Showing posts with label Suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suffering. Show all posts

Sunday, February 03, 2013

INTO THE TEMPLE


FEAST OF THE PRESENTATION OF CHRIST IN THE TMEPLE
Sermon preached in the Church of All Saints, New Eltham
at Parish Mass on Sunday, 3rd February 2013

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INTRODUCTION
It may seem a long time ago but it’s just five weeks since we were preparing the cold turkey, nursing a slight hangover and clearing up the wrapping paper.  Now there’re chocolate crème eggs in Sainsburys and the holiday brochures are out.  But, before we completely forget Christmas, the Church remembers this final celebration in our great cycle of Feasts which throw light onto the coming of God among us. 

Today, we celebrate Candlemass (which actually fell yesterday, on February 2nd), that old-English name which recalls that ‘Christ is the light of the nations and the glory of his people’.  The light has come into the world and darkness is, never again, going to triumph. 

In olden days people brought to church the candles they were to use through the year to have them blessed and still we process them round the church.  Since the year 542, when the Emperor Justinian introduced the feast to the entire Eastern Roman empire, Christians have recalled that fifty days after his birth Jesus was first acclaimed as the light of all people.   For centuries it has been held as the day in which the seasons begin to change.  In America it is known as Groundhog Day and here in England farmers believed that the remainder of winter would be the opposite of whatever the weather was like on Candlemas Day (last year it snowed). 

However, this morning, what I want us to think about is that word – Presentation and to spend a few minutes reflecting on Mary and Joseph’s offering of their first-born child as a present to God, for that is the basis of all we celebrate today.

A PRESENT TO GOD
Last week we celebrated Matthew’s baptism and Fr. Derek, in his sermon, spoke about the giving of presents.  Now the giving of presents is an act that is rich in meaning.  It can be as simple as a rose to the one you love on Valentine’s Day, or as profound as the giving of a nation by one ruler to another.  But in the case of the presentation of a child in the Temple it concerns the recognition, through the offering of a life, that all life belongs to God.  That there is a higher power and a higher good to whom we are all accountable.

Life is a gift for which we are thankful, so this presentation is a joyful act by parents who want to offer that which is their most prized gift to the highest good.  God.  I guess that’s what lies, in some way, behind why people bring their children for baptism.  They want to identify their precious new life with that which is the greatest good.  So the Christening of a baby needs to involve a desire to be associated with God, the source of all good.  The source of life.  It’s a reminder that each of us is called to have our heart set on God.  In 2010 Pope Benedict chose to entitle his visit to our country ‘Heart speaks to heart’, a phrase which comes from the motto of Blessed John Henry Newman who was himself clearly inspired by words of St. Francis de Sales: “Eyes speak to eyes, and heart to heart, and none understand what passes save the sacred lovers who speak.”

The profound love of Mary and Joseph was a love rooted in their relationship with God and that, brothers and sisters, is what you and I are called to nurture.

OFFERING AND SACRIFICE
But there is, of course, a cost to all this.  And that cost has to do with sacrifice.  On the one hand we celebrate God’s being among us, but we are also reminded that it will require the giving of a life.  Today, a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.  Later, the offering of a life on a tree on Calvary.   We find the combination of life and death so difficult to hold together, yet our Faith constantly proclaims that we need to accept this, apparently shocking, contradiction.  

THOSE WHO OFFER THEIR LOVE
So Mary and Joseph present – offer – their child, their first-born, to God.    And when you offer something, of course, it’s no longer entirely yours.  What a risk!  Especially with God. 
And the reality of that must have been brought home to Mary when the prophetess, Anna, made that astonishing statement: “And a sword will pierce your own soul, too.”  But, come to think of it, it’s not so astonishing.  For there are times when the heart of every mother, I guess, is pierced through and all they can do is to stand by their child.  Times when all you can do is to stand by the person you love knowing that you are helpless. 

Yet this child, whose life would last only thirty-something years, is also declared to be the saviour of the world: “My eyes”, says Simeon, “have seen the salvation which God has prepared for all the nations to see.”  So we are presented, yet again, by this painful paradox of death and life, of having to let go of something that life may break forth. 

