Sermon: Cathedral Eucharist - 10 Feb 2013

Preacher:

Date:

Sunday 10th February 2013

Service:

Eucharist

‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ whispered Mrs Bonner loudly, ‘a very interesting sermon, but what a lot of talk about sin. I suppose it’s only to be expected at the beginning of Lent, but it’s all so miserable don’t you think?’

This quotation was correctly identified within 5 minutes of me including it as a Facebook update. It’s a line from Barbara Pym’s Excellent Women.  In a narrative full of wit and pathos she captures the idiosyncrasies of church life in the 1950s,  yet her characters are observed with such attention that their conversations are recognisable today.  The small congregation of St. Mary’s have strong opinions about the things that still dominate our ecclesial agendas – worship, sermons, the role of the clergy, our responsibilities in the world

Mildred, our narrator, wrestles with how to witness to the Gospel in daily life.  Her preoccupations are not dissimilar to ours.  She is caught up in situations of social tension and complex personal relationships; she wants to do the right thing.  In the midst of the trivial she seeks moments of prayerful stillness.  She longs to be virtuous and acknowledges her own desires and judgements. 

Her honesty about the infinitesimal amount of virtue she feels has gone out of her as she tries to fulfill her personal resolution resonates with our attempts to adjust our habits and patterns of behaviour in the light of what we give up or take on during this season. It is poignant and comic by turns.  It is surprisingly appropriate Lenten reading.

We are in this season brought back to the heart of human life and our journey of faith.  We are invited to reflect on where we are as individuals and as a worshipping community in relation to God – the source of all being and life, the one for whom we exist.  The language we use – of self-examination and repentance, forgiveness and new life – shouldn’t make us feel miserable. Rather it should release in us a sense of the potential for human flourishing. We are recipients of an extraordinarily generous gift of love; but it is a struggle. We rely on grace.

Following his baptism, Jesus withdraws to the desert.  He was Spirit filled and Spirit led.  The Son of God has humbled himself to share our humanity, in all our pride, hurt and confusion.  He does not dazzle or coerce by the power of his divinity. Three times he refuses to use power for personal benefit or to coerce humanity to respond to his love. 

The desert is  a place of testing and preparation.  How was he to fulfil his task?  His self-understanding as God’s son is forged in these days; he embraces a costly self-giving, the way of the cross.  The lines of dialogue are familiar.

If you are God’s Son, you can provide material plenty – bring about the messianic hope of perpetual feasting!  If you are who you claim to be, satisfy your own physical needs; banish the pangs of hunger. In responding that we do not live by bread alone, Jesus affirms that there is more to our human nature than physical appetites – our needs, our wants, our desires. 

Jesus does not meet his own needs or bribe people to follow him by offering a material excess.  The Kingdom he is called to bring is not only about changing conditions, but also changing the way in which we relate to one another.  We have spiritual longings too – the need to be treated with dignity and compassion whatever our age, our background or circumstance.  We seek material comfort and security, yet still find ourselves weighed down with burdens and longings. In relationship to God, we find the ground of our being; a place of assurance.

Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him:  It is ten years since the start of the Iraq war: was it worth it, asks the New Statesman. Whether Blair and Bush were right or wrong – people are still dying, a new kind of dictatorship has emerged, hope has been lost.  Competing powers amongst earthly kingdoms does not equate to peace.  Today our world is marred with exploitation of the freedom and rights of others.  Jesus is being offered a worldly domination – a kingdom won by force and maintained by coercion.  His kingdom is different – it is won by love and evoking a response from our free choice. 

He does not compromise. He does not lower his standards for the sake of a quick win.   He is the embodiment of the Word who abided with God from the beginning. In doing his Father’s will, he chooses service rather than force.  The Kingdom we are called to build is a form of social life which does things with and for others.  It is about abiding in love and living in compassion.

Do not put the Lord your God to the test: Jesus is not a 1^st century Derren Brown.  He does not use his power to perform flashy stunts. He does not walk the way of self-aggrandizement.  If he did, he might capture our attention for a while; until the next thing seized our imagination. Instead, he walks the way of humility – responding to the needs of others; instead he courts unpopularity by challenging patterns of life that exclude and dehumanise.

Jesus is committed to the way of service and suffering; he walks the way of the cross rather than seizing a crown.  God’s love is generous and freely given; and so must our response be one of freedom; a freedom to serve that becomes a gift to our world. Jesus refuses to act on the temptation to restore our relationship to God by using power, exhibitionism and sating our physical longings.  He chooses to be with us, to identify with us, to walk with us.

The Church of England’s “Live life, love Lent” campaign encourages us to find opportunities for showing faith in action rooted in the prophet Micah’s call to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God. To align our hearts, minds, wills and actions with God’s purposes is a demanding task.  We need to consider what it is we are going to take into the wilderness with us: what are the hopes, the frustrations, the longings and hurts that we need to be healed?  What are the gifts or opportunities bestowed upon us, and how might we use them in the service of God and neighbour?

The gift of the Spirit strengthens us as we struggle with all that opposes or gets in the way of love, wholeness and peace, which God desires for us.  We struggle with mental anguish; we seek to give/receive love; we confront constraints and the powers that distort our ability to address one another in human dignity. Do we consume too much or judge by outward appearances? Is there more to our endeavours than a simple cash value, which however tempting, distracts us from the Kingdom vision of transformed lives?

Paul reminds the Roman church of the core of the Gospel: Jesus is Lord, and God is the one who raised him from dead.  Grace is the great equaliser and a great puzzlement. If grace overrides our human distinctions; it rescues us from self-sufficiency; it evokes in us generosity rather than arrogance.  The universal embrace of God’s concern and outreach is also an invitation to share fully in his will and purpose.  A vision rooted in attentiveness to the word that dwells near us – in our mind, on our lips and in our hearts.

The season of Lent is an opportunity to live in conscious attentiveness to God, to cultivate disciplines of grace and virtue – one infinitesimal step at a time, like Mildred. The challenge is in finding contentment in that path; allowing our personal striving to cease; bearing with and for each other; locating our assurance in abiding in God.  We are called to live a holy Lent – which means allowing the grace, mercy and forgiveness of God to reshape us and to overflow into our lives, and the life of the world.