Sermon: 12th Sunday after Pentecost

Sermon: 12th Sunday after Pentecost

23 August 2020 – Archdeacon Mark Long

Romans 12:1-8, Psalm 124, and Matthew 16:13-20; NRSV

 

Good morning to you all on this 150^th day since we went into lockdown in South Africa at the end of March. This has been a momentous period in our lives, and it’s ripple effects will be felt for years to come. It has fundamentally shifted our foundations, and we don’t yet know how our social structures will hold as the tectonic plates of history realign. In life as we experienced it five months ago, we often expressed anxiety for the future. In this new context we are often anxious for the present. As life begins to open up a little more under Alert Level 2, we are testing out our new reality a little more each day. We need to continue to exercise extreme caution where the virus is concerned, while embracing our new reality with a confidence that may not always be our lived experience. In Pádraig Ó Tuama’s words, “Courage comes from the heart and we are always welcomed by God, the [heart] of all being.”[1] We find ourselves needing to be fearfully courageous as we explore this new world.

 

As we begin this novel journey I wish to remind us again of Denise Ackermann’s question a few weeks ago, “Am I, are we, is the church, hearing what God is saying to us in these extraordinary times?” As people of faith God is central to our lived experience, and Scripture bears testimony – as do the lives of the Saints – that God is never absent. It is beholden on us to listen to the God who is present, Emmanuel, God with us. As I shared two weeks ago, Rumi[2] puts it well, “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.” The Psalmist puts it slightly differently, “You make me lie down in green pastures, and lead me beside still waters. You revive my soul, and guide me along right pathways for the sake of your Name.”[3] Hearing God is not meant to be hard work; it does, however, require us to find the courage to come out from hiding, from behind the fig leaves of our insecurity, and to join God in the garden at the time of the evening breese.[4]  Hearing God is about finding a place beyond the noise of the present chaos, finding that end of day moment to relax and reflect, and to be restored.

 

To hear God is to become aware, to see things differently; and as I said two weeks ago, this new context presents us with a God-given opportunity to see our reality afresh, to determine our actions in the light of what we see, and to act decisively and transformatively. Today’s reading from Romans affirms this when Paul encourages us, saying, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.”[5] Paul’s words are a call to a different, even counter-cultural, lifestyle where forbearance and altruism become the order of the day.[6] This is counter-cultural in that it is in our nature to be selfish. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks helpfully says, “In Homo sapiens a miracle of nature meets a miracle of culture: religion, which turns selfish genes into selfless people.”[7] There is something about a sincere religious experience that inspires us to see our connection to others, and creates a desire within us to seek the best for each other. Here again, Paul’s words in our Romans reading today are instructive, “… we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another.”[8] One of the greatest obstacles to social cohesion in the 21^st century is individualism, and Paul’s words offer a remedy in advocating for the transformation of the entire human family.[9] In essence, this is the Good News we are offered in Jesus Christ: we are liberated from our egocentrism.

 

If our allegiance shifts away from self towards others, how does this determine our actions? And what is the context in which our actions should play out? In today’s Gospel reading from Matthew Jesus asks the question, “Who do people say that the son of man is”?[10] and then more pointedly, “Who do you say that I am?”[11] and we know Peter’s answer. What is important here is the physical place in which Jesus is asking the question: it is not the Temple in Jerusalem; it is Caesarea Philippi, a town beyond Galilee, a town containing a sanctuary dedicated to the Greek god, Pan, and possibly to others, and a temple built in honour of Caesar Augustus; it is the administrative centre for Philip the tetrarch's government, and a few decades later it will be the venue where Roman troops celebrate after destroying the Temple in Jerusalem.[12] Jesus ask the question – and Peter answers with the important recognition that Jesus is the Messiah – in the oppressor’s backyard, the equivalent of the centre of secularism in our own context. The context for our actions, therefore, isn’t the equivalent of Jerusalem, it is the equivalent of Caesarea Philippi: it is in the midst of all that we deem to be contrary to the principles and values of our faith; it is to step into the darkness to bring light. Too often as Church, because we have had temporal power for too many centuries, we have invited the darkness into the light, instead. These extraordinary times require us to hear God calling all people of faith to a different path, in many ways a more dangerous but also more meaningful path: a call that invites us to engage for the sake of the Gospel with the world; to be the light in the darkness. This pandemic has caused us to sojourn away from our buildings for a time, our own experience of exile; and in this process we are being formed anew in the Potter’s hands.[13] And so, again, I need to emphasise that Denise’s question is paramount: “Am I, are we, is the church, hearing what God is saying to us in these extraordinary times?” as we reengage with our society, and return in time to our buildings.

 

Perhaps a key to what we need to hear lies in Jesus words that follow Peter’s confession, “… whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.”[14] God, in Jesus, has given us the ability to either be agents of liberation or oppression, and everything in Scripture points to a call to be liberators on every level of human experience. This is what the disciples missed in Caesarea Philippi: they were so focused on the national desire for Israel’s liberation from political occupation that they missed perceiving the greater breadth of Jesus’ purpose, which by default was their – and our – purpose. And this of course raises the question, “What is this purpose?” Perhaps Rabbi Jonathan Sacks can be of help here. He says, “[In 1 Samuel 2:8, w]hen Hannah sings a song to God on the birth of her son, she says: 

 

“He raises the poor from the dust

and lifts the needy from the ash heap; 

he seats them with princes 

and has them inherit a throne of honour.”

