• Sermon preached on 9 December 2018 – People Look East!

    [Apologies for the poor audio in the video this week]

    “People Look East!” the prophet Baruch commanded in our first reading. And he wasn’t talking about Edinburgh.

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

    “Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height;
    look towards the east” says Baruch, echoed rather brilliantly in the Advent Carol that the choir will be singing at communion this morning.

    People look East. But what is so special about the East?

    The truth is, at different times and in different places, people seem to allow tradition to hang on various points of the compass.

    When I was a newly ordained priest, I worked in our cathedral in Perth and in those days, you proclaimed the gospel in a particular way.

    We make much of the fact that the gospel is proclaimed right amongst the people here. The idea is that the gospel book is brought right amongst people as we remember that Jesus himself came amongst us and shared our tears and laughter and humanity whilst sharing the stories and chatter and love of heaven with us.

    God’s coming amongst us is enacted ever time we raise the gospel book and carry it amongst the people and read it there.

    Oh, but not when  I was a curate in Perth. Yes, sure enough we processed the gospel to the middle of the church and everyone turned and looked at it. But whoever was reading it took a curious right turn when they got there and very definitely proclaimed it in a certain direction.

    The gospel in Perth was proclaimed to the North – a lingering liturgical tradition that was common in Scotland and the Nordic countries at some times. You proclaimed the gospel to the North because it was the North that needed it. The place where all the cold came from and in so many northern myths, where all the ghosts and Ghoulies came from.

    In some parts of Scandinavia they don’t have windows on the North side of a church in order to keep the cold and the Ghoulies firmly at bay.

    So every time I read the gospel in my curacy, I did that right turn, and proclaimed the gospel to the North.

    It was a rather picturesque liturgical tradition, even if it did seem to make is appear that the devil lived in Pitlochry.

    Just a few months before going to Perth, I found myself in the desert in Egypt, exploring the spirituality of the desert fathers – monks who still live there.

    (It is amazing the amount of effort and creativity Scottish ordinands at that time were putting into not being in Edinburgh where they were supposed to be training for ordination, but that’s another story).

    Anyway, I was in the desert and the most extraordinary storm blew up. A sandstorm you could see coming towards you right across the horizon.

    And it brought terror not only to those I was staying with in the Wadi Natrun monasteries but terror on the streets of Cairo. Was it the ferocity of the storm that caused the terror? Well, partly – it was the kind of storm you might wait 50 years for and hugely destructive.

    But the terror was caused by its direction. The tradition in that part of the world is that Armageddon, the war that ends all things will come from the South. And that storm came very much from the South.

    People look East, Baruch says.

    Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height;
    look towards the east,

    and see your children gathered from west and east
    at the word of the Holy One,
    rejoicing that God has remembered them.

    So who is Baruch and what’s this all about.

    My suspicion is that not that many people would be able to easily find the book of Baruch, never mind be able to say much about who Baruch was.

    Well, we know Baruch’s words already. He was Jeremiah’s scribe, disciple, devotee and some have even speculated bidie-in.

    He travelled with Jeremiah into exile and it was he who preserved the prophet’s words and popularised them.

    So the Book of Baruch – obviously his own prophetic writings, right?

    Well, not so fast. If only early religious writings worked like that.

    No – the book of Baruch is named after him. Someone not so much passing themselves off as him as taking up his tradition.

    So even though these words are not by Baruch himself, they are by someone wanting  us to remember him and Jeremiah being carted off into exile.

    Exile in Babylon.

    Yes, exile in the East.

    Whoever bids us to look to the east is reminding us of those who were carted off to Babylon.

    But is it the remembrance of lament? No.

    Is it the remembrance of bitterness? No.

    Is it the remembrance of hatred and despair? A thousand times no.

    Arise, O Jerusalem, stand upon the height;
    look towards the east,
    and see your children gathered from west and east
    at the word of the Holy One,
    rejoicing that God has remembered them.
    For they went out from you on foot,
    led away by their enemies;
    but God will bring them back to you,
    carried in glory, as on a royal throne.

    People look East says the Book of Baruch – and see those of the East and of West united in joy.

    And in that joy, this new Baruch remembers all the prophesies of justice from Isaiah that a royal way be made by levelling the ground for all people. High places made plain, valleys lifted up and all the people of God treated as royalty.

    It is the same memory that the Baptist has in the gospel. The valleys being filled and the hills be made low and all flesh seeing salvation.

    The Baptist proposes a baptism of repentance surely necessary.

    Baruch proposes what seems like a baptism of joy. Also necessary.

    The baptism of repentance necessary because things are not right yet and we must commit to turn our lives around in order to turn this world back to rights.

    And being baptised by, drenched by, suffused by joy because the Lord will never forget his exiled people.

    No matter how far we feel from a place of justice and peace and integrity and honesty and goodness and plenty, the Lord calls us back to that place.

    And we return to that singing. And full of joy.

    For God will lead us with joy, in the light of his glory, with the mercy and righteousness and love that come from him.

    From the north and from the south, from the east and from the west, we are called to abide together in the kingdom where love is the rule and love the ruler.

    Behold. Behold. In these advent days, know that the kingdom of justice and peace and love and joy is coming soon.

    With a human face.

    Amen.

9 responses to “Who we are”

  1. Susan Sheppard Hedges Avatar
    Susan Sheppard Hedges

    I have a question… What were the genders of these two persons?

    1. kelvin Avatar

      Person 1 was male. Person 2 was female.

