Saturday, December 8, 2007

Confession

Short Sermon for the Second Sunday in Advent

At this service, the words of absolution are to be given to people individually by the laying on of hands. The emphasis of the service is a proper celebration of the Christian understanding of penance and forgiveness.

If you attend an American university you can chop your degree into two parts, the major and the minor. Its become an accepted verb to say that ‘I’m majoring’ in this or that. Today I want to think about forgiveness as one of the Church’s sacrament, sacred actions, which has two facets; a major and minor.

The first part of the story of forgiveness is our sins, the fall of mankind which begins in the third chapter of Genesis. After the armistice of World War I, many men returned from battle unable to connect not only with their families and wider communities but with what the Church was doing. In many parishes the churches carried on doing the same old things as if not much had happened. To many of these scarred veterans it all seemed incomprehensible and parochial. Christmas in particular seemed a tweed nonsense nested, and almost lost, in the verbosity of the liturgy. It took an imaginative Anglican priest to decide to address this by creating, the service of Nine Lesson and Carols. The lessons don’t start with Bethlehem or even the angel Gabriel but take us right back to the genesis of our sins, the fall of Adam and Eve. Nine Lessons and Carols was a simple formula which made the story of the Bible accessible to the masses.

The Scriptures and the Christian tradition speak of our sinfulness as a fundamental break in our relationship with our creator. In seeking restoration we are seeking to mend not only our own personal sins but also our lack of justice and concerns for our neighbour. The ancients saw humanity acting as a single body, no one could shrug their shoulders and say “I wasn’t there governor!” or to quote Cain the first murder: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” This idea of us all being responsible is a difficult concept for us to get in our individualistic culture and it makes preaching, ‘we all crucified Jesus’ almost indigestible to modern listeners. Profoundly movie director Mel Gibson understood this in the Passion of the Christ when he insisted on using his own hands to film the knocking of the huge nails in the hands of the actor playing Jesus.

On one level we can be too casual about our need of God’s forgiveness. “I’m as a good a person as the next” is a frequent rebuttal to religious piety. But the misunderstanding is that goodness in the Bible is not defined as an average of the British population. The New Testament is clear that there is only one standard, Jesus Christ. He is the measure against we must measure our goodness. Paul says quite clearly “All have fallen short of the glory of God”.

The second part of the story of forgiveness is what God is doing for us through Jesus Christ. My first real experience of forgiveness as a sacramental action of the church was going to confession for the first time at the age of 21. The elderly priest was a dear friend, almost an uncle, and an exceptionally wise man. As many of you know I gave our son his middle name, Douglas. Yet on that day I remained scared stiff as I knelt by his side. I was going not with a heavy list of sins but had come to an awareness that if I was to minister to other and grow spiritually I had take on some discipline like this. I was a reluctant penitent. As I waffled and stuttered my list of faults, rehearsed over many days, I looked up and became aware of the old priest's face holding an incredible warmth and compassion. After giving me my very easy penance he lay his hands on my head and said the words of absolution. At that singular moment, like none before, I knew God loved me. For days I was high as kite and light on my feet. I got a taste for it and I now see as part of the church’s healing ministry.

This is the second part of the story of forgiveness and can you guess which is the major and which is the minor. I had spent days sweating over what I was going to say, focussing earnestly on my sins. But this was a minor issue in respect to the love I was to experience. Yes, the discipline of knowing our sins, acknowledging our part in the tragedy of the fall is important but it is second fiddle in comparison to the experience of God’s total forgiveness and all encompassing love. Yes, confession is underrated and underused but God’s love is the end point.

Here’s a liturgical thought. When the priest says, ‘Let us confess our sins in penitence and faith.’ What do you do in these few seconds, what races through your mind? Its very difficult to list a range of sins in such short time unless we have prepared for it. It maybe useful to offer in prayer one or two things but let in this liturgical pause let us swing it the other way around and not think so much about us, but rather about God. Let us celebrate his mercy.

Name your sins but more importantly – name your saviour.



Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Great Expectations

A couple of years ago I got invited to go to one of the Queen's garden parties. Unfortunately, as it was near the due date of our first child it was impractical for us to attend. I did however notice on the invitation card that there was no RSVP. It dawned on me later on that this signifies something quite profound in royal etiquette - IE one does not turn her Majesty down and so there is no option to decline.
If you do go to one of these royal events a certain sense of expectation fills the air before the monarch arrives. I am told there is a buzz in the air and a great hush when the Queen arrives. Even before you get to the venue you are preparing yourself mentally and rehearsing what you are going to say or do. There is no room for the flippant or casual remarks.

Advent as a season holds a certain air of "royal" expectation. On a theological level Advent reminds us not only of the birth of Jesus but also his return to judge the world and put all things into completion. I have a corny fridge magnet which says 'Jesus is coming - look busy!' Nothing motivates a workforce more than knowing the boss is around the corner and will be in soon.
Some of the early 5th century depictions of Jesus showed him as a Byzantine Emperor, regal and majestic. The priests referred to Jesus as the 'Pantocrantor' (Greek Παντοκράτωρ) that is the Almighty. The icons (see above) and mosaics are stunning but also somewhat fearsome to look at. This is not so much gentle Jesus, meek and mild but the Lion of Judah and the judge of the world. It reminded me of the description of Aslan in the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. On hearing that Aslan is on the move Mr Beaver confirms to Lucy and the children that Aslan is no tame lion rather the contrary. But although Aslan is terrifying to be with, he is fundamentally good and kind.
And so in Advent we hold in tension two images of Christ; the vulnerable baby and the returning judge. Both images are not contradictory but are equally valid and invite us to a new relationship with God. As Christians I think Advent also challenges us to reflect on what we are doing when we worship and what do who we expect when we come to Church? It's all too easy to get casual and forget that we are worshipping God Almighty rather than God All-matey.
Let me provide another example. If at the Eucharist we truly believe that we are coming into the sacramental presence of Jesus Christ then how will we carry ourselves? Is it just another day in the park or should we be trembling a bit at the awesomeness of what is happening? Because if we really believe the doctrines of the Church then the Eucharist is mind blowing, it is the ultimate miracle.

"The sacramental body and blood of the Saviour are present as an offering to the believer awaiting His welcome." Joint Anglican-Roman Catholic Statement on the Eucharist - 1971 para 8.

It is inspiring to see how in other faiths people display reverence quite openly, removing shoes, prostration, bowing, silence, dressing appropriately, etc. Yet as Brits we have tended to shun all of this a bit. Is it because we are bit "buttoned up" and don't like to display our enthusiasm for God? Or worse still is it because deep down we dont believe any of it any more. Yet a proper air of expectation in the liturgy of the church can be a great evangelising tool. It allows others to see that something extraordinary is happening here. This does not have be displayed by effervescent charismatic guestures or complex series of genuflections. If the heart is the right place then a sense of awe will permeate our worship. If the heart is the wrong place then any rituals, songs, prayers will be hollow and ape the pharisees of old.
So here at St Clements we have decided to keep the liturgy fairly simple for Advent. Nothing too grand, fussy or flashy. We have tried to expand on the silent bits and not feel embarrassed about it. There is less music, fewer words, and in these gloomy winter Sundays, even less light. Of course, come Christmas Eve, all of this will change.




Monday, December 3, 2007

Bring back that Advent Hush

At its best Advent is a time of expectation rather than a mad rush around. Before things got all too commerciliased my childhood Advents in Devon were exciting times when there was a lull before the festivities of Christmas. When Christmas came it was not just a celebration of one day but a whole 12 days. I was genuinely sad when Epiphany, 6 January, passed.

Now Advent seems chronologically constipated with endless activity. By Christmas Day many of us are glad its all over and are very fed up with the endless pressures it brings. Advent in Britain used to feel like a warm but brooding darkness pentrated by a growing light. Now it feels more a mad drive in the pouring rain with intermintant oncoming headlights blinding the road ahead. Advent has become a migraine and a casualty in the war of supermarkets.

