• Sermon preached for Epiphany 3

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

    Sometimes you have to actually turn up and see things with your own eyes in order to understand what you think you’ve always known.

    I’ve read this section of the gospel plenty of times and it always seemed straightforward to me. Jesus reads to the congregation from the book of Isaiah by way of inaugurating his ministry. And something captivated them. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were upon him.

    I’ve preached on that phrase a few times when this gospel has come around. But not today. Today, I want to stick with the scroll.

    For I remember a couple of years ago getting an invitation to visit a synagogue for a Saturday morning service.

    Now, as it happens, I grew up worshipping in a building that had formerly been used as a synagogue in Leeds. It had been a community in which men worshipped downstairs and the women in an upstairs gallery designed so that the two sexes couldn’t see one another. That had the consequence in later years when it was used as a Christian place of worship that people sitting in the gallery couldn’t see much of what was going on at all.

    But, before anyone starts getting more progressive than thou, don’t forget in passing that there are congregations in Christianity where men and women still sit separately and will worship like that today.

    Any anyway the synagogue I got to visit in Glasgow wasn’t like that. Men and women worshipped together as one congregation, just like we do here.

    The thing that I remembered from my childhood was the shape of an arch that outlined where the ark would have been – the receptacle of the scrolls that are read in worship. It was somewhat grand.

    And when I went to be present at a Jewish morning service, I saw the reverence accorded to the religious text.

    For the opening of the ark was a big deal. It was a big moment. It was dramatic. It was clear that it mattered a huge amount.

    It took three people to get the largest of the scrolls from the ark and lay it out so that the reading for the day could be read.

    It was clearly an awkward thing to do and as they did so, one of the three stumbled and the scroll rocked from side to side.

    And you could feel the tension. Everyone leaned forward. There was a palpable sense of relief when the scroll was steadied. It didn’t fall to the floor but was cradled with great care and devotion.

    I later was told that had the scroll fallen then the whole community would have kept a 40 day period of fasting.

    Imagine that – if we were to have Lent every time anyone dropped a bible in church.

    It was clear that in that place there was much devotion and care. The Torah was treated with respect, love and kindness.

    And I particularly remember on this holocaust memorial day hearing stories there of scrolls and pieces of Torah scrolls that had survived Nazi persecution – when the physical artefacts of the Jewish people were trashed.

    And those fragments of scrolls were spoken of as survivors – using the same language as the language used to describe human beings who survived.

    The words of God had survived to be spoken anew.

    Such was the reverence of those texts in that place.

    And you had to be there to see it. You had to turn up in order to understand a scene that you’ve always thought you knew.

    I guess it was in such a scene as that, that Jesus found his place in the scroll and read the passage of Isaiah for the day.

    I remember 6 years ago on the first night of my sabbatical. I had arrived in Vancouver after a very long day. I was jetlagged and weary and desperately wanted to go to bed. And my hosts met me with the words – “Oh, there’s the installation of a priest this evening – we thought you should come too. Here’s a stole and an alb. You’re coming with us.

    It was one of those times when the joy of the Lord was difficult to find.

    And of course, when I got there I was introduced to the bishop conducting the ceremony as the honoured guest visiting from the Old Country. And so I was ushered to the very front row and sat there with the other bigwigs. On my mouth was a forced smile. In my head it was 5 am in the morning and I had not slept for 22 hours. And my eyes were closing with every verse of the opening hymn.

    And then something happened which made me wake up and realise I was in another country and that the trip was worth making.

    The gradual hymn was announced and we stood up to sing. And as we did so, one of the servers lifted the gospel book up with one hand. A young man with no guile – he made his way in the procession, with great dignity and yet with no inhibitions, dancing the gospel to the centre of the church. It was done with such sincerity and such joy. And the eyes of everyone in the assembly were upon him.

    It was as though all the uninhibited and simple joy of the new world was being expressed in one gesture. We don’t behave like that in this old country. And you know, I loved it.

    It made me realise that I was someplace new. And I was going to have my eyes opened and my ears unstopped every day. And as he danced the gospel into place, my heart began to dance. And I started to wake up in every way possible.

    And I had to have turned up and seen it with my own eyes in order to understand it.

    On some day, in some place, the people gather for morning worship.

    And a young teacher from the local country is  assigned to read the text for the day.

