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Worcester College 5.6.16

Mark 4.1-20

 

Jesus’ parable of the sower is among the most familiar stories in the New Testament. A sower goes out to sow, and doesn’t seem terribly bothered about how he does it. The seed falls all over the place – some along the path, which seems particularly careless, some on rocky ground, some among thorns, and some in good soil. At the time of his throwing out the seed, the sower is making no attempt to pay attention to the spot at which every single seed falls. He is scattering, putting it out there, laying the groundwork for lots of possibilities. The results of his work will not be visible for quite some time. But, whilst it is the case that only one in four of the situations results in the bearing of fruit, the quantities of fruit which come about – thirty, sixty, a hundredhold – leave the sower in no doubt of the success of his task.

 

Now unfortunately for you who are listening, this gospel passage is one which always reminds me of my enthusiasm for the arcane delights of German New Testament scholarship. And since I stand before you as one employed by this college to teach the obscurities of theology to our splendid undergraduates, the temptation to indulge that enthusiasm is strong. It is a temptation which reminds me of my favourite PG Wodehouse story, The Great Sermon Handicap, in which a group of young men are running a book on the length of various pulpit orations. Some of them are so determined to keep a particular preacher’s efforts as extended as possible that they urge him absolutely not to omit his “rather exhaustive excursus on the family life of the early Assyrians.”

 

My equivalent would be the riveting details of first century Jewish agriculture. The question is this: which comes first, sowing or ploughing? It seems odd to ask. Surely one ploughs a field first before planting it. Well, that’s the case now and in England, but there’s some evidence that in the time and the place of Jesus’ life and ministry, the opposite was the case. And this, for some New Testament scholars, provides the key to the parable of the sower. The extraordinary abandon with which the sower casts his seed is explained by the process which will follow, whereby that seed will be ploughed into the land which is churned up to make it, or at least some of it, fertile. The seeds are thrown all over the place, but it is the subsequent violence of the ploughing which enables some of it to bear fruit. The parallels with the gospel message would then seem clear: the word is spread broadly, but the world in which it is spread is approaching the crisis of God’s judgement, a crisis which in Mark’s gospel is played out through the passion and death of Jesus Christ. At the end of the gospel we are left with an empty tomb but an open ended climax: the women who come in search of Jesus’ body are greeted with the news of the resurrection but they turn and run away in fear. The fruit of the gospel has yet to be harvested.

 

Far be it from me as a theology lecturer to downplay the importance of scholarship, but that reading might be said to qualify for as part of what Basil Fawlty describes as his wife’s specialist subject: the bleeding obvious. And it’s not clear that the details of the farming process make very much difference. The text is unequivocal that the sowing is done in a rather free for all manner, and that much of the seed is lost. Some, however, springs up in quite extraordinary abundance. Sevenfold was reckoned a good yield, but we have thirty and sixty and a hundred fold. It’s the growth which matters. The parables of Jesus are littered with this basic image of something small and unseen, something secret and unknown, manifesting itself as something new and striking, even entirely unexpected. The contrast between the before and the after is marked and remarkable, but the process itself is likely to be unnoticed.

 

As we come to the end of an academic year, and for some the end of an Oxford career, we will likely find ourselves reflecting upon all sorts of examples of growth and change, of events and ideas and experiences which are past, but which bear fruit in our lives and will continue so to do. The image of faith which the parables present is very far from the arid epistemological calculus of the new atheism, whereby religious faith is held to consist in the act of assenting to a series of propositions, rather as one might check off one’s list of necessities in Tescos or, perhaps more likely, try to remember what was on the list which we left on the desk in our room back in college. Christian faith is not so much something which is thought as something which is done, a way of living within, and looking around, the reality we call the world, a way which allows us to focus the journey of our lives not simply on ourselves but on something infinitely beyond ourselves, something which will – paradoxically – point us back to where we are and direct our attention to the needs of the other whom we cannot but encounter if we are engaged with the business of being human.

 

The seeds of such faith are unlikely to be noticed when sown. The effects of such faith are unlikely to be perceived as they begin to grow. Among the hardest lessons we have to learn is the truth that our determination for control, our desire to be in charge of everything about ourselves, is a false hope for something impossible. Having the courage to let go, to accept the gift of the other, the infinite possibility of relationship, the opportunity to give as well as receive, is a lesson in wisdom which Christian faith will teach as it searches out the truth of what it is to be a disciple, a word which means simply one who learns. The disciples are those who have the privilege of knowing the mystery, or the secret of the kingdom of God. The secret that manifests itself not in the instant of beginnings but in the gradual manifestation, the coming to fruition, which is the end of the journey of faith.