Did you know that supermarkets daze us with unnatural light so as to confuse our sense of time. Outside light is blocked so that we forget what time it is. If for example we knew how late it was then we may hurry rather than stay for more shopping. Designers of these modern day tenmples do not want us to see the darkness outside. And yet I find I want the Advent gloom to blanket me so that I am ready afresh for, to paraphrase the Benedictus, the light which shines through the shadow of death.

The words of the US author, Minnie Louise Haskins (1875-1957), capture it so well. It was famously used by George VI in his Christmas broadcast, 1939, And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: 'Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown'. And he replied: 'Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.'

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Dismantling the Republic of Heaven


Sermon for Christ the King - 2007


In the last decade an intellectual war has been going on, a battle for the hearts and minds of the nation, if not its very soul. This seemingly invisible war is between believers and unbelievers and the battlefield is the imagination. Ticket sales of Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ was a clear victory for the Gospel but retaliation came in the shape of the hugely popular, but intensely trite, Da Vinci Code. Founded on a powder cake of fantasy, misinterpretation, and mindless prejudice Dan Brown’s airport novel entices its readers to think that they have stumbled upon a great secret; that the Church is corrupt and most of Christianity is a fourth century invention. Cinematic rebuttal came in the form of a rather good adaptation of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; CS Lewis admired and timeless Christian allegory.

Then in the last year, Professor Richard Dawkins, penned The God Delusion, which instantly became a bestseller. Poorly written and packed with intellectual half-truths it presents a view of religion and Christianity which seem unrecognisable and dogmatic as any fundamentalist. Dawkins aims, the blurb states, to drive out from the reader any last vestiges of belief by the last chapter. Strangely for an academic, Dawkins, never bothered to approach even the most moderate of theologians.

On the same bandwagon we will soon have showing in the movies, Philip Pullman’s atheistic books for children, His Dark Materials. The first book called Northern Lights is released as The Golden Compass in the next few days. In a number of lectures and interviews Pullman has been explicit about his purpose. 'I hate the Narnia books, and I hate them with deep and bitter passion’. His motivation for writing this trilogy was specifically to counteract Lewis' symbolisms of Christ that are portrayed in the Narnia series as Aslan the Lion. "My books are about killing God." He has even stated that he wants to "kill God in the minds of children". It has been said of Pullman that he is the writer the atheists would be praying for, if atheists prayed.

The first book of the Pullman fantasy begins from an alternative universe ruled by senile despotic God called The Authority. It would be easy to let him off the hook since this particular world is not of our own. We might forgive him that the Church, otherwise known as The Magisterium, is nasty and secretive, priests are murderous nasty or drunk. Yet as the books move on we see the plot intersect into this world and the authors’ agenda becomes clear. The Kingdom of Heaven is to be overthrown and a republic, with all the benefits, set up instead. In the plot one of the characters, an ex-nun, describes Christianity as "a very powerful and convincing mistake." In the final book, characters representing Adam and Eve eventually kill God, who at times is called YAHWEH. Each book in the trilogy gets progressively worse regarding Pullman 's hatred of Jesus Christ.

How different this is from the good news of Jesus Christ who even when nailed to a cross taught forgiveness and love. ‘I promise you that today you will be in paradise with me’.(Luke 23.43). His whole life was one of being poured out for others. To quote Paul - ‘He always had the nature of God, but he did not think by force he should try to become equal with God, instead of this, of his own free will he gave up all he had and took up the nature of a slave.’ (Philippians 2.6-7) Likewise, the Kingdom of Heaven is not a fascist rule but a communion, a fellowship, where Christ calls us not servants but friends (John 15.15) who know the Father’s plan for the healing and redemption of the cosmos. In particular this kingdom is a radical kingdom for the poor. (Luke 6.20) ‘Blessed are you poor for the kingdom of heaven is yours.’ So if we speak of Christ as a king then his crown is not of gold but of a crown of thorns. To quote Isaiah and the ancient liturgy; by his wounds we are redeemed. (Isaiah 53.5).

