used at St Andrew's Dawson Street Crook by Ray Anglesea
At our Spring
URC Ministers Retreat a hymn was sung at Evening Prayer from the URC hymn book
– Percy Dearmer’s hymn (528) “Jesus good above all other.” I noticed the word
in the final line of verses 1 and 5 – “give us grace to persevere,” – “and with
joy we’ll persevere”
Persevere. Often people ask me how I am. I usually reply, “Ok,
bashing on, observing the 11th commandment, Thou shalt bash on.”
For most of
us the Christian life is about bashing on, about perseverance. Often it is a
long haul, persisting often amid setbacks and frustrations and continuing to
ask and to seek and to knock at the door. Alas the Christian faith is not like
the final act of a Pantomime at the Durham Gala Theatre where everything is
effortlessly changed so that there is no more uncertainty, no more struggle, no
more darkness and despair. That might indeed be the case if the Christian
gospel was one of cheap grace – of forgiveness without repentance, of healing
without vulnerability, of progress without setbacks and gain without pain.
However, it is not – it is one of costly grace and in the words of the 20th
century German theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “Costly grace is the gospel
which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the
door at which a person must knock.”
Yet
perseverance often brings out the best in people’s character – traits such as
discipline, self control, gratitude, zest, optimism, curiosity, courage and
conscientiousness – what we might call grit: the ability to keep going, to keep
bashing on, despite repeated failures and setbacks. People with perseverance
and grit grow. People without it are either defeated by life’s challenges – or more
likely – become risk averse. They play it safe - although anyone like me who
spends time listening to life stories often comes to marvel at humankind’s
resilience and survival instincts. And that experience of resilience or
survival, changes people, for good or ill, for joy or sorrow.
I am often
fascinated by the stories of people who persevered, who overcame repeated
failure and rejection. The lonely single mother close to destitution who sat in
coffee bars writing children’s novels to earn some money only to find that the
first 12 publishers to whom she sent the manuscript rejected it. She kept going.
Her name is J. K. Rowling. Another book written for children was rejected by 21
publishers. The book was eventually published. It was called Lord of the Flies, and its author
William Golding eventually won the Nobel Prize for Literature. The most famous
failure of our time must be the late Steve Jobs. Three blows of fate shaped his
life: dropping out of university, being fired from the company he founded, Apple, and being diagnosed with
pancreatic cancer. Rather than being defeated by them, he turned them all to
creative use, eventually returning to Apple
and developing 3 of the iconic inventions of our time, the iPod, the iPhone and
the iPad. In 1962 four young men were told at the Abbey Road studios that
guitar bands were on their way out. The verdict was “The Beatles have no future
in showbusines.” J.K Rowling, William Golding, Steve Jobs and the Beatles were
not as far as I know religious people, but some people just persevere, they
have learned to embrace failure instead of fearing it.
Such people
inspire me. On my Christian journey I have discovered that God has faith in me
rather than I have faith in God. He lifts me every time I fail. He forgives me
every time I fail. He believes in me more than I believe in myself. He mends my
broken heart. I never cease to be moved by the words of Isaiah: “Even youths
grow tired and weary and the young may stumble and fall, but those who hope in
the Lord renew their strength, they soar on wings like eagles, they run and
don’t grow weary, they walk and don’t grow faint.”
This year I
thought we might look at a number of biographies of some distinguished
Christians each Sunday in Lent who have persevered in their faith that “great
cloud of witnesses” that the author of the book of Hebrews has it, who despite
constant setbacks, have continued in the faith and who act as a beacon, whose
integrity to the gospel positively inspires us on our journey of faith. We
shall end at the start of Holy week with a twentieth Christian Martyr, one who
gave his life for the gospel that he loved.
Here are my
list of candidates:-
Sunday 9th March: Nelson Mandela (1918-2013)
Sunday 16th March: Gladys Aylward (1902-1970)
Sunday 23 March: Etty (Esther) Hillesum (1914-1943)
Sunday 30th March: Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)
Sunday 6th April: George Eliot (1819-1880)
Sunday 13th April: Oscar Romero (1917-1980)
______________________________________
Nelson Mandela
Sunday 9th March
The Old Testament is based around two stories. One
is about liberation, the other about salvation. The first story we call Egypt.
It’s about how God led the chosen people out of oppression to freedom. The
second story we call Babylon. It’s about how the chosen people were in exile,
but yet discovered a God who grieves our oppression more than we do. The story
of Nelson Mandela brings together these two stories. In prison for 27 years, he
knew the experience of Babylon, of being in exile and of losing his land and
his liberty. But in prison God crafted in him the character that would become
the template for how black South Africans would be delivered from oppression.