 

Growing in that faith, being taught the love of God, is something of which we will not be aware in the moment. But there will be glimpses to encourage our desire, there will be epiphanies, flashes of the extraordinary which engage us on the journey, signs of hope, acts of healing, moments of kindness, words of love. Above all, however, it will be the ordinary, the mundane, the unnoticed, in which we will do our growing. The things on which we look back, the patterns we see forming as we piece our lives together, are the gifts which open our eyes to the ever widening horizon towards which we are directed. The seeds of love are scattered far and wide, but they bear fruit thirty, sixty and a hundred fold.

Worcester College Oxford

29/5/16

Genesis 4. 1-16

Mark 3. 7-19

Doing the right thing

 

The 400th anniversary this year

of the death of William Shakespeare

has meant that it’s been a pretty busy time

in Stratford-upon-Avon the last few months.

 

We’ve found ourselves to be the focus of media attention

from around the globe,

have hosted royalty and stars of stage and screen,

all wanting to pay tribute to

Stratford’s most famous son.

 

There’s no evidence of

the actual dates of Shakespeare’s birth or death,

but what we do know,

are the dates of his baptism and his burial-

because they’re both recorded

in the Parish Register of Holy Trinity Church.

His baptism took place in the church on

26th April 1564

and his Burial

25th April 1616

 

It may seem an odd coincidence

that these dates are so close to each other.

-in fact the assumption has been made

that he was born and died on the same day,

23rd April.

 

But a possible explanation is provided by

an entry in the dairy of one of my predecessors,

the Vicar of Holy Trinity at the time,

 

suggesting that Shakespeare’s death

at the age of 54

was caused by a fever

brought about by drinking too much

whilst out celebrating his birthday with his friends.

Let this be a warning to us all!

 

400 years later, the popularity of Shakespeare’s work

continues to grow.

Over 250,000 people come every year

to visit his grave in Holy Trinity Church

and his plays continue to find

new audiences across the world.

 

One reason for this is surely

that Shakespeare’s drama

engages with the most fundamental

of human emotions and experiences:

love, hate, revenge, jealously,

mistakes, regret,

humour, joy, sorrow, victory, defeat.

Whether it’s a comedy, tragedy or history,

all of human life seems to be there, laid bare.

 

Our first lesson this evening,

from the book of Genesis,

contains some pretty raw human emotion

that wouldn’t be out of place

in a Shakespearean tragedy.

 

Between two brothers,

Cain and Abel, the sons of Adam and Eve,

there is at first jealousy,

then anger,

deception, murder

and finally a curse.

 

It’s not clear at first why,

but Cain gets things disastrously wrong.

Whilst the offering of his younger brother

is accepted by God,

Cain’s “fruit of the ground” is not received.

 

Cain’s failure to do the right thing

leads to his life unravelling:

he becomes homeless, without means

and estranged from his family.

 

The story of our own lives

might not be quite so dramatic,

but doing the right thing

-or rather a desire to avoid making a mess of things-

must surely be important to most of us.

 

But how can we know

what we are to do with our lives,

what decisions to take,

especially then they will affect our future?

What does it look like

for us to be doing the right thing in our lives?

 

 

 

 

A palliative care nurse

who counsels the dying in their last days

recently recorded the most common regrets

people have expressed at the end of their lives.

 

She observed the phenomenal clarity of vision

that people gain in these moments,

and put her observations into a book called

The Top Five Regrets of the Dying.

 

One of the regrets was: I wish that I had let myself be happier.

 

Apparently, fear of change causes

people to pretend to others,

and to themselves, that they’re content,

when deep within,

they long to laugh properly

and have silliness in their life again.

 

But the most common regret she records is this:

I wish I’d had the courage to live a life

true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

 

How, then might we achieve some clarity

about how we should live our lives,

before it’s too late to do anything about it?

 

One answer lies in our second lesson.

Jesus has an important decision to make

which will profoundly affect the future.

 

He needs to get this right,

because he’s to choose his closest companions,

those who will continue his mission after he’s gone.

But before he calls his disciples

he goes up a mountain.

Mountains are important in the Bible,

they have a strong symbolic value.