And here we encounter the way in which todays Feast speaks to us all for it concerns the way in which we are to present our-selves at the Holy of Holies: how God wants each of us to stand before Him in that place of encounter having offered our deepest desires to Him.  This Temple in which we celebrate today is the sacrament – the outward form – of the Temple of the Heart where God invites each of us to encounter Him.  And that is, always, a painful process.  Our Faith is no cosy escape from the world: we don’t come to Mass to escape the harsh realities of life: rather we enter this Temple, celebrate this Mass, because – maybe dimly – we recognise that here we encounter what life is all about.  (Heart speaks to heart.)  Life is not a roller-coaster of fun and games punctuated by pain and loss that intrude like unwelcome and shocking visitors to our party.  Being alive means being able to celebrate the complexity of it all – realising that you will only know the full glory of what life is all about if you are prepared to face the pain, at times, head on and allow yourself to pass through that most bitter place. 

That’s why, in that Letter to the Hebrews we heard read, the writer said: “(Jesus) had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God …”

CONCLUSION
So Simeon and Anna witnessed the entrance of God’s anointed One, his Christ, into his own Temple.  Into the Holy of Holies, the sacred place.  And his parents brought him there, not so that he would be protected from all danger and harm (though, as parents, that must have been their dearest wish) but because they knew they had to present him to their Lord and God.  And God couldn’t – wouldn’t – protect him.   Rather God had to begin experiencing what it was like to be human.  Stunning that, don’t you think?  God, the all-powerful Creator, limits himself to our condition so that he, the source of all Wisdom, could know what it was like to be human.  And to be human means to be vulnerable and to fall, to suffer pain and loss – and to die. 
And God will experience all that.  This is only the beginning.  Perhaps, come to think of it, the reason why I am a Christian is to be discovered in today’s celebration. 

Because God chose to be like me.  How amazing! 
Because he invites me to enter the Temple of my heart and offer all that I hold dear there so that I might encounter Him and, in doing so, be given in return the gift of life. 
Because he shows me that to live is to embrace the whole of life, even those bits I would rather be saved from. 

This final celebration of the season of the Incarnation jolts us back to the reality of life.  Thanks be to God.



Sunday, January 20, 2013

THE SIGN OF CHANGE


2nd SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (Yr. C)
Sermon preached in the Church of S. John Chrysostom, Peckham
at Parish Mass on Sunday, 20th January 2013

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‘Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana in Galilee,
and the disciples believed in him’ (John 2:11)
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INTRODUCTION
It was, by any stretch of the imagination, a miracle. Something dreamt about but hard to conceive in reality and now to be repeated.  President Obama will, this morning, once again be inaugurated as President of the United States, affirming the immense change that has occurred in that country.  A sign of not just for the United States, but for the whole world. 

His Inauguration Address in 2009 was inspirational.  Yet whilst it invited its hearers to recall the greatness of the American dream, it reminded them of the cost all must bear.  “The time has come”, he said, “to reaffirm our enduring spirit; to choose our better history; to carry forward that precious gift, that noble idea, passed on from generation to generation: the God-given promise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of happiness.”

In a time of global fear there is always the temptation to look for a saviour; one who will – at a stroke – solve every problem.  Well, Obama hasn’t proved to be a saviour but the slow process of change has begun in the US.  Few believed it would be easy to change a country at a stroke even though many wished it were.  And tomorrow there will be a sign that the struggle for change is not only possible but is desired and happening. 

THE FIRST SIGN
Today’s gospel reading is all about change and set in this season of new beginnings heralded by the Incarnation.  The changing of water into wine seems, at first sight, to be a ‘miracle’ – something hardly expected yet coming at the right moment.  Yet to think of this as a miracle would be to miss the point: this is a sign, the “first” of the signs by which the glory of Jesus was revealed.  And the purpose of the sign was to bring about belief that, in Jesus, change was possible: that all might share in the glory of God.

