If
you look at the front of your service booklet, you’ll see what has
become known as the “Coventry Welcome” , words which I was sent
in a slightly different form a long time before I came here, and
which I rewrote slightly to include in a sermon 2 summers ago. They
were well received, the Precentor decided to use them as one of our
front covers – and then someone
posted a photo on Facebook the
world went slightly
mad.
At one point I was getting up to 100 emails
enquiries
per week about the text, and
it was providing a conversation starter with people who had very
little idea of what a cathedral might be for, or why they should even
consider that they might WANT to visit. Oddly enough, after a bit of
a lull, it has recently generated vast interest once again – so
much so that I spent a bit of time yesterday recording an interview
for the American radio
station
npr….It’s all rather exciting for middle-aged cleric on a dull day in January!
The
thing is that, while I’m not sure we actually manage to live up to
it ALL the time, that welcome
statement
is surely a reflection of where we ought to be going as a Church
community. We are here because we believe that we’re onto something
rather wonderful – something
too good to keep to ourselves….and that must surely mean that we
are committed to sharing that with any and every one, no matter who
they are, where they come from, what they look like.
So
– let’s take that as a given.
We
WANT people to join us for worship.
We
WANT them to know there is space for them here, come
what may.
But
what next?
What
do we do for those who’ve made it over the threshold, who’ve
coped with the strange but beautiful patterns of word and music that
make up our liturgy, who’ve possibly even dared
to stay for coffee?
How
do we take them on the journey from curious
vistor
to frequent
attender
to engaged
community
member?
If
you have, how
did you
make that journey yourself?
Can
you remember?
Perhaps
it started with another question – though
probably not one you were asked directly.
It’s
the question from our gospel reading
“What
are you looking for?”
If
that was the very first thing that was said to you here, it might
seem rather abrupt. I suspect that mid-week visitors to the Cathedral
are sometimes confronted with a rather similar question, enough to
make the uncertain turn and flee.
Nevertheless
it’s a question that needs answering.
What
are you looking for, that brings you here week by week.
Is
it inspiring worship or engaging teaching? Is it a community of
like-minded people? Or is maybe, just maybe, a sense of the presence
of the Living God.
What
are you looking for?
In
John's gospel that's the beginning of everything for these, the
first of Christ's disciples.
They've
been looking for something for a while.
Following
John, listening to his words - and when he speaks about Jesus with
such confidence, they are fired up by his words
"Here
is the Lamb of God !"
What,
here? Now?
They
set off to find out more.
Lacking
the confidence to approach Jesus directly, they walk a few paces
behind him, playing follow my leader wherever he goes.
Already
it seems that he is not so much lamb as shepherd.
Sooner
or later, he spots them, turns, holds their gaze.
They
are stopped in their tracks as he asks
“What
are you looking for?"
It’s
a straightforward question, perfectly reasonable.
If
two complete strangers were dogging your every step,you'd
want
to know why.
But,
of course it is also a question with a host of deeper meanings.
One
of the biggest questions of faith
What
are
they
looking for?
There's
a song by the rock group U2 that might have been written for today's
gospel.It's
the story of a quest - climbing the highest mountains, scaling city
walls - only to conclude
"But
I still haven't found what
I’m looking for”
These
men have been with John for long enough to be classified as his
disciples.
They
have responded to his fiery message of repentance – it has touched
something in them.
But
it isn’t enough.
They
still haven't found what they're looking for.
John
himself has pointed them towards Jesus.
They
are hungry, like so many others, - but hungry for what?
Hungry
for healing?
Hungry
for reassurance?
Hungry
for change?
Hungry
for justice…?
Hungry
to belong?
Who
knows -they
certainly
don’t.
All
they know is that something is wrong with their world and it needs to
be set right, that they still haven’t found what they seek.
“What
are you looking for?”
asks Jesus, and to this crucial question they
really
have no answer.
So
often the questions of our faith are not the obvious tidy ones…the
ones that can be addressed by a catechism or an Alpha course.
We
find ourselves here - drawn to church, to faith, by an unnameable,
inexplicable longing….the restlessness that Augustine noted when he
wrote
“God,
you have made us for yourself and our hearts are restless till they
find their rest in you”
We
wrestle with doubts.
We
will not always like the church, or feel certain of our faith.
We
may go through patches when, like T S Eliot’s Magi, we are
convinced that “this was all folly”, but somehow we keep coming
back, almost despite ourselves.
“What
are you looking for?”
It’s
a question that could open the door onto all sorts of undreamed of
worlds…a question that just might force us to confront the needs
and longings that we try to stifle…a question worth asking
yourself, I'm sure.
As
a priest, it’s a question I don't think I ask enough - though I
often try to explore it when parents come to discuss their child's
baptism.
In
my anxiety to welcome all comers, I sometimes miss out on the need to
challenge them. I
may know in the depths of my heart that in Christ every human need
and longing is met, every anxious question answered - but if I don't
explore exactly what it is that brings people through our doors, how
can I help to serve them?
I’d
love to know of your own
hopes, fears
and expectations...to
spend time exploring together “What
are you looking for?”
And
the way the disciples respond - isn't it classic!
The
sort of trivial remark I too tend to blurt out when confronted by a
situation that suddenly seems to be rather more intense, more serious
that I had bargained for…I need something to fill the gap, to cover
my embarrassment, so I witter away…
“Ummm….(Thinking
wildly) .......Where are you staying?”
Jesus’
answer is a simple but wonderful invitation.
“Come
and see!”
Some
years ago, I was given this passage to pray with on retreat.
I
was asked to place myself somewhere in the story, and so in my
imagination, I found myself accompanying the disciples along the
river bank , never letting Jesus out of my sight.
Like
them I blushed and stuttered as he turned and spoke to me
directly…and like them I was unable to resist the invitation to
“Come and see”
And
that day, as I imagined a small dark room in a sugar cube house
(based in my mind’s eye entirely on the line drawings that
illustrated the Good News Bible), Jesus invited me to spend the day
with him…and at lunch time he took bread, broke it and placed some
in my hand.
And
then I realised that what I was looking for, the place where he was
staying was right there…right here…Jesus in you…Jesus in
me…Jesus in bread and wine….
Come
and see.
No comments:
Post a Comment