Think of Moses on mount Sinai

and the giving of the ten commandments,

The sermon on the mount.

The Transfiguration, and so the list goes on.

In cultures where God was believed to dwell in the heavens, that it is the sky,

going up a mountain signifies being closer to God;

seeing things as God sees them,

finding a more expansive perspective

than our usual human experience allows.

 

One of the good things about living in Stratford

is that the Cotswold hills are not far away.

I love to sand on the western edge of the hills

looking out across the expanse

of the plain of the River Severn

towards the distant Malvern hills the other side.

 

The small details of our lives

especially the things that weigh us down,

can seem less of a burden when we look out

from a great height.

 

With our perspective opened up

we can perhaps more readily perceive

what is the right thing to do.

 

Many people encounter

as sense of being nearer to God

in these high places,

where the veil between heaven and earth seems thin.

 

In these moments,

we might recall the words of tonight’s psalm:

“mine age is even as nothing in respect of thee”.

 

I also find it helpful

to recall some words of another psalm:

“Be still, and know that I am God”

 

When we need to make a decision

about the right thing to do,

 

when we seek to know more clearly

who we are meant to be,

then we need to find a mountain moment.

 

And if you don’t happen to have a mountain

close at hand

then try using those words

to focus your mind and heart on God.

Be still, and know that I am God

 

You can use this simple phrase as a spiritual exercise

which helps us to discover the truth

about God and about ourselves,

by gradually shortening the phrase.

 

Be still, and know that I am God

Be still, and know that I am

Be still, and know

Be still

Be.

 

 

Our fundamental calling,

is simply to be.

To be, not in isolation,

but to be

in perfect relationship with God and with others.

 

We see this in the calling of the disciples

in our second lesson.

It’s another three chapters before Jesus actually sends the apostles out to do anything.

Until then they remain with him,

discovering what it means to be fully alive

and in relationship with God.

 

So it turns out that doing the right thing

begins with being not doing.

 

Even in those times when we’re hard pressed

with tasks to be done,

-perhaps exams to sit

or a looming deadline,

we still need moments when we can just be,

time to recall that

who we are

and what we must do

begin with God.

 

The classic film Chariots of Fire

with that famous scene of the athletes

running along a beach

to the music of Vangelis,

tells the story of the Scottish athlete Eric Liddel,

who competed in the 1924 olympic games.

 

 

Liddel, devout Scottish Presbyterian

declares

“if I win I win for God”.

 

Later on he says:

“God made me for a purpose.

When I run I feel his pleasure”

 

Ultimately our fulfilment is to be found when

doing our own thing

is the same as doing Gods thing,

when God’s pleasure becomes our pleasure.

 

When Cain offered his work to God, it was rejected. Perhaps he had failed to understand

what God wanted of him.

The land on which his produce grew

had previously been cursed by God,

following the trespass of his parents

in the garden of Eden.

Perhaps Cain might have sensed

that his offering was not right

if he had given himself some space

to be still and focus on God.

 

When we’re faced with decisions

about who we are to be and what we are to do,

there is no better place to start

than to recognise

the presence of the God who loves us as we are.

Be still, and know that I am God

 

By developing habits of prayer,

creating those mountain moments

which can be anywhere, any time,

we can discover

who God created us to be,

and what God created us for.

 

We find our true fulfilment

when being true to myself

becomes the same thing

as being true to God’s purposes for me.

 

I don’t pretend for a moment

that this is easy or straightforward.

 

When I was an undergraduate

I felt sure I was meant to be an engineer.

Eventually I realised that this was not the path

I was meant to take,

but it took me a while to work it out!

 

We nudge forward trying to make sense of

the unpredictable drama that is our lives.

The tragedies, joys and sorrows we experience

can often feel more like stumbling in the mist

rather than enjoying the view

from the top of the mountain.

The Christian spiritual writer Christina Rees,

reflecting on the story of her own faith, puts it like this:

 

“There has been no sense of arrival,

just the sense of knowing myself

to be on the right path.

I have no idea where the path will continue to lead,

only the confidence in the One who is leading.”

 

Whether or not our lives reflect

the drama of a Shakespearian play,

if we wish to have the courage

to live a life true to who we are meant to be,

rather than the life others expect of us,

then our story must begin and end with God’s story,

with the one who created us,

his Son who redeems us

and the Spirit who sustains us:

 

Be still, and know that I am God.

