• Easter Sermon 2022

    https://youtu.be/738ChTRb61I?t=2104

    Years ago I remember going on holiday. It was my kind of travel – ferries and trains and buses and then a sailing trip with friends who used to take me despite and not because of my sailing abilities.

    And there was this one morning that I remember. Will always remember. I’d managed to get myself off the boat without much incident. And rowed ashore and went for a walk in the first light of the day.

    And on the walk I heard something. A tiny bird singing. And not just singing but singing its heart out. Trilling its way up and down in a way that even the best singers could only dream of.

    I caught sight of it. And I recognised it. I knew what it was immediately. It was a tiny little wren singing in the morning air.

    And it was one of those special, perfect holiday moments. The kind of thing you never forget.

    And I felt particularly blessed. It was so rare to see a wren and hear it sing. And it sang just for me.

    What a journey it had been to get to hear it. Travelling right across the country. Sailing and paddling my way across the sea. I had come a long way. And it was all worth it for the rare sound of the wren in the morning air.

    It felt like a very special moment.

    Fast forward a few years.

    And lockdown came along.

    And with the first lockdown the instruction to go out and walk every day for half an hour. And I did.

    The world was still. The roads silent. The traffic gone.

    And I got three hundred yards from my front door. Nearer to where I live than we are now.

    And I heard a sound. Familiar.

    Imagine that. I’d heard it once on holiday. So many miles away.

    Well what do you know, I said. Three hundred yards from my front door.

    And I listened and then went on. Another couple of hundred yards. And another tiny bird was singing.

    And then another and then from across the canal, another.

    The lockdowns were long. The pandemic has been long and it isn’t over yet. I think we’ve seen enormous generosity sometimes. And enormous selfishness at others.

    All of human life was changed, but all of human life was there, the best of life and the worst.

    For the last two Easters we have been telling one another the stories of Easter in ways that we never expected to have to do.

    And it was good to do so. But I longed, oh how I longed to be able to bring people together do tell them again in this place.

    For Holy Week matters to me.

    For the stories of Holy Week are our stories of today. Always. All human life is here.

    In Holy Week we encounter the worst of human behaviour.

    A week in which we hear of bitter betrayal by Jesus.

    Violence whipped up by unscrupulous leaders.

    Pilate literally washing his hands to try to pin the blame for the crucifixion on others.

    And a broken man buried with no ceremony, and no proper funeral whilst others celebrated a feast.

    We do not need to look far to see the passion played out in our midst.

    The violence being experienced by Ukraine at the hands of Putin is a real-life crucifixion story.

    The agony of those of us who experienced heart numbingly difficult funerals whilst others partied in Downing Street is a bitter passion tale.

    The suggestion that we should send those seeking refuge in this country on a one-way ticket to Rwanda is a bitter betrayal. A betrayal of this country’s international commitments. A betrayal of those in desperate need. Not one passion story but thousands of stories of people betrayed by those who should offer friendship, fairness and common decency.

    The government’s proposal to export the neediest and the most desperate to a land far away for “processing” is immoral, shameless and obscene.

    I say to the government today – You can’t outsource compassion. We are better than this.

    Seldom was resurrection hope, the message of Easter Day more needed than today.

    But Christians do not simply wring their hands on Easter Day.

    On Easter Day, we proclaim that Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.

    And it isn’t just that if that is possible for Jesus then it could happen to us. The Christian believe is that if that happened to Jesus then it will happen for us.

    It isn’t just our believe that if Jesus gets new life then the world might get new life. It is our conviction that it will! And that it does.

    We believe that death and betrayal, corruption and selfishness, bitterness and anger, violence and destruction… these things will never have the last word.

    These are not things to live by.

    Jesus Christ is risen from the dead and with his rising comes the news that the world is changed.

    We have known love so many times by the pain it has caused us during the pandemic. The pain of separation. The pain of death. The pain of not being able to comfort one another.

    Love is deep within us. And sometimes it hurts.

    But love is the root of God’s mission to the world. Love that will not let us go.

    It was love that brought Jesus into the world. And it is love that reaches into the very depths of hell to haul him out and us with him.

    And it is love that causes us to encounter the world through the resurrection of Christ. Love that tells us to proclaim that new life has come; that death is not the end.

