In the name of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
I was at a clergy conference some years ago down in England. At the end of the evening meal one evening, someone suddenly said, “what is the most stupid prayer you ever heard”.
And I have to say that there then followed a very funny half hour as the various clergy from all different kinds of churches put their bids in for the most stupid prayer that they had ever heard.
The winner was – “And Lord, we pray for Beirut… which is in the Lebanon”
And perhaps inevitably, and perhaps more uncomfortably for clergy, the evening went on to a further discussion when someone asked – what is the most stupid sermon you ever heard?
I wonder how you would answer.
I can think of a number of contenders. Very high on my list is a sermon that I heard whilst on holiday some years ago when the preacher began with the words, “In this sermon, I want to explore the question of whether there is resurrection on the moon”.
It didn’t get better than that. The preacher argued amongst himself about whether or not there was resurrection on the moon. And then ended with the words, “…there is of course so much to say that it is impossible to answer this in one sermon, so think of this as part 1. I’ll come back with a definitive answer next week. Amen”.
I never heard the second sermon.
I still don’t know the answer.
I still don’t know whether there will be resurrection on the moon.
And I never really knew what that question meant in the first place.
Which maybe brings us to the Sadducees and the story they brought to Jesus.
Now, one of the extraordinary things about Jesus is the stories that he told.
In just a few lines of text, he left behind him stories which still have resonance with the world today. Some stories which seem perplexing, many which are enlightening. The parables. The prodigal child. The good Samaritan.
They are phenomenal stories which still have the capacity to stop us in our tracks.
And a lot of the gospel readings that we get in church are Jesus telling a story and sometimes we get to hear of those around him talking about the story.
In this Sunday’s story, that dynamic is turned on its head.
Other people tell Jesus a story and ask him to interpret it.
The Sadducees spun him a yarn and asked him to interpret it as a bit of a test.
I’m not sure that we know that much about the Sadducees other than that they were a religious group that didn’t accept that resurrection happened. And in telling their story they are setting Jesus a test. Was he one of them or one of their enemies?
There was this woman who married her man and then he died before they’d had children.
So his brother married her. And he died.
And the next brother married her. And he died.
And his brother married her. And he died.
And the next brother married her. And he died.
And his brother married her. And he died.
And the last brother married her. And he died.
And then she died.
Presumably exhausted.
Whose wife will she be in the resurrection they say.
(They were being sarcastic remember – they didn’t believe in the resurrection anyway).
How would you answer them.
You might have something to say about this woman being treated as the property of a bunch of men.
Patriarchy is strong in this one!
I think if I’d been Jesus I’d have been tempted to roll my eyes and just say, “Well they are all deid anyway. What does it matter.”
And in a way, he does kind of say that. But he does affirm that he believes in a resurrection – but seems pretty clear that his view was that human ordinances are for our earthly existence. And that our being with God will so dominate our heavenly existence that such questions simply die away.
It is a bit like asking whether there is resurrection on the moon.
The idea of resurrection isn’t about sorting out who is whose husband. We have this life to do that – if that is what we are looking for. Some of us doing rather better at it than others.
It is the case that now as then, there are religious people who manage to worship together who have different views about what will happen when we die.
Right at the focal point of this building is a piece of art which clearly addresses what some people were feeling. The reredos behind the High Altar is our Second World War memorial. And the painting on it puts three women at the tomb looking for a body and an angel with rainbow wings is very clearly saying – he is not here he is risen.
It isn’t difficult to see why those who had experienced war at first hand and who were themselves mourning those who never came back wanted to place such an image centre stage in a church such as this one.
They had been to hell and back.
An experience that is not confined to war.
The reading from the second letter to the Thessalonians that we have this morning is the first of several that we get as we approach the end of the church year in a couple of weeks time.
The world for the author of 2 Thessalonians is falling apart. Lawlessness is rife and deception is all around. If feels as though the end times are just around the corner.
I’ve often thought that this world view felt far away. But not so much at the moment.
The author tells their audience to continue to give thanks, stand firm to the traditions they have learned and feel the real comfort of God’s love and grace.
That comfort is not described as being transitory, nor even long lasting. It is described as being eternal.
As all seems to be falling apart the author says, the God who loves us gives us grace and good hope.
Not a stupid sermon.
The only sermon worth hearing.
Grace. Love. Hope.
For ever.
12 responses to “Do you believe that God intervenes in the world?”