The account itself is unusual for here we have Jesus, in the middle of a wedding party, turning the contents of six water-jars, which would each have held 20 to 30 gallons, into wine.  This is abundance in the extreme and, in part, serves as a ‘sign’ of God’s abundance towards his people.   That’s why this isn’t just a miracle story, for miracles can usually be seen for what they are.  This account needs to be seen with the eye of the heart and the layers to it need to be patiently unfolded.  So, what are we to make of it?  Let’s look at three aspects – revelation, suffering and glory.

GOD’S REVELATION
I mentioned that this reading has been set in the season of new beginnings heralded by God becoming flesh through the Incarnation.  The Church has always placed three events into the context of this revelation – first, the revelation of Christ to the gentile world through the visit of the Magi; then, secondly, the Baptism of Christ when God acclaims him as his “Beloved Son”, and lastly the first sign recorded in John’s gospel.  John, of course, has no account of the Incarnation; no stories about the birth of Jesus.  He begins his account with that statement: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” and goes on to say: “The Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only Son, full of grace and truth.” 

For John ‘seeing’ who Jesus is, and believing in him, is crucial.  So Jesus’ first public act is connected with a sign of his glory.  Through him, God’s abundance towards us is seen.  Can we grasp that truth?  Can we see that in Christ there lies this abundant compassion, mercy and benevolence towards us?  Can we see it with the eye of the heart and, if we can, how does that understanding change us?  As we reflect on this sign one might almost adapt President Obama’s words: “The time has come” to ask ourselves, “How does believing in God’s promise of abundant life change me?”

THE SUFFERING OF CHRIST
Secondly we need to recall that odd exchange between Jesus and his mother when she tells him that the wine has run out and his reply: “Woman, what have you to do with me?  My hour has not yet come.”  So often, Jesus seems to treat his mother in a strange way.  Not as we might treat our mothers but as some sort of symbolic figure:  “Who is my mother … Whoever does the will of God is … my mother.” 

So, what might Jesus have meant when he said ‘My hour has not yet come’?  To what ‘hour’ was he alluding?  Many who have studied this passage have seen a deep connection with the ‘hour’ of his crucifixion.  ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.’ (John 12:23)

Jesus spoke those words six days before his crucifixion when the disciples, Andrew and Philip, brought some Greeks to talk with Jesus.  He went on to say:  “Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”  So at this hour of celebration with those attending the wedding banquet, Jesus is aware that abundant life comes at a price. 

In placing this sign in the context of a wedding, John identifies it with the promise of new life symbolised through a wedding.   Just as two people are united in marriage, so you and I are invited to be united with Jesus and enter into a new life in him.

THE PROMISE OF GLORY
For centuries that has been the desire and that has been the prayer of Christians – to be at one with Christ in a life like his.  There is a beautiful prayer, originating from the Church of South India, which expresses this desire:
Merciful God,
in Christ you make all things new.
Transform the poverty of our nature
            by the riches of your grace,
and in the renewal of our lives
make known your heavenly glory.

Weddings are all about union and change.  About two becoming one and about revealing glory in their lives as that process takes place.  And for John the glory of God would finally be seen in the crucifixion of Jesus: “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you, since you have given him authority over all people, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do. So now, Father, glorify me in your own presence with the glory that I had in your presence before the world existed.”

For John the crucifixion of Christ is the moment of complete abandonment which unites the Son with the Father and heaven with earth.  And, in that union, lies the glory of God: “Father, I desire that those also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory, which you have given me because you loved me before the foundation of the world.”

CONCLUSION
In and through Christ God makes all things new.  There is the promise of new life for me and for you.  What matters is our desire for union with him.  The ‘sign’ whereby Jesus turns water into wine can be seen as merely a remarkable event.  Just like the re-election of a black president.  Or it can be understood as the sign of a fundamental change and the promise of future glory. 

Often I meet with people who face a crisis in their lives and struggle with the consequences.  For many, this moment of crisis leads them to see that they need to address their relationship with God – to delve beneath the surface turmoil and seek a way of relating with God that touches their real need.  To be at one with themselves and with Him who holds out the promise of wholeness – of glory.  And it all depends on how we face such moments of crisis, either seeing them as opportunities for something new to emerge, or to react against them.  This first ‘sign’ that Jesus performs at Cana caused His Mother to reflect and led the disciples into a new relationship with Him.  What do you see in this sign?  How does it affect you?  Can the ‘water’ of your life be transformed into the ‘wine’ of new life?