Finally, how should the Christian fight this war for the imagination? There are two extremes. The first, I see a lot in the more traditional churches and is a feeling of complacency often expressed with a slight dismay that young people don’t come to church anymore. Each of us has to measure in our minds whether the campaign for Christianity is worth winning in our corner of the world. If we want our children and grandchildren to have a Church in twenty or thirty years time then we need to fight for it. I want to say to specifically St Clements (Aberdeen) folk that this congregation’s survival is not dependent on fighting diocesan funding plans but each of us being instruments of good news. Too often we have perceived the battle as being with diocesan committees. The battle is not “in” the Church but outwith. The battle for St Clements begins not here but in our homes, schools, and workplaces. Unless we are explicitly talking about Christ in these arenas nothing will happen.

Secondly, the Gospel is about truth in love, not truth in hate. We could all get a bit more fired up and be zealots for the Kingdom of Heaven. That would be great but we should not do so in a way that is obnoxious, let alone violent. No doubt, many of our detractors would like nothing better than for us to seen be screeching words of hatred and waving placards. It would confirm their prejudged image that essentially all believers are aggressive fundamentalists. Therefore sent out as God’s sheep we must be as Christ said, innocent as the dove and wise as the serpent. (Matthew 10.16). This means acting peacefully, listening to difficult questions generously, and where possible appealing to criticism and cynicism with imagination. This is at heart the path of love and charity. Only by this way can we dismantle the republic of heaven that many would seek to build here on earth.

**
Notes


1. We celebrated this feast a week early so that next week we could have our patronal celebration and AGM.


2. At the end of this sermon it struck me that I could have mentioned the Lord of the Rings trilogy which came out in film in the last few years. Tolkien like Lewis used this as an allegory to Christianity. It is harder work to get the parallels with the Gospel but they are there. I suppose the most obvious is the name of the last part; The Return of the King.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

The Real Santa Claus

For anyone interested there is an excellent website http://www.stnicholascenter.org/ which is packed with historical information and teaching materials on Saint Nicholas aka Santa Claus. I was lucky to have spent some of my childhood in Bruxelles where Father Christmas was referred to by his proper name. The more I have read about St Nick the more I feel that this is great saint who has much to teach us today. The use of his large inheritance, his ministry as a bishop and his imprisonment during the Diocletian tyranny point to a spiritual giant. There is also compelling evidence that he was present at the Council of Nicea - something which the idiotic pseudo-historian Dan Brown would probably never concede. Just when so many are trying to rubbish the modern Church as a calculated invention of Emperor Constantine here is a friendly familiar voice from that era telling us otherwise. So here's parting thought, the next time you are in church with a child and you hear the Creed - tell them Santa wrote it.

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

A Cautionary Tale for Hall Managers

As I begin to wind down ministry at St Clements Aberdeen there are a few odd administration jobs I am trying to complete. The first is in re-marketting our excellent large hall with one of our parishioners appointed as a contact person for potential bookings. In the past we have had a pretty full schedule but recently the weekly usage has become a bit sparse.

So with posters placed around the precinct I was pleasantly surprised to find out that an enquiry was made the next day. However, our new contact person was in a terrible flap because she had not realised that the exercise class was based on POLE DANCING! Now I understand this is not a re-run of 'Calender Girls' and the participants keep their clothes on but if you are an anxious person like me then you can imagine the local paper headlines on this one.

Is there a patron saint for church hall? There should be. Regulation, health & safety, licences and equality laws make hall use a potential mine field. Luckily the pole dancing instructor saw this was not going to work and could do the church a lot of harm. Yet what if she had argued her case and said that I was discriminating against her? Would I have a leg to stand on? My understanding of the law is that if you offer a public space then you cannot pick and choose who uses it. A similar case happened to us last year when a 'New Age' Reiki healer wanted to book a regular evening slot. I said that this went against our Christian ethos and again thankfully nothing further happened. If anyone has any thoughts on this do feel free to post them.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

One Solitary Life

For Sunday School we decided to ask the children how they wanted to be remembered - what for example in many years did they want written on their gravestones? At the end of this session this poem was read out. Its called the 'One Solitary Life' - I'm still trying to find out who wrote it.