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I think this is probably the best way to think about prayer. When you say the world is affected by praying people, are you saying there is a link between prayer and improved behaviour or increased charity etc ?
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Well, I guess if I think that I’m changed by prayer, I probably hope that it affects me for the better.
I might even be prepared to say that unless prayer changes the person praying, it probably isn’t being done right at all.
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Thanks for this thoughtful piece.
I agree with you wholeheartedly that prayer is about me being silent before God for a moment. Such a silence is so necessary in the midst of our busy lives and busy minds.
But I do believe in healing – physical, emotional, and spiritual. I have no experience of physical healing but I have plenty of experience of the emotional kind. As someone who was left very angry and full of shame following an episode of abuse as a young child, I have certainly known God’s love wash away those feelings as I have been prayed for by friends.
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Before I ever ventured into the concept of prayers being answered, my journey took me to a place where I asked myself “who or what is this G-d I am communicating with?”
My idea of g-d has nothing to do with an old man with a long beard sitting in the clouds looking down on us, but rather a positive spiritual consciousness that we are all connected to.
When I pray I tap into this consciousness and often prayer, when used as a form of meditation, brings to me the answers I need, even sometimes realising that they are not rhe answers I want.
Does g-d intervene? In my interpretation definitely yes. But not necessarily in the way we traditionally expect. Intervention from G-d in my life has always involved realisations as to how I should deal with the very personal things I pray about and for. I have often cleared my mind for prayer in Church and found unthought of solutions to my problems come rushing into the void.
As for tangible interventions such as g-d curing cancer, I think we find ourselves dealing with similar spiritual issues such as destiny, freedom of choice and the like which become interwoven with our concept of prayer and its use and usefulness.
I do believe prayer brings healing too, but I could write a blogpost of my own about that.
The question is a huge one, and if we can accept that the answer we get is not always the one we’re seeking then the value of prayer becomes priceless, regardless of our religious/spiritual path.
I dont comment often, but I couldnt resist replying, sorry for the long reply.
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What do we mean by ‘intervene’??
Not perhaps a foolish question. Let me put it another way, or rather let me borrow from Terry Pratchett/Neil Gaiman the words they put in the mouth of their sorely tempted (to save the world) Christ figure, a small boy: ‘Seems to me, the only sensible thing is for people to know that it they kill a whale they’ve got a dead whale.’ I am fond of saying that God lets us run around barefoot in the snow until we see the good sense in wearing wellies in it. The only way the world works is if it has consequences.
That said, I think there are ways he does intervene.
As regards prejudice – I’m with Shaw and Pratchett on that too – thoughts are too powerful to be let to run into paths which corrupt and anything that stops us seeing the equal worth of the life and love of another is downright evil. While people are made miserable, or made to suffer consequences, because their skin is one or another colour, or they love their own gender, or anything else which stops us valuing the person before us, then we can never let such attitudes breed in ourselves, or go unchallenged when they pass before us, whatever the cost. This is a quite different thing from disagreeing on matters which are almost certainly so complex that we struggle to understand them almost as much as my dogs struggle to understand when happens when I to work, and how that links into the bowls of food which turn for breakfast each day.
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Far be it from me to say what is and isn’t god or to doubt your experience but it could be said that your example of intervention is a common result from any meditation, religious or otherwise.
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Yes, that’s right.
But that doesn’t prove a great deal either. It could simply show that God is with those who least suspect that God is with them. (Which would fit rather with some of the ways in which Christians do understand God).
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Just came across this…
Lord, I do not presume to tell you what to do,
or how and when to do it.
I simply bring before you
people who need your love,
and needs which your grace alone can meet.
Let love reign, O my God.
Let grace avail. -
All the same, I do not wholly discount the possibility that God might have so structured things that he does actually need our help in praying for actual events (healing eg.)
IF there IS ‘non-medical healing’ (and plenty of people believe in it) it would be just like God to so structure it that it is hard for him to do alone. He has, after all, structured justice that way, and absolutely enjoined us to join him in pursuing it. (FWIW, I believe that in the parable it is God who is the Importunate Widow).
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I’m inclined to agree.
Panentheistic immanence implies God is already *in* (and, indeed, permeating through) the world so the idea of intervention becomes moot.
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I believe that above all God really really wants us to grow up, take responsibility and help in his work – I believe most things are set up to draw us into this.
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I like that Tim – I think that yes ‘intervention’ fails to grapple with immanence.
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