Sermon: Cathedral Eucharist 11 May 2014
- Preacher:
- Date:
- Sunday 11th May 2014
- Service:
- Cathedral Eucharist
- Readings:
- Acts 2:42-end
- John 10:1-10
- Listen:
- Download Recording (MP3, 11.9M)
In many ways Eurovision is all about excess: dramatic lighting, elaborate costumes, trapeze artists and glitter cannons. Over 120 million viewers and 26 songs; lyrics lamenting emotional storms, tears and loneliness; calling for tolerance or celebrating national identity. There was a prevalence of doves, fires, lights, dreams, darkness and unintelligible wailing. It's an excess of camp and kitsch which somehow holds sway over our national psyche for one night a year - or in the case of ABBA forever.
Eurovision emerged as a way of using light entertainment and live broadcast technology, to bring together the countries of a war torn Europe. Nine months before the Treaty of Rome, before the EEC existed, singing in English (badly) was an attempt to establish peace. Today the scoring system reflects geopolitical tensions and international sympathies more accurately than we realise; writing in the New Statesman, Mark Lawson recalls that in 2013 that Russia and Ukraine had given each other lower marks than usual.
Lyrics telling all the world to show some love or to do away with prejudice say something about human longing for stability, acceptance and transformation. Pop music hasn't achieved that aspiration.
Power to the people, sang the British hopeful Molly. Unintentionally her song echoes comments made by the Rowan Williams at the start of Christian Aid Week. Inequality threatens social cohesion, democracy and prosperity and Rowan argued that governments and financial institutions need to have the courage to redistribute power. Power to the people for him means equal access to decision making, processes of law, education and civic involvement. The church prays for and participates in establishing the common good.
The excess and politics of Eurovision lead us back to texts. Yet we are given both a vision of God's love for us and a vision for life together which is radically excessive.
The life that Jesus promises is abundant: it's a lavishness beyond material wealth and it's more than the number of our days; life that is plenteous because it is an overflowing of God's plenitude.
Jesus is a gatekeeper and a shepherd: he calls us by name. He doesn't call us by age, gender or status, but by name. We respond because we know his voice. He goes ahead of us all; inviting us to share in new life. There is trust, familiarity and care. Jesus is the one who saves and protects; the very opposite of those who exploit, disrupt and destroy. He is the gate itself: in him we come and go and have our being. All of us, by name, are called to share in the richness of God's grace, mercy, forgiveness and healing. An abundance that flows from the self-giving love of Jesus Christ.
The life of the Church should reflect that abundance; living generously: in worship, fellowship, learning, compassion and practical support. The language of abundance echoes through the few short verses from Acts: everyone, all, together; many generous, added.
It would be an easy to say, 'ah well, that was then'. But that misses the place of trust in God's faithfulness and the transformative effect of faith in Jesus Christ and of life in the Spirit. As Ephesians expresses it Christ is the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.
Tom Wright says of Acts that there is an attractiveness and energy about life when we stop clinging and start giving away. The celebration of God's generosity enables us to become generous; it is the love and abundance of God that makes practical sharing or resources a reality in a complex world.
Today, as we review the past year and look forward to what lies ahead, perhaps we can see teaching, fellowship, breaking of bread and prayer as our pattern of life; a pattern rooted in God's abundance which transforms the world.
We are to be a community devoted to teaching. Here at the cathedral, being a place of vibrant learning is a key aspiration. In a world where much education is seen as related to employability and economic well-being, we are called to pursue the wisdom of God, which is the Spirit's gift. Through Lent talks and study days, the Pilgrim Course and public lectures we are drawing on the inexhaustible resources of God. That way of engaging begins with our work with children and young people; it extends into conversations across the diversity of this diocese; it enables us to broker dialogue with those engaged in science, politics, healthcare the arts and other faiths. Such learning is relational and effects the balance of power.
We are to be a community devoted to fellowship. Such togetherness is rooted in God's love for us; it is community as gift. In a world where the experience of loneliness is increasing; when we form alliances according to self-interest and shared opinion or activity; our lived reality is different. Look at how diverse we are: appearance, status, occupation, class and experience of God. Yesterday, we gathered to celebrate 20 years of women's priesthood: the stories that were shared reflected a range of experiences; we represented different spiritual traditions and theological positions. The atmosphere had a tangible sense of Koinonia; of communion that was rich and complex, a manifestation of God's healing love.
Our common life flourishes with shared vision and values; it compelling when we grow in trust and joy. We don't always get it right; our communication breaks down; we don't always listen as we ought; we find ourselves talking about what I want, rather than what God wants for us. That is why we have to be devoted to the breaking of bread and the prayers.
Here and now, in this present moment, we are caught up in an act of remembrance and encounter. We recall God's acts of creation; and our misuse of our creaturely freedom. We recall that God so loved us that he sent his Son to draw us back to himself. We draw near to receive bread and wine in remembrance; becoming what we we receive, that is the body of Christ in this place. As penitents we are forgiven and restored; renewed by the Spirit and inspired in love we are sent out to walk in God's way in God's world.
The Eucharist gives us a vision of God's Kingdom and shapes our engagement with the world: we pray that we may work together that justice and mercy will be seen in all the earth. Such prayer equips us and changes us; it allows are wills and actions to be shaped by God's love. Something is ignited in us that compels us to love, and risk and care. It raises the bar on how we should behave; it deepens our commitment to God's world; it assures us that we don't act in our own strength.
All who believed were together they held all things in common: all committed all that they had and all that they were to the wellbeing of others. They praised God; they ate with glad and generous hearts. Dare we turn they into we? Do we reflect God's abundance - in an audacious vision and our delight in each other, in our trust in God in our values and actions?
In Christ we live and move, he is our gateway, he gives us abundant life. This place too serves as a gateway: a place of inspiration and beauty; welcome and engagement. Our worship, our lives should reflect that abundantly. The Heritage Lottery Fund project is an opportunity to tell God's story and our stories better; deepening our engagement, igniting conversations and contributing to a flourishing and equitable society; or what we call the Kingdom of God. Our family day was one such opportunity to overcome barriers of perception: the board outside the children's chapel reflects the creativity, prayers and hope expressed.
When Conchita Wurst became the 59th Eurovision winner she said: This night belongs to everyone who believes in peace and freedom ... we are unity and we are unstoppable.
Actually that's our line: being united in one body, reliant on God's abundance, the outpouring of grace, peace, liberty and love is unstoppable. Amen.