• Sermon – Reading the Signs of the Times

     

    In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

    One of the nicest things that I’ve been at this week was the annual dinner that the Shia Muslim community put on to celebrate Eid-al-adha. The festival of the sacrifice.

    Islam has the same story that Christians and Jews share, remembering Abraham being asked to sacrifice his son, only for God to provide a sheep to be sacrificed at the last minute. The only difference being that our Muslim friends speak of the son saved from being sacrificed as Ishmael – the son the Arab people believe themselves to be descended from. Christians and Jews tell the story about Isaac – the one they believe themselves to be descended from. Same story. Different son.

    The feast of the sacrifice is the biggest festival in the Islamic year and coincides with the days when the largest crowds are completing the hajj pilgrimage in Mecca.

    Christians don’t keep any festival over that story. It crops up in the lectionary but by and large we don’t particularly celebrate it.

    In Islam it is a day for celebration. For sharing food with those who have less than you do and for partying.

    And in Scotland, the Shia community has developed its own tradition of having a banquet for Eid and this week I was invited.

    Now, I always say yes when the Shias invite me to a party as I know that there will be all kinds of interesting people there.

    One of the interesting paradoxes of life is that though the ecumenical movement is in the doldrums, one of the places where I get to meet Christians from other Christian traditions is when Muslims invite us all together for food.

    And thus I found myself enjoying a very good curry and sitting next to someone who runs a Roman Catholic agency dedicated to eliminating poverty across the world and someone else working on ecological concerns and theology.

    It was fascinating to hear them talk to one another. And frightening too.

    The first people to suffer from Climate Change are the first people to suffer every time something happens to the world – the poor, the needy, the hungry.

    At the dinner table, these two people had much in common to talk about.

    I found myself asking one of them what theological ideas he was working on at the moment when thinking about ecological theology.

    He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Well all we have to do these days is reach for the apocalyptic – that’s what describes the world we live in now”

    And that sense of reaching for the apocalyptic has stayed with me all week and stays with me as I read this morning’s gospel.

    There’s more than a hint of the apocalyptic about it.

    Firstly the claim from Jesus himself that he will pit father against son and daughter against mother and all the rest.

    I see Christ as a peacemaker but he didn’t see himself like that.

    Reading this text after two divisive referendums and paying even a passing glance at social media, we can see all kinds of people who once got on, at odds with one another. How common it has become to see people as being set against one another.

    He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat’; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?

    Our world is full of people who do not know how to interpret the present time.

    None of us I suspect quite know how we have ended up in the world of 2019. I am amongst those who didn’t expect to see racism and antisemitism rising, acceptance of same-sex couples stalling and xenophobia becoming a major political narrative.

    I just don’t know whether there were signs of the times. I do just know that I didn’t read them correctly.

    And I do just know that the signs of the times when it comes to the climate are there for all to see.

    “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat’

    We don’t need to be told that clouds mean rain here in the West of Scotland. But somehow we do need to comprehend that it isn’t climate change we are talking about but climate disaster.

    Some faith communities have been talking about this for far longer than we have. There are thinkers in the orthodox churches who are way ahead theologically than we are.

    It is looking increasingly likely that next year there will be a big climate conference in Glasgow. World leaders will (ironically) fly in from across the globe. Experts and policy makers will gather to try to find next steps in tackling the climate emergency.

    If that takes place here, the churches and all people who care must be ready to speak out in the name of God for those whose voices so often go unheard – the poor of the world who need good news.

    The signs of the times are all around us.

    I spent Tuesday evening celebrating the feast of the sacrifice with Muslim friends.

    A sense of sacrifice is inherent to protecting our world – being prepared to do without in order to save the very world in which we live.

    If we are prepared to find a new ethic and a new economics of sustainability and care then God will bless us.

    If we are prepared to sacrifice the very bounty and goodness of the earth for our own gain, then we face peril. And the apocalyptic won’t simply be something we reach for in order to predict what will happen next.

    I believes that God loves this world and that God loves you. I believe that God loves the world and God loves me. And I believe that God’s love for the world will be expressed through both action and compassion.

    The duty that Christians have in a world as perilous as this one has become is to frame our questions not by how we will benefit from the answers that we find but how our answers will benefit the poor.

    God’s love is especially for the poor. And we are called to express that very same love in action.

    That reading from Hebrews that we heard this morning was a great song of praise to those who have kept the faith through generations. Faith in a God of love who calls us to love.