 

Jonathan goes on to comment that, “We hear the power of hope expressed in those words. Perhaps the social structure is not immutable. Perhaps the low can become high. Perhaps there is justice after all.”[15]

 

May we embrace the freedom that God offers us, and may we find the courage to gift that freedom to others in our world.

 

I close, not unusually, with a prayer from Pádraig Ó Tuama[16]. Let us pray,

 

God of Reconciliation,

You demand much of us –

inviting us to tell truths

by turning towards each other.

May we leave our trinkets where they belong

and find our treasure

by turning towards each other.

Because you needed this

Because we all need this.

Amen.

---

[1] Pádraig Ó Tuama Daily Prayer with the Corrymeela Community 

[2] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumi

[3] Psalm 23:2-3 Order of Saint Helena

[4] Genesis 3:8 NRSV

[5] Romans 12:2 NRSV 

[6] Israel Kamudzandu http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4563

[7] Johnathan Sacks The Great Partnership: God, Science, and the Search for Meaning

[8] Romans 12:5 NRSV 

[9] Israel Kamudzandu http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4563

[10] Matthew 16:13 NRSV 

[11] Matthew 16:15 NRSV 

[12] Audrey West http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4557

[13] Isaiah 64:8 NRSV 

[14] Matthew 16:19b NRSV 

[15] Johnathan Sacks The Great Partnership: God, Science, and the Search for Meaning

[16] Pádraig Ó Tuama, Daily Prayer with the Corrymeela Community

Sermon: 10th Sunday after Pentecost (National Women's Day - South Africa)

Sermon: 10th Sunday after Pentecost

9 August 2020 – Archdeacon Mark Long

1 Kings 19:9-18, Psalm 85:8-13, and Matthew 14:22-33; NRSV

Greetings once again as we continue to traverse the challenges of Lockdown and life. As I have reflected in previous sermons, this new context continues to stretch us on every level, and each day brings a variety of emotional responses to our situation. Not only do we continue to mourn what the pandemic and lockdown have taken from us, but as lockdown increasingly shows up the cracks in our social and political scenery – and as we experience the economic consequences of lockdown – we lament the raw realities of the brokenness of our Nation and our world. What are we learning on this journey? As I reflect a little on my own learnings I am cognisant of the question Denise Ackermann asked us three weeks ago, “Am I, are we, is the church, hearing what God is saying to us in these extraordinary times?”

The first verse of today’s Psalm echo’s a response, “Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, …”[1], “I will listen to what you are saying, …”[2]. Hopefully we have taken time to reflect on Denise’s question, and are beginning to hear an answer? As I reflected in my sermon two weeks ago, I hear a pressing need for us as people of Faith to embrace a marked change in the form and nature of our relationships in such a manner that our relational space is truly one of safety and welcome, fairness and impartiality;[3] and to live this out in such a manner that it impacts meaningfully and significantly on our socio-economic and political landscape. The reading from 1 Kings 19 today highlights the fact that our obedience to God’s call impacts the wider issues of our times as Elijah is sent to anoint new kings of Aram and Israel, along with a new prophet in his own position (a somewhat provocative act as all three positions are still filled, one by Elijah himself).[4]

Today and tomorrow we join all South Africans in celebrating National Women’s Day, thankful for the example of women of all cultural backgrounds who in 1956 protested the proposed amendments to the Urban Areas Act of 1950, commonly referred to as the "pass laws"[5]. However, this celebration also highlights how women continue to struggle, and remain victims of patriarchy in both church and society. Gender-based violence remains a key social ill, with domestic violence, sexual harassment in the workplace, and unequal pay among the many symptoms of this scourge; and the Church in Southern Africa remains on the back-foot in this and many other areas of discrimination despite the leadership we were able to give in the run-up to the birth of a new South Africa[6] in 1994. It is easy to be overwhelmed by these and other urgent issues of our time. It may be helpful to remember that Elijah, when we come across him entering the cave in today’s reading, is depressed and overwhelmed despite his recent victories against the forces of evil in his day. In his brokenness and aloneness he finds renewed strength as he rediscovers God in the silence beyond the noise and chaos.[7] We, too, need to find that silent space that we may hear.