    And we think of his reading of that text as the public inauguration of his ministry.

    What does he start with?

    Does he teach them theology? Does he teach them spirituality? Does he teach them prayer? Does he teach them ethics?

    No – those will all come later in his own little stories and parables and table talk.

    No. He begins with Isaiah. And every word is about social justice and about building a society that is altogether new.

    Good news to the poor.

    Release to the captives

    Sight to those who don’t see.

    Freedom for all who are oppressed.

    And he rolls up the scroll and goes back to his place, and every eye is upon him.

    “Today,” he says,

    “Today, this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing”.

    On this day, can we still see him in our hearts and minds?

    Can we imagine him sitting amongst us?

    Can we work out from the clues that he gives us what the day of the Lord’s favour will look like today?

    Sometimes you have to actually turn up and see things with your own eyes in order to understand what you think you’ve always known.

    What was it you came here today to see?

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

41 responses to “The Columba Declaration”

  1. Edward Andrews Avatar
    Edward Andrews

    As Anglicans get down to the important issue of the niceties of Theology, lets get into the broad brush situation.
    The relationships between the Churches of the Celtic tradition and the Southern tradition have been fraught since the 7th Century (Whitby). Part of the whole question surrounding the war of Independence (and before with King David was teh independence of the Scottish Church.
    The irony is that the present attempt is to bring the Churches of the united Kingdom together may well blow back on them. While the Kirk today doesn’t mean much in Scotland the most secular part of the UK I’m not convinsed that playing footise over Bishops is going to impress the older members – the ones who voted No.
    The fact is that the Scottish Episcopal Church has the Anglican franchise in Scotland. It is an authentic Scottish Church (especially if you ignore the instances when it has gone to England for Episcopal ordination.) and to negotiate over its head about something so sensitive it at the best discourteous.
    Those of the reformed tradition don’t get wound up by the antics of a few Episcopalians. We seek whatever degree of true unity is available to us, but do not see the need for uniformity. I spent some very pleasant years as a guest of the Scottish Episcopal Church when the climate of the Kirk became unattractive to me, and am grateful for the table fellowship which I received.
    The site of two big boys presuming to set things up is not pleasing. For the information of those who want to get up tight about the real presence, that is what the reformed tradition believes, we are Calvinists not followers of Zwingli. I am not going to seek to discuss which Greer philosopher we get our understanding of existence from.

  2. Father David Avatar
    Father David

    Father Ron: let us not forget that the great Arthur Michael Ramsey was born an ecumenical baby. His maternal Grandfather was Vicar of Horbling in Lincolnshire and his paternal Grandfather was a Congregationalist Minister. His Anglican Grandfather baptised him and when in adult years he visited Horbling parish church he was deeply moved when standing by the font – the place where this great man of God began his Christian pilgrim journey. However, as a child he worshipped with his family at the Congregationalist church in Cambridge. To the great benefit of the Church of England and the Anglican Communion – the kind of High Jinks that took place next door at Little St. Mary’s proved to be an attractive magnet and so the pull of Anglo-Catholicism brought to us a spiritual giant and a contender (in company with William Temple) for the title of the greatest Archbishop of Canterbury of the 20th century and a man who yearned and longed for Christian Unity.
    Edward Andrews: Even as we all long and hope for the unity of all Christians your words are wise when you point to unity not uniformity.

  3. Keith Barber Avatar
    Keith Barber

    Cynic I may be, but my first response is to ask what is the hidden agenda. For I’m pretty certain there will be one, whether it’s about trying to create an ecclesiastical bulwark against disintegration of the UK or get ++Welby an ally or two in the aftermath of the huge and hostile reaction to the Anglican Primates’ decision to punish TEC (sorry Kelvin) for its moves towards inclusion of LGBT people.

    1. Jeremy Bates Avatar
      Jeremy Bates

      Or perhaps it’s like the Easter-calendar announcement–a convenient way of changing the subject, at Synod and elsewhere.

  4. Father Ron Smith Avatar

    Whatever the motivation for this ‘secret’ accord with the Church of Scotland; simple courtesy would require that the Church of England promoters consult with their Episcopally governed equivalent in Scotia.

    Another point is this; do the Presbyerians realise that they may have signed up to the catholic premise of recognition of the Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament of the Holy Communion? Are they happy with that?