    It is love, love buried deep, deep, deep within us that tells us to hope for, work for and believe in a world where pain and suffering will be gone. Where the tears will be wiped away from every eye.

    Where we will encounter love and hope and joy in every human life so that everyone who lives and breathes on earth may be able to hear that every bird is singing.

    Something happens at Easter which breaks the pattern of sin and death for good.

    And I tell you that it has happened this day.

    For if Christ were not risen from the dead, we would not be gathered here.

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

    Media reports

    Priti Patel’s Rwanda plan ‘immoral, shameless and obscene’, says Glasgow cathedral provost – Scotsman

    Sending asylum seekers to Rwanda a bitter betrayal, says senior church leader – The Times

    Boris Johnson attacked by Glasgow priest over Rwanda scheme and partygate – The National

    Radio Scotland interview with Lucy Whyte – Good Morning Scotland 18 April 2022

4 responses to “To be an Episcopalian is not to be respectable”

  1. Eamonn Avatar

    Superb take on this difficult story from Matthew, and the other stories of Jonathan Daniels and Robin Angus. Thank you.

  2. Philip Almond Avatar

    But Mark records Jesus as saying, ‘Permit first to be satisfied the children;for it is not good to take the bread of the children and to the dogs to throw[it]’. That word ‘first’ tells us that Jesus already knows that there will be a ‘second’, that his ministry will extend beyond the lost sheep of the house of Israel.

    These words of Jesus also suggest that ‘I was not sent except to the lost sheep of [the] house of Israel’ refers to this phase of his ministry.

    Also, if the following incidents were earlier in time than the incident of the healing of the woman’s daughter, your

    ‘In that moment, she seems to know his mission to save the whole world considerably better than he did. And she changes him. He thinks again’.

    is disproved.

    Luke’s account (chapter 4) of the visit to Nazareth, because Jesus’ reference to Naaman and the widow of Sidon suggest that he was aware that his mission, like that of Elijah and Elisha, would extend beyond the covenant people.
    Matthew’s account (chapter 8) of the healing of the centurion’s servant, giving rise to Jesus’ ‘And I say unto you, That many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven. But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth’.
    Jesus’ explanation (Matthew 13) of the parable of the tares of the field: the one sowing the good seed is the Son of man; the field is the world (my emphasis); the good seed are the sons of the kingdom; the tares are the sons of the evil one.

    What are your reasons for being sure that these three events are later in time than the healing of the woman’s daughter?

  3. Martin Reynolds Avatar
    Martin Reynolds

    We do not live for the poor, we do not live with the poor, we do not identify with the poor.
    We wear silk vestment adorn ourselves with elegant titles and eat at the best tables and are welcome in the highest corridors of power.

  4. Sarah Lawton Avatar
    Sarah Lawton

    Kelvin, thank you for your email today pointing back to this sermon. I appreciate your pointing to Jonathan Myrick Daniels, who was a friend of my parents. My mother always felt she had a part in his death, I think, because she was one of the organizers of the seminary group that responded to the Rev. Dr. King’s call for church leaders to go to Selma, and it was she who persuaded Jon to go. One of her last acts on this Earth was to help put his name on our Church’s calendar (first reading, General Convention 1991). But then, we are baptized into Christ and therefore each other, which is I think what you are saying in this sermon. That means we are implicated in the ills of this world but also share in Jon’s martyrdom. We live in the hope of resurrection but the way there is through the utter scandal of the cross. Jon in his latter months of life rejected theologies of complacency and also self-righteousness as he committed himself to a ministry of presence.

    Martin Reynolds, there is no question our particular church tradition has some history with money and power. My own little congregation identifies strongly with the poor, the folks sleeping rough right outside our doors, and the immigrant families of our neighborhood. Our Sunday services can be a little chaotic as a consequence of the varieties of folks in various states of mind who come on a Sunday, but our spiritual life as a congregation is pretty good; it honestly feels like a gift to be there in the communion circle. We’re a longtime LGBT congregation, so I think it’s part of who we are to have economic diversity and also a rejection of traditional social masks. We’re also deeply rooted in prayer, which is how we got through worst of the AIDS years and all the funerals.

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