    A great cloud of witnesses – that no matter what, Christians have gone on expressing the love of God through whatever terrors faced each day.

    Antisemitism. Xenophobia. Selfishness. The Climate Emergency.

    We are one with the Great Cloud of Witnesses who proclaimed the love of God in their generation and acted on it.

    And we will keep the faith.

    God’s love is real.

    And requires us to act in our day.

     

9 responses to “The Lament Question”

  1. kimberly Avatar

    ask it in the singular, and the answer is: because you’re a four.

    you’ll have me playing the funeral ikos next.

  2. kimberly Avatar

    the other answer is about possibility being revealed in limits.

  3. kelvin Avatar

    Its not just me though, and not just fours.

  4. Aaron Orear Avatar

    I think because sorrow touches the core of the human condition – we are mortal but can perceive immortality. “He has made everything suitable for its time; moreover he has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.” (Eccl. 3:11)

  5. Erp Avatar
    Erp

    I understand Aristotle talks about catharsis and various philosophers have followed up on that idea.

    Perhaps it arouses sadness both from the art itself but also from our own sources festering within and allows us to let go. We feel better for the letting go, the lessening of our own internal sadness, and so perceive the art as beautiful.

  6. RosemaryHannah Avatar
    RosemaryHannah

    Kimberly was there before me. However, even I, a nine, can sometimes see the beauty in sad things. For me they do two things (may be more but two are most obvious). The first is the catharsis thing. The second is to make me less lonely. Look, here am I weeping, but all around me people sit in the same sorrow. It is not just my sorrow – I am not alone.

    I have long thought there is another answer, one I do not properly understand but I have (I think – and who am I to think it). Deep in God there is a huge well of sorrow. Unless we experience sorrow we cannot understand God. When we sorrow we tap into that well, and become closer to him.

    And being a nice cheerful nine, I will now add that I live in hope that having sorrowed with him, we will share also and even more fully in the joy which swallows the sorrow. Delete this last paragraph from your mind on reading, it will only spoil the joy of the sorrow.

  7. Elizabeth Avatar
    Elizabeth

    Edgar Allan Poe said the most beautiful thing in the world is a beautiful, dead woman. Nice, eh?

  8. Ritualist Robert Avatar
    Ritualist Robert

    Surely it’s because the concept of beauty is independent from concepts such as ‘sadness’ and ‘happiness’ – just as a G major chord might be loud or soft, but that volume has no effect on its G major-ness.

  9. Steve Avatar
    Steve

    I remember Augustine saying (don’t ask me where) that for a picture to be beautiful it requires dark colours as well as bright.

    There is also a hint of an answer in this poem by Edwin Muir:

    Yet still from Eden springs the root
    As clean as on the starting day.
    Time takes the foliage and the fruit
    And burns the archetypal leaf
    To shapes of terror and of grief
    Scattered along the winter way.
    But famished field and blackened tree
    Bear flowers in Eden never known.

    Blossoms of grief and charity
    Bloom in these darkened fields alone.
    What had Eden ever to say
    Of hope and faith and pity and love
    Until was buried all its day
    And memory found its treasure trove?
    Strange blessings never in Paradise
    Fall from these beclouded skies.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Posts

  • Mixed feelings about the Church of England vote on bishops

    I’ve very mixed feelings about the vote that has just taken place in the Church of England Synod regarding the question of whether that church should allow women to be able to made bishops. On the one hand, I know some of the women who are likely to be made bishops and I know the…

  • Sermon – the parable of the sower

      The church is completely obsessed with one topic. Whenever you go to church meetings there is one thing that dominates everything and has done so for at least the last 15 or 20 years. We talk about it endlessly. Whether it is local regional chapters, diocesan synod, General Synod or even the meetings of…

  • Lord Carey is wrong (and not for the first time)

    The ability of Lord Carey to dominate the headlines during the synod of the Church of England is something that is a wonder of modern ecclesiastical communications. If I were working in the communications machine of the C of E, I’d despair of the former archbishop’s ability to step into the limelight just when one…

  • Where to get started with the Bible

    Reading the Bible isn’t optional for Christians – it is part of what makes us who we are. However, there’s no doubt that some people find it daunting and don’t know where to start. Personally, I wouldn’t recommend starting at the beginning and working through to the end. It starts OK with some interesting and…