    1. Edward Andrews Avatar
      Edward Andrews

      Well actually the Presbyterians believe “Worthy receivers, outwardly partaking of the visible elements, in this sacrament, do then also, inwardly by faith, really and indeed, yet not carnally and corporally but spiritually, receive and feed upon, Christ crucified, and all benefits of His death: the body and blood of Christ being then, not corporally or carnally, in, with, or under the bread and wine; yet, as really, but spiritually, present to the faith of believers in that ordinance, as the elements themselves are to their outward senses.” You will see the word real is there. Don’t know what the 39 articles say you believe.
      Those of us who are big on the real presence use the Platonic rather than the Aristotelian understanding of reality.

      1. Father Ron Smith Avatar

        Not believers, then, in con-substantiation? Freely translated as bread and wine ‘together with’ the Body and Blood of Christ? Note, not the more literal trans-substantiation, which would nean the disappearance of the bread and wine. (although as some of my more scientific friends would say, this is a tautology.

        What all must agree on, though, is that some members of the Church of England, and many of its constituent partner Churches of the Anglican Communion, do have a problem with the ‘Real Presence’ – a reality that, for me, and I suspect most Anglican Catholics, means that the substance of the bread and wine consecrated at the Eucharist is truly “The Body and Blood of Christ” in accordance with the dominical instruction: “This IS my Body, my Blood” (Not, you will notice, “this REPRESENTS my Body, my Blood”). ‘A Sacrament is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace’ – this saying sums it all up pretty well, I think

        1. Kelvin Avatar

          I think it is time to draw the discussion about the real presence to a close on this comment thread. It is hardly the main point and I’ve never ever known a comment thread about transubstantiation to be constructive.

          Comments on the Columba Declaration welcome. Comments trying to explain what transubstantiation *really* means – not so much.

          1. Edward Andrews Avatar
            Edward Andrews

            Thank you Kelvin. As I see it the C of E has come poaching in your preserves. This is wrong and unhelpful. If there were going to be Anglican/Presbyterian dialogue the SEC should be the lead player. I have my own problems with the declaration as a Member of the Church of Scotland who seeks an end to the United Kingdom. However as a Catholic Christian I am in solidarity with my SEC brothers and sisters who have been left out of the loop. Both the Cof E synod and the Kirk’ General Assembly should reject the document, but I don’t suppose that they will.

  5. Augur Pearce Avatar
    Augur Pearce

    A contribution to the ‘establishment’ discussion: In my book the terms ‘establish’ and ‘Church of England’ both have more than one meaning. ‘Establish’, for example, can mean ‘set up, bring into existence’ (sense E1), or it can mean ‘endow, privilege’ (sense E2).

    Most people who use it of the C of E use it in sense E2, and they understand the C of E (in what I might call sense C3) as an association with its own rules, distinct from the English nation but privileged by law in various ways (with some concomitant obligations).

    In fact I think this describes the C of S position fairly well, but is quite wrong as regards the C of E. The C of E (I contend) is not distinct from the kingdom of England, it is that kingdom ‘wearing its spiritual hat’ (sense C1). England, as church, has various spiritual responsibilities to discharge, and in order to do so, it establishes (=creates; sense E1), by its law, a complex of specialist institutions, offices, rules, and assets which itself becomes known derivatively as the C of E (sense C2).

    One clear example of how the C of E (in sense C1) and the C of S have been differently understood from very early times is found in comparing Richard Hooker’s well-known words ‘There is not any man of the Church of England, but the same man is also a member of the commonwealth, nor any man a member of the commonwealth which is not also of the Church of England…’ with the Church Act 1567, declaring those ‘quha outher gainsayis the word of the Evangell ressavit and apprevit as the heidis of the Confessioun of Faith professit in Parliament of befoir in the yeir of God 1560 … or that refusis the participatioun of the haly sacramentis as thay ar now ministrat, to be na memberis of the said Kirk within this realme now presently professit’.

    The Church of England, in short, is simply England; the Church of Scotland is a privileged sectional group.

    1. Seph Avatar
      Seph

      If this be so, it strikes me as uncomfortably caesaropapist. This may be one of the things that makes me uncomfortable when I am down south and find myself in a C of E church.

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