___________________________________________

 

 

Worcester College Chapel, Oxford 22nd May 2016

Trinity Sunday Ex. 3.1-15; Jn. 3.1-17

LIVING THE TRINITY

INTRODUCTION

Thank you for inviting me. Good to be back in Oxford and to be with you in Worcester Chapel.

Playing golf yesterday with one of the leaders of the Reformed Jews who asked about my sermon for today – what’s the Trinity? I explained it is why we are not Jewish!

A mixture of plurality and unity is at the heart of our faith in God as Trinity – three persons in one God.

Problem is that the Trinity seems very complicated – impression of threeness and oneness – but not much else. Many Christians are like that. Even the BCP talks in the old Athanasian Creed of the ‘father incomprehensible, the Son incomprehensible and the Holy Ghost – yet not three incomprehensibles’. Of course, you know that ‘incomprehensible’ = limitless, infinite rather than not able to be understood – yet many people do find the Trinity incomprehensible – in terms of sects, Jehovah’s Witness & Mormons. Also, it is what distinguishes us from the other great monotheistic religions of the Book, Judaism and Islam. Whatever the different Christian traditions, we share the distinctive faith in God the Holy Trinity, Father, Son and Holy Spirit – as seen in our readings and hymns.

Even some Christians, if we are honest, find the Trinity hard to understand. But what does it actually all mean, for us here in Chapel? You see, I do not want to talk about the theology of the Trinity, (you may be relieved to hear) but about the experience of God as Trinity in our worship and Christian life. The early church did not come up with the idea of the Trinity as a doctrine with which to befuddle future generations. They discovered in their Christian experience God as Father, known in Jesus of Nazareth and still present with them through his Spirit. The Trinity is to be experienced and worshipped before we come to doctrinal or theological debate. 2

A helpful Grove Spirituality booklet – Peter Adam, Living the Trinity, has greatly influenced my thinking over the years. He looks at the different Christian traditions and talks of three kinds of churches – Father, Son Holy Spirit. He suggest that many churches concentrate on one person of the Trinity in their life and experience which affects worship, beliefs and behaviour.

1 CHURCH OF THE FATHER

Amazing and wonderful scope of his vision of God the Father – everything starts with the Father and returns to him.

Stress God as Father, pater, of all patria, creator of Universe, care for the world. Stress on Transcendence.

God’s revelation to Moses in burning bush – name ‘I am’ – existence.

Hymns like Immortal, invisible, O Worship the king.

Concern for all life – catholic in the best and broadest sense – according to the whole – kath’ holos – holistic approach to all people of good will, annual services for different local groups, brotherhood of all human beings. No boundaries, inclusive.

The Eucharist will be central – seen as thanksgiving and offering of the whole of life to God – glorified Harvest Festival every week!.

Does this ring any bells? My curacy at Bromley – civic church. True also inevitably of a University Chapel – King’s or here in Worcester – involved in many areas of University life.

Positive aspects – but there is another side of the coin; strong on the Father, less allowance for the Son and Spirit. Strong on creation, weak on human sin. Strong on grace and love, but less on salvation through the death of God the Son, or the disturbing energy of God the Holy Spirit.

“It will be embarrassed by a sermon on the sinfulness of man and annoyed at a gospel which lets prostitutes into the Kingdom before respectable people . . . ‘decently and in order’ is the absolute test of worship, and any interruption of Matins by the Spirit would produce a horrified silence, followed by lengthy disapproval over Sunday lunch” (Peter Adam, p. 8)

2 CHURCH OF THE SON

Several versions depending on which aspect of Jesus – Christ the radical, the sufferer. 3

Fervent commitment to person of Jesus of Nazareth, prayers and hymns addressed to him

How sweet the name of Jesus in a believer’s ear.

O Jesus, I have promised

Stress on need for personal response to Christ’s death on the cross, salvation – believer.

John 3.3 – ‘born again’; 3.16-17 ‘God so loved the world’

Eucharist becomes the Lord’s Supper – stress on the saving and atoning death of Jesus.

Clear sense of those who are Christians – and those who are not boundaries, not vague and wishy washy like the inclusive Church of the Father.

Leads to a real commitment to evangelism and mission at the risk of suffering or persecution.

If Father is best seen in catholic, then the Son in the evangelical tradition.

Weaknesses:

Strong sense of identity can lead to isolation, even holy huddle

Mission restricted just to preaching, no social action and serving the whole community as in church of Father.

