Sermon: 8th Sunday after Pentecost
26 July 2020 – Archdeacon Mark Long
Romans 8:26-30 and Matthew 13:31-33, 44-52; NRSV
Greetings
once again as we continue to navigate this new context thrust upon us by the
COVID-19 pandemic. Two weeks ago, when I last preached, we met between storms
as the Cape was lashed by high winds and substantial rain. Today we gather in after
a period of balmy winter weather – balmy by Cape standards, anyway – with sun
and relative warmth for company. Dawn and my time away has possibly added to
the sense of warmth and well-being for me in this moment. Again, thank you all
so much for the opportunity to break away for a few days: we both remain incredibly
grateful and appreciative of the opportunity!
Today’s
reading from Romans invites us into a very special place of being, to open
ourselves and our most intimate interior spaces to the ministry of God’s Holy
Spirit. Personally, I mostly find it hard to share my need, especially my
broken places that expose my weakness, both with God and even with close family
and friends; and perhaps you, too, can relate. Today’s invitation is to allow
the Holy Spirit of God to inhabit this vulnerability, and to find the words
that we cannot to express the fragility that underlies our lives at this time.
The nature of this pandemic is that there are no certainties, either in the
present, and perhaps even less so for the future; and with that comes a
plethora of concerns, even fear. For me there is a deep comfort in Paul’s
encouragement that “… the Spirit helps us in our weakness; … [interceding] with
sighs too deep for words” (8:26). It is
comforting to know that we don’t always have to find words, that God searches and
knows our hearts sufficiently to hold us as we face the abyss of our fear. And
even more than this, that there is hope, “… because the Spirit intercedes for
the saints according to the will of God” (8:27). The nature of our new context
and it’s related uncertainties is that we do not yet know what to truly want, or
what may practically be helpful in navigating this journey. We still lack the
language to put our longings into words, and our prayers appear all too stunted
in our attempt to define an unknown future. It has been many decades since we in
our common humanity last felt so out of control of our environment and our
world.
It may be
helpful to reflect on what Paul means here in Romans when he refers to the will
of God, especially if we are honestly seeking wisdom in beginning to plot our
future beyond the present frustrations of lockdown; and beyond the devastation
this pandemic brings to our communities in terms of loss of life, loss of
employment, and a potential ultimate loss of hope. As people of faith our hope
is in God’s purposes being worked out through the brokenness of our present
experience, and – in our increasing lack of trust in Government – in our trust
that God has a plan that we can link into and build together. This is increasingly
vital to our spiritual, psychological, and emotional wellbeing. In this
Scripture passage God’s will is linked to the word “predestined” (8:30), and
our common understanding of predestination tends to suggest a lack of choice,
that God has ordained what will happen and we have little alternative but to go
along with it. In the context here of Romans, however, it refers more to the
unfolding of God’s purposes in the broad context of God’s will, and not to a
specific path or even to specific detail of our present or future journey. Our
ability to choose is integral to this unfolding, allowing us to be active
participants in God’s will and not pawns. God’s will is about possibility and
potential; and it is to be discovered within our present suffering, and is composted
by our brokenness.
None of
this promises us an easy journey, or that we will clearly comprehend God’s will;
but our hope lies in trusting that it will unfold. Today’s Gospel reading from
Matthew offers us some signposts, parables that highlight something of the
paradoxical nature of God’s activity in our world, some handholds on the
mystery of it all. The parable of the mustard seed reminds us not to discount
the seemingly insignificant signs of God’s presence; and the parable of the
yeast prompts us to trust that God’s will is not limited by seeming
insufficiency (13:31-33). These two parables are a powerful reminder that despite
the limitations of our present, growth is not just a possibility; it is a
reality. If we can gather our courage and commit to being active participants
in the unfolding of God’s will, we will be co-creators of a hope-filled future.
The
following two parables (13:44-46) give us an insight into the nature of this co-creative
journey: it is one of discovery. It is one in which we will discover truths and
insights that are so valuable that we will be willing to sacrifice absolutely
everything to sustain these gifts for the common good of our communities, and
the common good of humanity. I find it intriguing that when Jesus asks the
disciples if they understand this, they answer, “Yes” (8:51). Are we able to
respond with such confidence?
Again, none
of this is offered as a comfortable or certain journey. It will require us to discover
these nuggets in the context of our present and ongoing struggles. It will
demand we face our uncertainty, and move forward despite our fear. In today’s reading
from Romans we are reminded that we are called, and that our calling comes with
resources (8:30); and with a reminder that if God is for us all things are
possible (8:31). We may not feel confident, but our confidence is in the Holy
Spirit’s ability to use us in the unfolding of God’s will.
Going
forward, as people of faith, I do not believe we have the luxury any longer to
live out our faith in any way that is separate from the wider needs of the
society we belong to. We cannot afford to insulate ourselves from the social,
economic or body-political realities of our Nation, or distance ourselves from
the suffering of the majority of our fellow South Africans. God’s love is
indiscriminate, and ours must be, too. I am only too aware that this is easy to
say, and that follow-through is easily distracted by the unsettling nature that
the practicalities of what it actually means to move beyond the protective boundaries
of our Church walls will require of us. As I have intimated before, this
pandemic is a kairos moment for us as God’s people. We need to connect
meaningfully and life-givingly with the world that God has placed us in, and no
matter the difficulties or challenges, commit anew to being of service to
others and to the unfolding of God’s will in our world and our time.
I was
gifted this week with an awakening to three principles that carry substantial
Biblical content, and which I believe to be critical to the future health and
healing of our social, economic, and body-political environment in Southern
Africa: transformation, equity, and belonging[1].
Transformation is about a marked change in the form and nature of our
relationships; equity is the quality of being fair and impartial; belonging is
about creating safe and welcoming spaces. These are three principles I am
willing to commit to and seek to sustain for the common good, to which I can
say, “Yes” with confidence. In them I see the possibility and potential for
growth, tools for the unfolding of God’s will as we journey through our present
uncertainties, a source of hope for our future. I hope you may similarly be
inspired, and that we may find the time and space to explore these as a
practical map to our faith-journey at St Andrew’s, both in serving each other
and in serving the world.
In place of
a prayer, I close today with a few selected verses from the poem Narrative
Theology #2 by Irish Poet and Theologian, Pádraig Ó Tuama[2]:
God is the crackwhere the story begins.We are the crackwhere the story gets interesting.We are the choiceof where to begin –the person going out?the stranger coming in?God is the fracture,and the ache in your voice,God is the story,flavoured with choice.God is the bitthat we can’t explain –maybe the healingmaybe the pain.We are the bitthat God can’t explain –maybe the harmonymaybe the strain.God is the plot,and we are the writers,the story of winnersand the story of fighters,the story of love,and the story of rupture,the story of stories,the story without structure.
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