Almost exactly a year ago, I was privileged to pray at the Western Wall in Jerusalem. Amid many profound experiences in an extraordinary pilgrimage, this one touched my heart in unexpected ways. You see, we’d spent all our time til then immersed in Christian heritage – but as kind Jewish women made space for me among the Friday night crowds so that I could whisper my own prayers, leave my own folded petition in a crack between the stones at the Western Wall I was newly conscious of my own affinity with those who worship there week on week. Why else do we read the Hebrew Scriptures, pray the psalms each day, if not to help us to remember our shared heritage? Jesus was, among so much else, a Jew...We "People of the Book" – Jews, Muslims, Christians, - are united by so much – but as we look towards Holocaust Memorial day, it is our shared humanity that matters above all.
Our Old Testament reading tells us that there is a time for every purpose under heaven...and in its sequence of paired opposites seems to lull us into a sense that all things are inevitable, that there is no more to celebrate in the good times than to mourn in the bad. The preacher presents human experience like a great pendulum held by God and swinging back and forth from one extreme to the other...each activity balanced by its opposite, each taking centre stage for a season, and the seasons themselves taking their place amid the ever-circling years.
BUT we know that some activities, some times are NOT inevitable, that they arise because of human choices. We know.that what happened under the Nazi regime to 6 million Jews and countless other victims of persecution, is in no way part of the natural rhythm of life. We cannot look at those events and then imagine that an equal and opposite reaction, an out pouring of colossal, sacrificial kindness, would somehow redress the balance. All we can do is lament the inhumanity which still holds sway and refuse to allow any group– any nation, race, faith, sexuality, - to be othered – set apart as somehow different, less important than ourselves, somehow less human.
That’s the message of our Litany, of course, where the power of the missing word – not “Father forgive THEM” but simply “Father forgive” unites us all in our need of forgiveness. Whenever we pray it, we are invited to recognise our own potential to do good, to be people of good will, or the reverse, to change the world for better or worse in our lifetimes.
That’s our responsibility, one which we cannot lightly set down, for our action or inaction may shape the life of others in unforeseen and terrible ways.
The German pastor Martin Niemöller recognised this in the well known confession which might give us all pause
“
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.]
When Jesus was asked to summarise the Law, he was very clear. Love God and love your neighbour...And, in case you’re in any doubt, your neighbour means anyone with whom you share this planet…
Love might not mean warm fuzzy feelings – but it does mean seeking the best for that neighbour, again and again and again, no matter their race, creed, colour, sexuality or politics. Our job is to love and care for one another. That's why we are here.
So at this season we stand together, remembering that we are all God’s children, and that our God has no favourites. The striking Echo Eternal exhibition in the north aisle includes young people's responses to the stories of holocaust survivors. They are sobering reading, and I'd encourage you to engage with them later.
One writer began “They took away my name and gave me a number. I no longer existed. I had no name”.
In that appalling season of mass-murder, humanity went missing along with the millions of lives that were lost in the death camps.
But each life mattered then and still matters today.
400 years before the Holocaust, John Donne wrote “Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind”. We don’t have a choice about that. We are all involved in mankind, all human. But we do have a choice to live into our humanity or to settle for something meaner, smaller, that focuses on our own well-being, or that of our family, no matter what the cost to others.
For centuries the Jewish people, strangers in the midst of countries across the world, bore the brunt of so much fear and hatred, which reached its climax in the unspeakable events of the Holocaust. Today that spectre of anti-semitism casts a shadow over some parts of society – but remember, we still have choices. There is a time for many purposes under heaven but there is never a right time to hate, to exclude, to persecute.
And remember, too, that we live our lives in the light of eternity…
”God has set eternity in the hearts of man” so that we might remember that we’re here for a season but will need to account to God for the way in which we’ve used his gift of time.
Let us ask for his help that our time may be a blessing – that we may be kind to one another, tender hearted…rejoicing in our shared humanity.
Our Old Testament reading tells us that there is a time for every purpose under heaven...and in its sequence of paired opposites seems to lull us into a sense that all things are inevitable, that there is no more to celebrate in the good times than to mourn in the bad. The preacher presents human experience like a great pendulum held by God and swinging back and forth from one extreme to the other...each activity balanced by its opposite, each taking centre stage for a season, and the seasons themselves taking their place amid the ever-circling years.
BUT we know that some activities, some times are NOT inevitable, that they arise because of human choices. We know.that what happened under the Nazi regime to 6 million Jews and countless other victims of persecution, is in no way part of the natural rhythm of life. We cannot look at those events and then imagine that an equal and opposite reaction, an out pouring of colossal, sacrificial kindness, would somehow redress the balance. All we can do is lament the inhumanity which still holds sway and refuse to allow any group– any nation, race, faith, sexuality, - to be othered – set apart as somehow different, less important than ourselves, somehow less human.
That’s the message of our Litany, of course, where the power of the missing word – not “Father forgive THEM” but simply “Father forgive” unites us all in our need of forgiveness. Whenever we pray it, we are invited to recognise our own potential to do good, to be people of good will, or the reverse, to change the world for better or worse in our lifetimes.
That’s our responsibility, one which we cannot lightly set down, for our action or inaction may shape the life of others in unforeseen and terrible ways.
The German pastor Martin Niemöller recognised this in the well known confession which might give us all pause
“
First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.]
When Jesus was asked to summarise the Law, he was very clear. Love God and love your neighbour...And, in case you’re in any doubt, your neighbour means anyone with whom you share this planet…
Love might not mean warm fuzzy feelings – but it does mean seeking the best for that neighbour, again and again and again, no matter their race, creed, colour, sexuality or politics. Our job is to love and care for one another. That's why we are here.
So at this season we stand together, remembering that we are all God’s children, and that our God has no favourites. The striking Echo Eternal exhibition in the north aisle includes young people's responses to the stories of holocaust survivors. They are sobering reading, and I'd encourage you to engage with them later.
One writer began “They took away my name and gave me a number. I no longer existed. I had no name”.
In that appalling season of mass-murder, humanity went missing along with the millions of lives that were lost in the death camps.
But each life mattered then and still matters today.
400 years before the Holocaust, John Donne wrote “Any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind”. We don’t have a choice about that. We are all involved in mankind, all human. But we do have a choice to live into our humanity or to settle for something meaner, smaller, that focuses on our own well-being, or that of our family, no matter what the cost to others.
For centuries the Jewish people, strangers in the midst of countries across the world, bore the brunt of so much fear and hatred, which reached its climax in the unspeakable events of the Holocaust. Today that spectre of anti-semitism casts a shadow over some parts of society – but remember, we still have choices. There is a time for many purposes under heaven but there is never a right time to hate, to exclude, to persecute.
And remember, too, that we live our lives in the light of eternity…
”God has set eternity in the hearts of man” so that we might remember that we’re here for a season but will need to account to God for the way in which we’ve used his gift of time.
Let us ask for his help that our time may be a blessing – that we may be kind to one another, tender hearted…rejoicing in our shared humanity.