Sermon: The Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity

Preacher:

Date:

Sunday 16th September 2012

Service:

Mattins

Readings:

Isaiah 44:24-45:8

Revelation 12:1-12

Last month the New Statesman ran a piece about the so called ‘ink-stained assassins’; the political cartoonists who present zany artistic comments about domestic policy, economic crisis, international conflict and public figures. Their satire can be aggressive or light-hearted; their observations witty or deeply disturbing.

I discovered such cartoons when I came across folios of Punch in the school library; the complex line drawings were intriguing and not readily intelligible. I lacked the clues and the context.  I picked up on Matt’s tiny cartoons and one-liners; now I reach for Private Eye to while away a train journey.  But it is the editorial cartoon that provokes, amuses and challenges.  The work of Rowson or Jennings can convey the complexity of a news story or alert us to the implications of a decision in a quarter of a page.

If we haven’t got time to plough through column inches of text, an image will stay with us. The cartoonists’ work is dependent on some background knowledge – about the protests sweeping the Middle East, the intrusiveness of the paparazzi, the news from Westminster; their work is also dependent on recognizable caricatures. John Major, forever associated with Y-fronts, or the youthful Tony Blair with Bambi. The coalition cabinet are portrayed sixth-formers.  In cartoons, the xenophobia of the BNP, policy u-turns , bankers’ wealth and hypocrisy have become targets.

Today’s second lesson presents not a cartoon but a portent.  The author has painted a vibrant picture – full of character, curious symbolism and hints at a narrative.  The same set of techniques is being deployed as in an editorial cartoon.  To understand, we need the back story; we need to recognize the caricatures.

The tantalizing passage presents a vision which resonates with both biblical and cultural context.   The signs of the heavens reflect astrological constellations; the heavenly mother and her child would be familiar to those who knew of the pagan myths of Isis and Horus, Leto and Apollo.  The dragon causes the chaos of the monsters from the world of Babylonian creation myths.   The dragon resembles the ancient serpent; the one who pressed for disobedience of God’s command. 

There is light and dark – a struggle for the establishment of righteousness. The woman gives birth to a son; a child who is quickly swept away from danger. Something decisive has happened.  All that is evil and oppressive has been thwarted.  Is the woman Mary?  Or does she stand for a more comprehensive heavenly symbol?  Mary gave birth to the Messiah; this heavenly woman embodies her faithfulness and the fulfilment of Israel’s hopes.  Yet, later in Revelation the woman has other children, pointing perhaps to a community of faith, to the identity of the church as standing in continuity with God’s people from the beginning.

Our portent contains rich with imagery about the fulfilment of God’s will.  Jesus Christ in his life, death and resurrection has restored relationship between divinity and humanity.  He calls all people back into obedience to God’s command; he brings forgiveness, healing and hope.  Something new emerges.  There is danger, confrontation and hostility. The community called to follow Jesus’ example must learn to walk with him in the way of the cross; to be lights shining in the darkness to light; to seek and to celebrate kingdom of God, by deep engagement with our world.

The imagery holds out the hope of salvation. The vision of heaven – with its cartoon-like intensity and rawness – offers strength and purpose amidst the trials we face.  The war in heaven depicted in Revelation is a moral conflict. In the Old Testament Satan acts as an agent of justice or provocation. He both deceives and accuses, but ultimately the image of his downfall expresses the power of God’s gracious mercy. Sin is defeated.  Alienation is no more. Healing begins.

The sign and portent of Revelation includes bursts of thanksgiving.  The powers of destruction are cast down.  Harmony emerges. It is expressed in heavenly worship. Here on earth, worship is allows to acknowledge God’s glory and graciousness; worship also shapes how we behave in the world. To be attentive to God is to begin to allow his mercy to still the conflicts of our hearts. 

This is not privatised personal assurance: it is for the whole world. The Lord our redeemer formed us in the womb, made all things. . He frustrates duplicity; he confounds human wisdom.  He stretched out the heavens and the earth. He calls us by name and longs for ruins and desolate places to be inhabited.  

Our lives can be conduits of weal rather than woe.  Our lives mirror the complexity of life amid the birth-pangs of the new age; but we also carry within us seeds of hope. As Christ’s body, we are to be alert to signs of God’s activity in the world.  May our lives be portents of God’s purposes; our common life characterised by God’s mercy, love and forgiveness.  Not as a cartoon, however vivid and dynamic, but just as a challenging and provocative. But as a people embodying peace and justice; walking in God’s ways in the world.