Here is a man who was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman.He grew up in another village. He worked in a carpenter shop until
He was thirty.Then for three years He was an itinerant preacher.

He never owned a home. He never wrote a book. He never held an office. Henever had a family. He never went to college. He never put His foot inside a bigcity. He never traveled two hundred miles from the place He was born. He neverdid one of the things that usually accompany greatness. He had no credentials but Himself.

While still a young man, the tide of popular opinion turned against him. His friendsran away. One of them denied Him. He was turned over to His enemies. He wentthrough the mockery of a trial. He was nailed upon a cross between two thieves.While He was dying, His executioners gambled for the only piece of property Hehad on earth – His coat. When He was dead, He was laid in a borrowed gravethrough the pity of a friend.

Nineteen long centuries have come and gone, and today He is a centerpiece of the human race and leader of the column of progress.

I am far within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched, all thenavys that were ever built; all the parliaments that ever sat and all the kings thatever reigned, put together, have not affected the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as has that ONE SOLITARY LIFE!

Friday, November 2, 2007

My Favourite Salcombe Snapshot
















This photo is stuck to our fridge in our manse in Aberdeen. It's one of my personal favourites and shows St Clements Hope Cove on a sunny September day.

All Souls Sermon

This is my sermon text for Sunday 4th November at St Clements Church, Mastrick. We traditionally set November aside for reflecting on death, remembrance,All Souls, etc.


I love that scene in Only Fools and Horses where Rodney and Del Boy dressed as Batman and Robin burst into what they think is a fancy dress party but instead is a funeral reception. Naturally, they feel like complete 'plonkers'. In thinking about how we as Christians should respond to death I feel a bit of empathy with the Peckam's dynamic duo. Theologically speaking, in the arena of ideas and culture I sometimes feel as if I have crashed into a gathering with totally the wrong costume.

This is because with secularisation a large part of our nation's Christian heritage has fallen away and the message of good news falls largely on deaf ears. Death has become a taboo, if not the ultimate consumer inconvenience. Yet I want to argue that as Christians we have a wonderful opportunity to speak positively about death and in doing so we are revealing a wonderful dimension to the good news of Jesus Christ. I want to reflect on this by looking at death in three guises; politics, spirituality and healing.

Politics.

In first century Judea and Galilee a persons opinion on death was highly contentious. What you thought about the next life affected spoke volumes about your politics in this life. For instance many ordinary Jews believed in a resurrection of the dead. On the day of Judgement God would raise poor and marginalised along with the holy martyrs. They and only they would share in the kingdom of the Messiah where heaven and earth are merged into a new Jerusalem. The ruling elite, the Sadduces, refuted this and the Gospels tell us clearly that they did not believe in the resurrection of the dead. In playing it political and theologically safe the Romans allowed them to remain in power. In this light, we can see why Jesus' teaching on the resurrection, judgement, and his own Easter event, where hot potatoes.

Our 21st Century Western way of life could not be more different. But there is a sense in which a healthy Christian vision of the after-life has been sidelined in our consumerist culture. There is a little bit of the Sadducees still in our mindset. Marx sneered at religion by saying that it was the opium, the drug, of society. But is not our consumerism which is real drug, the opium which passifies us, stops us from being truly ourselves?

For me belief in the resurrection of the dead is about seeing purpose and direction in this present life as well as the next. It is about understanding that God will conquer, good will previal over evil and to quote Jesus' mother, the lowly will be exalted and the mighty brought down.

Spirituality

Many people go to spiritualists to seek comfort and get messages from the dead. Personally I largely think this is a parlour trick and a money making exercise. I also think its dangerous to dabble in the occult. However, my main gripe with these people is that they offer the most bland version of the next life. The souls largely appear to be drifting in a rather diffuse airport lounge. God is nowhere to be seen and there is certaily no mention of Jesus or the Holy Spirit. There is no also judgement so we can all expect to bump into Adolf Hitler and like Basil Fawlty we must remember 'not to mention the war'.

