, it would
have enjoyed the process of being forged...heat, hammer blows, more
heat...
Sometimes,
that kind of pressure can seem to be our dominant experience of God's
power at work in our lives...because, you see, we're not being called
to be simply nice kind people...nor even people with a wonderful
story of hope to share.
We
are being radically reshaped – and that may involve experiences
that feel very much like loss.
The
route to holiness is demanding, challenging, costly...and at times it may feel as if we're not getting anywhere.
My nail, for all the work I lavished on it, looks dull, crude, incomplete - and nothing like the shiney cross of nails I aspire to...
and I'm a work in progress too, with all the rough edges and unfinished business that implies.
But I'm en route to something better...I AM "in progress" and I'm aiming to be someone quite different one day.
That is the path that we're all invited to walk on, for we are being
changed, little by little, so that we can be nothing less than the
Body of Christ...signs
of His Kingdom, where humanity shall study war no more.