And so on his release he took on the mantle of Egypt, he led his people like
Moses and showed them the way to the promised land of a Rainbow Nation. The
great miracle of the exodus from Egypt was the parting of the Red Sea, and in
the miracle of the peaceful transfer of power in South Africa we can see an
echo of that miracle of God.
It would be hard to name a world
figure in the last 30 years more universally respected than Nelson Mandela. Great
injustice is overcome only by great courage. Evil can never be placated, it
must be defeated: that means struggle, and struggles demand courage.
Nelson Mandela showed his courage
by his determination in the face of evil and by his humanity in the experience
of victory. What is more, such courage and humanity were learned and
demonstrated in the mists of conflict and suffering. He was that rarest of
leaders, those who learn from terrible events so as to exhaust all their
lessons, rather than being shaped by them into bitterness and hatred.
In the film Invictus,
which tells the story of the new South Africa against the backdrop of the 1995
Rugby World Cup, the victorious captain Francois Pienaar stands on the platform
to receive the trophy. In a country where rugby represented the old regime,
President Mandela leans toward the captain, and, recognising the unifying power
of this victory, says, ‘Thank you for what you have done for South Africa.’ In
a moment that crystallises the grace and pride of the new rainbow nation,
Francois Pienaar pauses and responds, ‘President Mandela, thank you for what you
have done for South Africa.’
Throughout history, this story of
liberation has been one to which those who are suffering oppression have
turned. It is hard to remember today the full evil of apartheid. Mandela was was baptised in a small Methodist
stone church in the Eastern Cape village of Qunu, he later attended a Methodist
Church School and recalled
how at school, and in every part of his life, he felt its injustice. Oppression
was his life, and those of the vast majority of the people of South Africa.
Even though Mandela led his
revolution through political maneuvers, in his autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom, he
reflected on the work of the church in South Africa regarding the overthrow of
apartheid: “The Church was as concerned with this world as the next: I saw that
virtually all of the achievements of Africans seemed to have come about through
the missionary work of the Church.”
But Mandela had courage that
showed itself in leadership. He stood out, resisted, and fought. He faced the
insult of being labelled a terrorist for fighting for his own people, the
absurdity of trial for treason against an utterly wicked regime. At the height
of the Cold War, with South Africa seen by many as a dependable ally protecting
the seas around the Cape of Good Hope, he had little overseas support. One of
the great pressures of conflict is loneliness: he faced solitude and isolation
and continued the struggle.
Resisting evil is a call of God.
Christians disagree about whether force is justifiable, but are at one that
resistance is essential. Easy to say, how hard to act! More than that, the act
of resistance opens our souls to harm. In fighting hatred, we risk becoming
what we resist. History is full, especially in the 20th century, of evil
overthrown - to be replaced by worse.
Archbishop Tutu commented,
"I often surprise people when I say this. Suffering can lead to
bitterness. But suffering is also the infallible test of the openness of a
leader, of their selflessness. When Mandela had gone to jail, he had been one
of the most angry. The suffering of those 27 years helped to purify him and
grow the magnanimity that would become his hallmark. Jail helped Mandela learn
how to make enemies into friends. It also gave him an unassailable credibility.
When you speak of forgiveness, 27 years in prison sets you up very nicely.”
"27 years in prison sets you
up very nicely." Only someone like Tutu has the right to say that, because
he took the same risks. 27 years, add it to your age, think about what you
would be like at the end. 27 years of hard labour, pointless oppression, petty
insults. Yet in that school of hatred he learned to treasure the ideal of a just
nation. That is a second aspect of his uniqueness. His courage was undefeated,
indomitable, extraordinary. His capacity to go on becoming more human was
breathtaking. His guards grew to respect and even love him. One called him a
father figure, whose absence was a bereavement. Robben Island was defeated by
someone who could take everything it threw at him, and by melting courage into
forgiveness, create the gold of reconciliation.
In the Exodus story God brings
freedom, but the Israelites have to struggle and trust. So it is with us. Jesus
Christ gives us freedom. We must take it and struggle for it and stand for it,
as did Nelson Mandela. And yet there is more.
Peter, one of Jesus’ disciples
looks for (in St Matthew’s gospel), a natural limit to forgiveness. Jesus'
answer says there is no limit. Don't do the arithmetic, learn the point. We are
called to forgive forever. Few manage it. Nelson Mandela was one of the few. He
did not merely call for resistance, he led it. He did not merely demonstrate and
call for forgiveness, he put in place a constitution and governing system that
faced evil and defeated it with truth and reconciliation. Leadership is not
seen merely in policy, but making policy practice. It is what Jesus calls his
followers to do along with him.
And there lies the challenge.
Where do we find those who carry on his and persevere in the work of
reconciliation?