Merciful God, in Christ you make all things new.
Transform the poverty of our nature by the riches of your grace,
and in the renewal of our lives make known your heavenly glory. Amen.

Monday, January 25, 2010

HAITI, SUFFERING AND GOD

There can be few people around the world who have not been deeply touched by the plight of the victims of the earthquake in Haiti. And, as a consequence, the old question has arisen – ‘How could God allow such suffering?’

SUFFERING AND A GOD OF LOVE

The fact of all human suffering when magnified to the scale that we see on our TV screens each night moves us to experience a range of feelings – compassion, revulsion, horror, sympathy and so on. How could a God of love allow such a dreadful thing to happen? And, it seems to me, the answer can only be that God has no option. True, there can be miracles: there are occasions when it seems there has been a miraculous intervention to avert tragedy or to save someone from disaster.

But the problem is, as far as I can tell, that if we accept that freedom lies at the heart of what it means to be human – indeed, what it means to be alive – than any intervention in the consequences of that freedom negates the principle. Therefore it must be true that our freedom comes at a cost. God cannot dictate to us or control us. That is the essence of love. But we affirm that God doesn’t stand aside and simply let things happen. He is also involved.

Of all the monotheistic religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, our faith alone affirms that God entered into our humanity. That is what we celebrate each Christmas – the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. So God in Christ shares in the lot of humankind and, as we believe, that involved experiencing suffering and death, which is what we meditate on and proclaim each Passiontide. God loved us so much he could do no other. That is the mystery of our faith and anathema to others. In the face of suffering we do not say – ‘it is the will of God’ for God does not ‘will’ that anyone suffers. We can only say that suffering lies in the will of God – it has its place. But God could never will that an individual suffers and whatever stories seem to contradict that statement (e.g. the sufferings of Job) must be viewed as the fact that God, at times allows suffering to happen. But, in terms of suffering within the scriptures, we always need to look at the reason why.

SUFFERING AND CREATION

The fact is we live in a world which constantly suffers. That is part of the human condition. Indeed, it is part of the condition of the whole of creation. Creation, as St. Paul reminded us, is constantly groaning and struggling “as in the pains of childbirth” (Roms. 8: 18ff). Why?

Our world is constantly growing and changing. The very aspects of nature that move us – clouds and tides, mountains and oceans – exist because creation is in movement. Our world is alive! Tectonic plates shift because creation is not static. It is in flux. And the tragedy and glory we experience is a consequence of our world being alive.

Just think for a moment what the world would be like if that were not so. If there were not glory or tragedy. What range of feelings and emotions would we be denied if we did not experience these and how our humanity would be affected if all were static and lifeless. For to be alive does involve change and, as most of us realise, that can be a painful process. I do not know what it is like to be a woman, but I wonder what effect it would have on us if childbirth were painless? How might I experience those profound qualities of compassion and empathy? How would we know true that depth of love which finds its expression when the one we love suffers? To be fully alive means we need, somehow, to integrate pain and sorrow, joy and health. As has been pointed out, healing is not about the elimination of pain but how we live with and through it.

CONCLUSION

I am deeply moved by the consequences of that earthquake in Haiti. By tsunami’s and floods, droughts and eruptions. I stand in awe of the way nature cannot be overcome but needs to express its life. For every mighty crashing wave means there is the potential for death. I also stand in awe of the way in which we never quite learn. After the Great Earthquake in San Francisco in 1906 the city was rebuilt, and its inhabitants wait. We are tied to the earth as it is at one with us. All of us, human and beast, animate and inanimate objects, are part of this amazing, frightening, marvellous and terrifying world. We are part of creation and within each of us lies those same forces of creation and destruction. I cannot give any answer to why God allows suffering. But, fearfully, I sense it has its part to play.

Christiansneed to reflect upon the way we are called to grow more fully into our humanity. To realise that pain and suffering have their place within the human – and creative – condition. And to realise that our Creator God holds within divinity those forces which can also destroy. And, just as God had to ‘learn’ how to integrate those forces, we also need to learn how to integrate them.