The warm response and devotion to Jesus and his salvation may lead to not getting hands dirty in real world.

If Father is true of University chapels, many of the student churches are churches of the Son – centrality of Jesus.

3 CHURCH OF THE HOLY SPIRIT

Holy Spirit traditionally the neglected person the Trinity – partly because of the stress in NT of the HS bringing us to the Son and the Father.

Traditionally seen in Pentecostal churches – but recent renewal movements across all the mainline denominations means that you can find churches of the Spirit everywhere now.

Dynamic and lively worship – stress on Immanence.

Back to John 3: vv 6-8 ‘born of Spirit, wind blows where it chooses’

Lots of different people inspired to participate – share gifts of God

powerful and miraculous signs of God;s presence.

Eucharist is really only a warm up for the real free worship to follow, while communion is probably discovered in the fellowship over coffee afterwards

Weakness – can fall into sensationalism, a neglect of the quiet, missing presence of God in ordinary things of life, rather than the spectacular. 4

No need to go to doctor, just pray about it; believe six impossible things before breakfast.

To a certain extent this is true of our church in London now – seeking everything new – any songs over a year old are out, don’t bother to plan the worship, just let it happen. Can be good and lively, can be an excuse for terrible disorganization! Yet the converse it true – we can avoid the dangers by planning everything – and not being open to God the comforter and disturber, giver of life, whose tongues of flame and rushing wind upset our peace and quiet!

CONCLUSION – TRINITY IN UNITY

I wonder if these pen portraits have rung any bells. Think for a moment about your regular worship or church preference. How do you view the Eucharist or Communion. To whom are your usual hymns addressed? How do you respond to the community around – in service or evangelism or acts of power? Do you have a strong sense of boundaries as to who is a member or is it all rather fuzzy at the edges? What about your own personal spiritual life? do you respond to the steady moral demands of our Father in heaven, or in loving devotion to following Jesus, or go with the flow in unpredictable abandonment to the winds of the Spirit? Think about your favourite hymns or songs, or your prayers – and they will tell you a lot. I suspect that among us as individuals there will be all three traditions. So what are we to do?

One response is to look at our traditions. I have suggested that the church of the Father emerges from a catholic tradition, while that of the Son from evangelical and the Spirit from a Pentecostal or Charismatic. This does not necessarily mean the denominations – my three examples are all Anglican churches! This breadth of traditions is one of the gifts of the diverse life of God the Holy Trinity to the church – and it would be wrong to suggest that we solve the problem of this diversity by obliterating our differences and ways of worshipping into a dull grey lowest common denominator. That has been one of the problems affecting the ecumenical movement since its inception.

Another possible response is to use my simple caricatures to pigeonhole others – or yourself. After I had said some of the above in a previous sermon once, one rather grand lady confided to me on the way out of church that she was a ‘father Christian’. She was obviously very happy to put this label on herself and it explained to her why she could not stand all these fervent Son-Christians or happy clappy Spirit-Christians. 5

But neither the lowest common denominator, nor the pigeonholing approach will do. This is missing out on the richness and diverse fullness of the Trinity. Not a shallow agreement, nor a sticking on one edge enjoying our one bit – but entering into the whole lot. God the Holy Trinity is a diversity of persons in a unity of divine love – the everlasting dance of love which goes on between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – perichoresis – the whirling dance of love within the very heart of God – and he, not they, longs for us to be caught up into the dance.

In the end of the day we cannot be Father Christians, or churches of the Son, or Spirit congregations, but only Trinitarian Christians within the one church visible and invisible, militant here on earth and triumphant there in heaven.

That is why it is important that we come together in worship and in prayer to enrich each other and to learn from each other’s experience – and this is probably more fruitful as a way of recognizing the presence of the Trinitarian God in our unity than ecumenical doctrine commissions, important though they are. We all need to be a church of the Holy Trinity, trusting in our Father who made us and all the world, responding to Jesus Christ who died to save us and wants us to follow him rejoicing the power of the Holy Spirit so that all creation might transformed in the dance of love in the very heart of God.

And now,

To God the Father, who loved us and made us

accepted in the Beloved;

To God the Son, who loved us and loosed us

from our sins by his own blood;

TO God the Holy Spirit, who sheds the love of

God abroad in our hearts;

To the one true God be all love and all glory

in the church and the world

for all time and eternity, Amen.