  2. Suz Cate Avatar
    Suz Cate

    I arrived here in June, after graduating from the fine institution where you are visiting now and my subsequent ordination as transitional deacon. When I am ordained to the priesthood in December, I will be the first woman to serve as priest at St. James. I have sensed a growing excitement, especially among the women here, about the ministry of a woman priest–not unlike the the frisson expressed in the visitor’s statement: “Really? Wow! All this, and divorce and women priests.” We are figuring out together what difference it makes who we are, and on most days it is exciting!

  3. Calum Avatar
    Calum

    I think the exchange is completely adorable. But also bang-on accurate. The Piskies are indeed “the ones with woman priests” – it’s not a bad moniker to be known by, is it? Although progress is still to be made in certain parts, I think it’s positive that that might be how some people identify and distinguish Episcopalians.

  4. Tracey Avatar
    Tracey

    The first time I attended an Episcopal church (in California), and they invited me to a picnic afterward on the church grounds. I agreed to stay on, but was kind of dreading it… and then I saw the ice chests full of cans of lager. So yeah, I have to admit that it was at first beer and later, divorce (both of which had caused me to become ostracised from my family) and women priests (i’d been brought up in a fundamentalist church where women were to keep silent in church) that made me become really interested in finding my way into this wonderful, welcoming, non-judgemental, and inclusive group where hell-fire and brimstone and damnation and punishment were never a part of the lovely, uplifting and inspiring sermons.

  5. Nädine Daniel Avatar

    Well in one way, the lack of awareness is pretty depressing, but the willingness to give the Cathedral a try would be encouraging, where it not for the perception that divorce made a denomination more acceptable. Frankly I don’t care what brings someone into a Church, any Church; just so long as we make them want to stay and discover the love of Christ once they get there.

  6. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    I come to this from another angle – a liberal church background. It does not come to me as a surprise to hear women preach, teach and lead. I rejoice in it but the equality of women is no news to me

    Divorce – well, to me it is never more than an admission of failure. Not something to be celebrated and welcomed, but a sad admission that things which started so very happily and hopefully and with such love, have ended in heartbreak. That my sometime husband left me for another woman in the church came pretty close to breaking my heart, and was one of those knife-edge things. A thing where either there will be just damage and misery and loss, or one day a resurrection, and you do not know which. That for me the balance finally tipped to life does not mean that divorce is something I want to rejoice in as I do in the ministry of women.
    That God can turn evil to good is a blessing. It does not do however to continue in evil that He gets a better opportunity at such transformations. I would a jolly sight rather we were known for work for social justice, for respect for the environment, and for really positive things.

    Beauty however – whether sound or image or architecture or the spoken word – yes I love us to be known for that and I rejoice in it.

    1. kelvin Avatar

      I suspect that what we may really talking about here is not actually divorce, but the question of whether divorce and remarriage bars one from communion.

  7. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Recently our Government had the stunning idea that ‘victims’ ought to be choosing the sentences of those who had offended against them. This is my idea of a utter nightmare – to have not merely the need to undertake one’s own recovery, for which one is of course responsible, but to then have to undertake some responsibility for the rehabilitation of those who have offended one strikes me as a bridge too far. I could never ask that somebody is turned away from communion because of an offence against me, and therefore I cannot ask that they are turned away because of a sin against others. I don’t really believe in that kind of God.

    Yet there is a problem. Of all the bad moments I had over the divorce, one of the very worst was the moment I walked alone into church and saw in a prominent pew my husband, who had left but from whom I was not yet legally separated, sitting shoulder to shoulder with his new partner. I ended in the nearest pew on my knees, helplessly sobbing, unable to hide my distress. That should not happen to anybody and it should not be up to the ‘victims’ (however much we espouse a doctrine of equal blame for marriage failure) to protect themselves from such a thing.

    I took communion every week with the lady with whom my husband now lived, and every week I had to forgive her anew in order to offer the Peace and forgive her. It was, to put it mildly, a big ask. That, to me, is the essential reality of divorce, and I really, really, really do have the right to say that we may have divorce and we may have to live with it, but the reality of it is pain and hard hard work. I find no ‘Wow!’ anywhere in it. It was hard and bitter punishment for all the stupid things I had managed to do in 30 years of marriage.

    There is always a cost to be borne for such things. We believe in forgiveness and fresh starts, and I must suppose the ‘Wow!’ is for that – but such things are costly. I believe they are always costly for God, and most usually they are costly for humans too. I don’t want humans judged, but – but where the joy of person A is bought at the price of the pain of person B we need to tread exceedingly circumspectly.

Leave a Reply

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

Previous Posts

  • Gender Segregation in Universities and Elsewhere

    Having been involved in university chaplaincy a couple of times, the issue of gender segregation in universities that has come up in the news is not a new thing for me to think about. There have been a couple of news reports about issues surrounding Islamic groups in universities this week and quite a lot…

  • Rudolphus

    I’m not sure who is responsible for translating Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer into latin and setting it to plainsong. Whoever it was, they have earned an Advent Blessing and a Tip of the Biretta from me. You can hear it here:

  • Mary Magdalene – Pray for Us

    Am terribly saddened to hear news just in from the Bishop of California that two of the icons of Grace Cathedral in San Francisco have been destroyed. One was of John Donne and this one was of Mary Magdalene. I saw her every day when I spend three weeks living at Grace Cathedral last year.…

  • Free at Last

    Above all, we want equal political rights, because without them our disabilities will be permanent. I know this sounds revolutionary to the whites in this country, because the majority of voters will be Africans. This makes the white man fear democracy. But this fear cannot be allowed to stand in the way of the only…