Sermon: The Eighth Sunday after Trinity

Preacher:

Date:

Sunday 29th July 2012

Service:

Eucharist

Readings:

Ephesians 3:14-end

John 6:1-21

Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises.

Much has been made of Danny Boyle’s £27million budget for Friday night’s Olympic opening ceremony. The stadium was full of noises; full of colour and dance; full of words and music. Creative: yes. Eccentric: probably.

The tableaux from rural idyll to pyrotechnic finale, presented the upheavals and transformations of national life within an overarching sense of vision.  In his own words, Boyle hoped we would glimpse a single golden thread of purpose – the idea of Jerusalem – of the better world, the world of real freedom and true equality, a world that can be built through the prosperity of industry, through the caring nation that built the welfare state, through the joyous energy of popular culture, through the dream of universal communication.  A belief that we can build Jerusalem. And that it will be for everyone.

McDonald’s claims in its London 2012 advertising campaign that We all make the games. But in what sense can we all make Jerusalem? Or does Blake's vision  express divinely inspired longing? Perhaps that golden thread of purpose is itself shaped and sustained by the Creator of our human capacity to dream and bless; perhaps belief in the possibility of the heavenly city here on earth is  witnessed as God's grace works through human energy, industry and joy.

Our readings this morning are full of kingdom imagery. They speak of human need; of hunger and fear and longing; they speak of trust and satisfaction and knowledge of God’s love.

In John’s Gospel Jesus is pursued by a crowd demanding a sign.  He acts with compassion in their need rather. He takes a meager offering, given in hope and courage. A miracle is unlocked; there is plenty and satisfaction; the  fragments are gathered, of overflowing blessing.   Whether we read this narrative as a miracle of abundant provision, a piece of teaching on the Eucharist, or a reflection on the way in which one generous act prompts others to share food, the consequences for us remain challenging and transforming. 

Jesus' action generates an immediate, but misguided response.  The crowd seeks to seize Jesus as a prophet and king; but the path he treads is not about earthly power and glory. The sign that he gives, comes to fruition when his own body is broken on the cross, for the sake of the world; in his resurrection he brings healing.  God's Word holds together suffering and abundance in a unity of longing and purpose. John gives us a foretaste of the peace and freedom of God's kingdom: paucity becomes abundance; storms are stilled; waters carry the weight of their creator.

Our response to God’s action is described in Ephesians. We are to be rooted and grounded in God’ love; we are to return to the sources of our life; to God in whose image we are made; from whom we receive our name. Strengthened by the Spirit, with Christ dwelling in our hearts by faith,  the mystery and wonder of God’s love is revealed to us. It permeates our being. Christ showed forth the fullness of God. He revealed the extent of God’s love in his life, death and resurrection. We celebrate that love in each Eucharist.

However different out building or ceremonial appears, our worship inspires us to service.  Awareness of the scope of God’s love for us  arouses concern for the other; it compels us to engage with the world.  His love is the source of our vision and imagination; but we do not have the monopoly on the dream of Jerusalem; for Jerusalem, the Kingdom of God, is always emerging just beyond our control. We glimpse it.  Not as a single golden thread; but as a rich band of colour of human co-operation with the divine. 

By the power of the Holy Spirit, Christ's presence in our hearts is intensified; governing our outlook, shaping our attitudes; transforming our behaviour.  Christ does draws near to us in response to trust, rather than by coercion. He freely gives of himself, offering himself to us that we might enter into the movement of self offering in the Eucharist, where we receive what we are becoming; his body.  The primary characteristic of Christ's presence is love. Our lives are to be rooted and grounded in love so that the gifts of the Spirit might flourish and become visible.

Such a life rooted in Christ is sustained by prayer; in Ephesians we're given the impression of the sheer incomprehensibility and all-encompassing nature of God's love as words are piled up on one another. The breadth, length, depth and height is beyond us; yet God's creative power and the scope of his salvation is very near to us by his Spirit.   Worship is in part a response to that awesomeness; it also an acknowledgment that God is at work in us, in our world bringing about a new creation which surpasses our imagining. That vision of glory is a golden thread running through the history of the created order, and onwards into eternity.

In the Eucharist we embrace a material and spiritual reality. In the taking, blessing, breaking and sharing of bread we are reminded of our need for daily sustenance; we are reminded of the importance of hospitality, of offering all that we are to God and each other. In that same taking, blessing, breaking and sharing we receive heavenly sustenance. In the recollection of Christ’s self-giving, we encounter the risen Christ. We open ourselves to him to be renewed and transformed; we extend our hands to receive his gift of life and love. We receive and become the body of Christ; for the sake of the world. 

John reminds us that what little we have become much in his hands. If we put our lives in the context of God, who creates, redeems and sanctifies he will accomplish through us more than we dare to ask. The power of God’s love is profoundly creative. It challenges and transforms, taking us beyond our limits and expectations. It is compelling, generous and powerful; we cannot control or manipulate it; but we are called to co-operate with it.   It allows us to say with Andrew “I will commit what I have to God, and trust him to use and transform it” rather than saying with Philip, “this situation is hopeless, nothing can be done’.

This cathedral church is dedicated to the Holy Spirit.  The gifts and virtues which are physically written into our walls and embodied in sculpture – take time to look. They are the risky disciplines and characteristics that form our witness; just as they formed Julian of Norwich, Michael Ramsey, Evelyn Underhill and the others whose lives reflect the Spirit's work and who greet us as we enter this cathedral.

They are the gifts of the Spirit with which we can participate in the building up of Jerusalem – in love and joy, in justice and hope.  By being attentive to the golden thread of God’s loving purposes, we might glimpse the signs of his kingdom in the world.  In all the changes and chances of this fleeting world, God is not far off. His faithful response to our fear and uncertainty is: it is I; do not be afraid.  Be not afraid this isle is full of noises; our isle is a rich band of colour.  In human compassion and imagination; in freedom from oppression and the pursuit of equality; in creativity and work; we glimpse something of the unimaginable breadth and depth of God’s love in our midst.

In God’s love the fragments of our humanity become blessings to others.  We who are many are one body because we are nourished by the body of Christ. In our fragility we share in a broken body in order that we may be sent out to love and serve in peace as Christ’s body in the world.  Rowan Williams in the final stanza of his poem “Rublev” writes: but we shall sit and speak around one table, share one food, one earth. May we be challenged, transformed; may we be imaginative and courageous, praying that we may be filled with the fullness of God's love. Let us offer all that we have; let us gather up the fragments of God's abundance. May we ensure that the golden thread of the hope of God’s kingdom is made real – in Christ like relationships, in generous conversation and in compassionate service. May those things be marks of Christ’s church, our isle and God’s kingdom.