Let mutual love continue
What a text for this week of all weeks, when with every hour, it seems, the fault-lines that we had never noticed, through decades of gentle liberalism, are becoming ever deeper, yawning chasms, threatening to engulf so much that we have taken for granted…
The practices of traditional democracy
Respect for the monarch
A peaceful society in which civil disobedience might occasionally take place, but really should not be encouraged
In just a few short days all of those givens seem to have been swept away and, if I’m honest, at the moment there are certain of our political leaders, and even more of our journalists, with whom I’d really struggle to sit at table.
I don’t LIKE what is happening one little bit, and it is making me very anxious.
That anxiety is no longer rooted in what may or may not happen on 31st October, but refers, rather, to the way that I no longer feel able to read society...So many things that I would have imagined unthinkable suddenly seem to be practically commonplace and I’m rather at sea as I try to avoid panic and make sense of it all,
I’d like my former version of reality restored – even if it was, in fact, distressingly myopic, reflecting only the translucent rainbow walls of my protected bubble – but the truth is that I can’t Unsee what I have seen – I cannot forget what I now know about how my neighbours view the world
And so I have to find a way through somehow. And right now I’m not finding it easy.
I’ve considered whether I might simply pull up the drawbridge...Respond to my fears...
Gatherimy family around me in a protective huddle and try to forget about the rest of the world altogether.
After all, if I have misread so many cues, surely I’d do better to stay only with those whom I love best, those whom I really do know almost as well as I know myself…
Except, of course, that’s not how it works.
Not in our epistle, and not in the gospel either.
We’re not invited to withdraw. Quite the reverse.
We’re to carry on doing what we’re called to do.
LOVING
Loving in this Cathedral community – regardless of the disagreements which will inevitably follow once our relationships that have moved beyond the simply superficial.
Loving in our neighbourhoods, - jettisoning our personal agendas to pursue the common good.
Loving, even when it costs: we may well have to set aside things that we’d imagined to be non-negotiables...whether they are treasured attitudes or treasured possessions, or maybe those extra tins we’ve stashed on the top shelf of the larder just in case there’s a shortage of chick-peas by Christmas.
Yesterday, a good friend posted a rather beautiful series of line drawings of the seven “Works of mercy” that the Church has been advocating pretty much since the Sermon on the Mount– and it struck me that there is no better guideline for how we should act – and not just if the crisis deepens. May I remind you of them?
We are to :
feed the hungry;
give water to the thirsty;
clothe the naked;
shelter the homeless;
visit the sick;
visit the imprisoned, or ransom the captive
and
to bury the dead
If that sounds daunting, I’m sorry. Do remember, though, you’re not on your own.
But yes, if we’re serious about mutual love – it’s going to be tough.
If we’re serious about reconciliation, it’s going to be tougher.
We may have to let go of the things we’ve hung on to, to leave our hands free to carry the things that have been weighing our neighbours down.
The good news is that, if mutual love is the order of the day, then they will find themselves carrying our stuff for us too as we exchange not only burdens but perspectives too….
It takes work – of course it does – but it really is worth doing. Imagine if as we arrived here on a Sunday morning we really truly KNEW that we were coming into a place where we were deeply known and deeply loved not just by God but by our brothers and sisters in Christ. It’s one of the most precious gifts we can ever offer.
And then, of course, we’re called to widen our perspective still further.
“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers” - or, as this morning’s parable would have it “invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind”
The Kingdom of God is all about the OUTsiders…
I’m always wryly amused at the way the word “parochial” has become symbolic of small-town, small-minded attitudes when the original vision was of a place where aliens might gather to feel at home, literally an inside place for the outsider, a community of sojourners in a strange land.
We’ve been welcomed as outsiders ourselves and now we are to be agents of God’s hospitality – and there are no limitts here.
If we expected one order of precedence – a kind of top table based on our own understanding of who is worthwhile, a net contributor to society, people who would pass border controls with little fuss..We’re about to be rather startled.
Because Kingdom loving includes those who were once outsiders, aliens, rejects – and sees us taking a lower place in humility, rather than holding on to our rights, our analysis of who and what actually matters.
At this kingdom banquet,it’s the non contributors, those who will struggle to secure leave to remain, who are to be our first guests at the table
There’s loads of room. There really is.
Though Jesus didn’t actually say it in as many words, I’m confident that this view would most certainly make him smile
When you have more than you need, build a longer table not a higher fence
In the face of all our fears, that reminder that we DO have more than we need
That we are not only called to be hospitable, but resourced to make it possible
That we shouldn’t expect to exclude ANYONE from our welcome speaks directly into the fears and confusions of this current time.
A longer table, not a higher fence...
Hospitality is one of our cathedral values because it belongs at the heart of everything.
We have been given so much – grace up on grace – so that we might give in return.
Our hearts may not always lift as we welcome the stranger for sometimes she will seem VERY strange, a bit smelly, and utterly impossible to understand.
But that doesn’t matter.
We don’t have to FEEL welcoming – any more than we have to FEEL love.
We just have to do it anyway.
That’s part of our identity as God’s people.
And we need to remember too that, in the Kingdom where the first will be last and the last first, we can’t hold onto ideas of relative status or importance. I can’t stress this too much, in a building that teeters on the verge of encouraging all us to feel a bit special, just because we belong here.
Instead, I have to ask, when did you last, metaphorically or even literally, wash someone’s feet?
Jesus did make it pretty clear, really – acting as his own sermon illustration in case we were in danger of missing the point...
Sometimes, the Kingdom of God might look like a sea of toddlers and teddies crowding the floor by the West Screens...or a Muslim family taking shelter from a sudden downpour….or a street homeless guy in search of a cuppa….or….you can fill in the blanks yourself
And remember – it’s not really our table anyway. We’re all here by invitation
We are here by invitation of the One who holds nothing back.
Who offers us boundless, unlimited, unconditional love day by day and delights when we share that love with a hurting world.
There’s a song by the Australian hymnodist, Shirley Erena Murray, which sums up pretty much all I want to say now...You'll find it with Google so do read and reflect.
For everyone born a place at the table
For everyone born, clean water and bread,
A shelter, a space, a safe place for growing,
For everyone born, a star overhead.
And God will delight
When we are creators orf justice and joy,
Compassion and peace
Yes God will delight
When we are creators of justice, justice and joy.
Amen. Let it be so.
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