In our more resourced communities it is all too easy to let remembrances like today’s Women’s Day be just an opportunity for time out, or time off. As important as a long weekend may be for recreation and family re-engagement, these Public Holidays are also a time for reflection. Today provides an opportunity to reflect on the role of women in the church, in the context of faith, and perhaps in partial answer to Denise’s question. A key figure in Christianity’s early formation is Mary, and Protestantism has been enormously uncomfortable with assigning her a prominent role, remaining thoroughly suspicious of the eminence she is accorded in Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy. The fact that we often refer to the Ladies Chapel, rather than the Lady Chapel (opposite the organ) in our beautiful St Andrew's Church building suggests that at St Andrew’s we may share in this Protestant suspicion? My moment of conversion to Mary came about during a Diocesan Advent Retreat in 2007 lead by an Anglican Nun, Sister Erika, OHP, on Iconography. It was her reflection on the icon Mother of God of the Sign[8], a 16th century Russian writing (icons are written, not painted), that awoke me to a whole new world, specifically Sister Erika’s comment that, “Since very early on, Christians had imagined the Church as a woman; and the … woman praying with hands extended and head covered, stood for the Church …”.[9] It is difficult to find words to convey the impact these simple words had on me, but combined with an understanding that the early Church faced so much persecution the image presented by this icon of the Sign – Jesus – held in Mary’s womb, not as an unborn baby but as the Christ, helped something to shift within me, helping me discover the importance of Mary, symbolic of the feminine nature of God, symbol of the Church, nurturing and protecting all that the Spirit of God is up to in our world. Praying the Rosary and the Angelus became deeply comforting as a result.

Another nun, this time Roman Catholic Benedictine, Joan Chittister, in her commentary on the Apostles Creed[10], also conscientised me to the importance of Mary. In her words, “We remember the Annunciation but we forget its central truth: Mary was not used. Mary was not made a pawn in the birth of Christ. Mary was asked a question to which she had the right to say no. Mary was made a participant in the initiatives of God. God did not impose on Mary. … Mary did not have life forced upon her.  She was made an equal partner in the process.” Joan, in her usual exacting way, goes on to say, “God asked a woman a question, something that happened only rarely thereafter. … Mary, in a culture given to the total control of women, makes a personal decision and replies to the angel, takes responsibility for the act, and bears the consequences.” Joan importantly highlights the respect with which God treats Mary; a respect for women that the Church has rarely imitated in our long history. In highlighting Mary’s ability to act independently and make her own free choices, Joan also succeeds in affirming women’s agency. As Church we pat ourselves on the back for eventually allowing women to be ordained, but as the Anglican Church of Southern Africa celebrates the 25^th anniversary of this decision, the lack of women clergy in senior positions questions the Church’s commitment to fairness and impartiality when it comes to women, and rather demonstrates a reactive response to wider social changes than any proactive leadership in this regard. In a world where women are too often subjected to sexual violence and harassment, Joan Chittister makes the point that, “The [Apostles] Creed does not make sex contemptuous; it makes it natural.  It puts sex in the service of the soul. … It shows us women [who are] loving, giving, holy, in communion with God, and filled with the spirit of Jesus.” Joan’s perspective here is certainly at odds with a Church that has glorified sexual abstinence, regulated sexual activity to a very narrow definition of relational commitment, and been all too silent about sexual abuse within its own structures.

To be conscientised to the realities of life is often overwhelming and exhausting. Recognising and accepting that the Church – as institution rather than as a community of Faith – is fallible can be breaking. The new context brought about by the Covid-19 pandemic is proving an intense conscientizing tool, and is jolting us out of every comfort, and our Faith is not immune. Like Elijah, we are experiencing a storm, and it is easy to mistake the wind, the earthquake, the fire for God’s voice. Undoubtable we need to note the wind, earthquake, and fire, but we need to reach beyond these phenomena in search of the sheer silence that will allow us to hear the voice of God. Beyond all that presently overwhelms and exhausts us is an opportunity for a heart-to-heart with our Creator. Rumi[11] puts it well, “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.”

This new context presents us with a God-given opportunity to see our reality afresh, to determine our actions in the light of what we see, and to act decisively and transformatively. We need to take courage from today’s Psalm, that God does indeed act decisively in the present and salvation is at hand if we choose to grasp it. There can be no doubt that even prior to the pandemic our world was in trouble, and in need of rebirth; and in Joan Chittister’s words, “… “Birthing” is about bringing the Divine to life in us, however that needs to be done.”[12]

I again close with a prayer from Pádraig Ó Tuama[13]. Let us pray,

God of promises, 
Sometimes we wait generations
for the dawn from on high;
sometimes only years.
We wait for justice and hope and
light and kindness
to mingle in the tangle of our days.
And we age while we hope.
So may we age and hope
with tenderness and truth.
Because you are tender and true
even though we sometimes wonder.
Amen.

---

[1] Psalm 85:8a NRSV
[2] Psalm 85:8a Order of Saint Helena
[3] Transformation, equity, belonging
[4] 1 Kings 19:15-16
[5] https://www.sahistory.org.za/article/1956-womens-march-pretoria-9-august
[6] The dawn of democracy in South Africa
[7] 1 Kings 19:9-10, 12-13
[8] https://iconreader.wordpress.com/2010/12/10/the-theotokos-of-the-sign-icon/
[9] The Orans figure
[10] Chittister, Joan 1990. In Search of Belief; Liguori/Triumph, USA; page 98-99
[11] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumi
[12] Chittister, Joan 1990. In Search of Belief; Liguori/Triumph, USA; page 100
[13] Pádraig Ó Tuama, Daily Prayer with the Corrymeela Community