People are aching for spirituality. Major church studies have revealed this over and over again. And so it is important for Christians to speak spiritually, just as Jesus did. What this means is that we must touch people's hearts, open their imagination and enchant them with the Gospel. So when people ask us about death, even our own dying, our own funeral, we can inspire them. We can speak of death as St Francis did, as a friend, a brother. We can describe death as part of our spiritual journey into the heart of God. We can hopefully move hearts by describing just how much God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, wants to embrace the depth of our being for all eternity.

Healing

A more positive outlook, a deeper spirituality rooted in the Christian truths can but give us comfort and strength in grieving, dying and putting together a funeral service. We cannot glibly ignore pain, suffering and grief. These are part and parcel of life and there is no Easter without Good Friday. It is true that Christians in the first millennium wore white instead of black. But even in this wonderful act of faith they did not squash grief. Not only did the grieve for the deceased but they grieved for the world, that it is was not as yet as it should be.

Personally I have to say how humbled I am when I hear of how numerous folk cope bravely with bereavement. All my ideas and opinions feel like nothing in the presence of these spiritual giants. I just cannot begin to put myself in some of these situations and I only hope and pray that if such an occasion arose the Holy Spirit would hold tight on to me.

If the outside culture seeks spirituality how true it is that there is a contemporary hunger for healing. I know that this is where the Church can speak of the living Lord reaching out to us with an invitation for authentic healing. Not the quick fix of the spiritualist, or the anodine gospel of consumerism but genuine search for healing and wholeness in Jesus Christ.

Let me give you an example. Many people who have lost someone find that the first two weeks are unreal and hectic; a whirlwind of preparations and busy-ness. But afterwards everything can go quiet. If we are honest the British are not very good at mourning and we bottle it all up. When my grandfather, who adopted me, died my schoolmates tiptoed around me and some even crossed the road to avoid me. From a young age we are inculturated into dismissing the reality of death. And so we often need counsellors to accompany us through grief because others will not or cannot.

Yet the good news is that death can be healing. We should not ignore it but embrace it as we should embrace grieving. Death can be part of our transformation, the gateway to experiencing the resurrection with all the saints, and the indescribable joy of God's presence. Now in meanwhile with hearts open to the Spirit we can taste paradise NOW in the broken bread laid before us, Good Friday made into Easter, the Holy Eucharist.

The Vicarage Garden Looks Good from Outer Space

In January the family and I will be moving from Aberdeen to Salcombe where I will become Vicar of Salcombe, Malborough with South Huish, Devon. This will be a really major move involving us travelling 650 miles! The thought of the logistics of moving (with two little children) is a bit of head spin but we are really looking forward to settling in the West Country.

I grew up in Devon and left home at 19 to study IT at Kent, Canterbury. Having married, Frances, an Aberdonian I moved up to Scotland and have had a fantastic seven years up here. Presently I am priest-in-charge of St Clements Scottish Episcopal Church http://www.orangesandlemons.org.uk/ and chaplain to the Robert Gordon University www.rgu.ac.uk/chaplaincy - all in the Granite city. So in a way coming back to Devon is like travelling full-circle.

Frances was not able to join me for the interview in September for very good reasons. She had just given birth to our daughter, Francesca. Little Francesca surprised us all by coming 7 weeks early. So at the interview and tour I took my new digital camera and snapped up over a hundred photos to share once back in Aberdeen. Last week I discovered Google Maps and a new perspective on Salcombe - several hundred miles down! In my excitement I was able to spot the vicarage and, yes, the gardening team are doing brilliant job.

There's probably a sermon on a God's eye point of view - but thats for another day. Meanwhile I must get back to this Sunday's muse, a reflection on the theme of All Souls. This Sunday I consciously must not stare at people while preaching on the next life. One 94 year old member joked with me that he felt uneasy about me looking at him as I elucidated on the theme of 'a happy funeral'.

http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?oe=UTF-8&hl=en&tab=wl&q=