Sermon: 25th Sunday after Pentecost
14 November 2021 –
Archdeacon Mark Long
Remembrance Sunday
Daniel 12:1-3,
Psalm 16, and Mark 13:1-8; NRSV
As you may be aware, today is Remembrance Sunday. At the end of my sermon we will have an opportunity to remember before God all who have died in war, reflect in silence, and listen again to the Last Post. As we begin this time together, though, let us pray,
Grant, O Lord, for the sake of those whose lives were lost in war, and for the sake of generations to come, that the nations of the world may learn your way of peace; and that all people may have a chance to enjoy the life you have given them, free from war, tyranny and oppression. Amen
Human conflict is nothing new, and while the roots of Remembrance Sunday lie in the First and Second World Wars of the last century, militarised conflict remains a very real experience on this continent and in other parts of the world; and despite the devastating casualties of those two wars, violent conflict remains an ongoing source of destruction, and sadly violence is all too often humanity’s go-to option as a means of resolving ethnic, gender, political, and even theological divides. We don’t have to look far – and certainly not as far as the international stage – because we experience these conflicts in our homes, congregations, and communities: they are an ongoing source of anguish in our world.[1] The Covid-19 pandemic, gender-based violence, gangsterism, corruption, patriarchy, and the residual impact of Colonialism visible in institutionalised racism, and the general breakdown of relationships are the overwhelming factors as we struggle for social and emotional health, as we seek to deal with death, disease, and disillusionment in our own context and time. In this broad area of need a key question for us as people of faith is how do we practice hospitality in the face of hostility?[2]
Today’s Scripture readings, ancient as they are, also grapple with similar issues of disillusionment. The book of Daniel was most likely written after the death of Alexander the Great, during the struggle for power over his kingdom between the Ptolemies and the Seleucids, more specifically around the persecution of the Jews in Judah in 167 BCE that precipitated the Jewish revolt described in the books of 1 and 2 Maccabees.[3] This persecution is described in today’s reading as “… a time of anguish greater than any since nations first came into existence.”[4] At such a time, as you and I experience all too often in our own time and context, God’s justice appears to be absent in the course of human history. In our seeking to understand this from a faith perspective we, like Daniel, find a theological solution in resurrection and an afterlife judgement,[5] and this is evident in the reading from Daniel this morning: “Many of those whose bodies lie dead and buried will rise up, some to everlasting life and some to shame and everlasting disgrace.”[6] We are tempted to think that the substantial and overwhelming wrongs of community life can only be rectified outside of human history.[7] Today’s Psalm, however, reminds us that God remains active even in times when we find ourselves deeply disillusioned and in great anguish: “For you will not abandon me to the grave, … you will show me the path of life.”[8] The Psalmist calls us to take refuge in God, to trust God, even when justice is absent and the brokenness of our world seeks to overwhelm us.
Today’s Gospel also grapples with the impact of disaster on our human experience, speaking of nation rising against nation, kingdom against kingdom, earthquakes and famine.[9] Commentators are unsure as to whether this passage anticipates the Jewish-Roman War of 66-70 CE that saw the destruction of the Temple to which Jesus refers,[10] or if this passage responds to it, but certainly that event would be experienced as an end by those who watched it unfold.[11] While the book of Daniel takes refuge in a theology of justice being administered outside of human history, Jesus instead says to his disciples, “When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed; this must take place, but the end is still to come.”[12] Jesus is encouraging his disciples to recognise the presence of God, God active in the world, despite the seeming absence of justice or consolation, and encourages them not to be taken in by those offering false hope; that all of this points to a time when justice will be reborn.[13]
The power of today’s reading from the book of Daniel is the promise of God’s justice being restored even if this has to happen outside of human history. The point is that it will happen! In Mark’s Gospel we are offered the hope that justice will be restored within the context of human history, even if we have to wait for it. Perhaps the point of it all is that our perception that justice is absent doesn’t mean that justice does not exist, just that our disillusion and our anguish masks it; and that if we can find the courage to awaken to the presence of God and see through the false offerings of hope to true hope – which God offers us in the person of Jesus – we will begin to see the glimmers of justice and begin to embrace moments where justice may be enacted and realised. It is about embracing our ability to act with justice no matter how small the opportunities for us to do so may be; it is about reclaiming our agency as human beings, as people of faith, as children of God.
I come back to my earlier question, “How do we practice hospitality in the face of hostility?” We do so by not allowing hostility to be an obstacle. Hostility seeks to destroy the agency of another; hospitality restores that agency. Over the last year we have travelled with Mark’s Gospel, a Gospel that has reminded us that God’s call is never easy, often discomforting, always stretching: to offer hospitality in the midst of – in the face of – hostility is perhaps the most discomforting, most difficult, most stretching act that we may ever contemplate. To offer hospitality is not to renounce or disown our position, but it is to lay it aside for a time that we may listen and seek to understand another’s position, and in so doing offer a space for engagement rather than conflict; and perhaps find healing. Hospitality is the only space in which we can have our assumptions challenged, where we can become attentive to the real concerns of others[14], and where a just peace may be forged.
To offer meaningful hospitality we need to embrace the words of the Psalmist and genuinely take our refuge in God; and in so doing we become peacemakers and agents for justice in our world.
As an act of hospitality we take time now to pray, and to silently reflect:
Let us pray,
We pray for all who suffer as
a result of war, for the injured and disabled, and the mentally distressed, for
the homeless and refugees, and those who have lost their livelihood, for those
who mourn, and especially those who have no hope.
Almighty and eternal God, from
whose life in Christ we cannot be parted by life or death, hear our prayers for
all whom we remember this day: give grace to the living; to the departed, rest,
and to the people of every nation grant peace and concord.
Amen.[15]
[Two minute silence]
[The Last Post]
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