__________________________________
Gladys Aylward
Sunday 16th March
Gladys May Aylward was a British
missionary to China whose story was told in the book The Small Woman by Alan
Burgess published in 1957. In 1958, the story was made into a Holywood movie the
Inn of the Sixth Happiness, starring
Ingrid Bergman.
Born
in London she worked for several years as a parlormaid, and then attended a
revival meeting at which the preacher spoke of dedicating one's life to the
service of God. At the age of 26, she became a probationer at the China Inland
Mission Centre in London, but failed to pass the examinations. As she worked at
other jobs and saved money she heard of a 73-year-old missionary, Mrs. Jeannie
Lawson, who was looking for a younger woman to carry on her work. Gladys wrote
to Mrs. Lawson and was accepted if she could get to China. She did not have
enough money for the ship fare, but did have enough for the train fare, and so
in October of 1930 she set out from London with her passport, her Bible, her
tickets, and two pounds ninepence, to travel to China by the Trans-Siberian
Railway, despite the fact that China and the Soviet Union were engaged in an
undeclared war. She arrived in Vladivostok and sailed from there to Japan and
from Japan to Tientsin, and thence by train, then bus, then mule, to the inland
city of Yangchen, in the mountainous province of Shansi, a little south of
Peking (Beijing). Most of the residents had seen no Europeans other than Mrs.
Lawson and now Miss Aylward. They distrusted them as foreigners, and were not
disposed to listen to them.
Yangchen
was an overnight stop for mule caravans that carried coal, raw cotton, pots,
and iron goods on six-week or three-month journeys. It occurred to the two
women that their most effective way of preaching would be to set up an inn. The
building in which they lived had once been an inn, and with a bit of repair
work could be used as one again. They laid in a supply of food for mules and
men, and when next a caravan came past, Gladys dashed out, grabbed the rein of
the lead mule, and turned it into their courtyard. It went willingly, knowing
by experience that turning into a courtyard meant food and water and rest for
the night. The other mules followed, and the muleteers had no choice. They were
given good food and warm beds at the standard price, and their mules were well
cared for, and there was free entertainment in the evening--the inkeepers told
stories about a man named Jesus. After the first few weeks, Gladys did not need
to kidnap customers -- they turned in at the inn by preference. Some became
Christians, and many of them (both Christians and non-Christians) remembered
the stories, and retold them more or less accurately to other muleteers at
other stops along the caravan trails. Gladys practiced her Chinese for hours
each day, and was became fluent and comfortable with it. Mrs. Lawson sadly suffered
a severe fall, and died a few days later. Gladys Aylward was left to run the
mission alone.
During
her time in Yangcheng Aylward for a time she served as an assistant to the Chinese government as a "foot
inspector" by touring the countryside to enforce the new law against footbinding young Chinese girls. She met with much success in a field
that had produced much resistance, including sometimes violence against the
inspectors. Aylward became a Chinese citizen in 1936 and was a revered figure
among the people, taking in orphans and adopting several herself, intervening
in a volatile prison riot and advocating prison reform, risking her life many
times to help those in need. The people began to call Gladys Aylward
"Ai-weh-deh," which means "Virtuous One." It was her name
from then on.
In
1938, the region was invaded by Japanese
forces. Japanese planes bombed the city of
Yangcheng, killing many and causing the survivors to flee into the mountains.
Five days later, the Japanese Army occupied Yangcheng. The Mandarin gathered
the survivors and told them to retreat into the mountains for the duration. He
also announced that he was impressed by the life of Ai-weh-deh and wished to
make her faith his own. As the war continued Gladys often found herself behind
Japanese lines, and often passed on information, when she had it, to the armies
of China, her adopted country. As the
war progresses Gladys was determined to flee to the government orphanage at
Sian, bringing with her the children she had accumulated, about 100 in number.
With the children in tow, she walked for twelve days. Some nights they found
shelter with friendly hosts. Some nights they spent unprotected on the
mountainsides. On the twelfth day, they arrived at the Yellow River, with no
way to cross it. All boat traffic had stopped, and all civilian boats had been
seized to keep them out of the hands of the Japanese. Eventually a boat was
found and the party crossed, and after a few more difficulties Ai-weh-deh
delivered her charges into competent hands at Sian, and then promptly collapsed
with typhus fever and sank into delirium for several days.
As
her health gradually improved, she started a Christian church in Sian, and
worked elsewhere, including a settlement for lepers in Szechuan, near the
borders of Tibet. Her health was permanently impaired by injuries received
during the war, and in 1947 she returned to England for a badly needed
operation. She remained in England, preaching there.
In
1957, Alan Burgess wrote a book about her, The Small Woman later to become
the film we all know. When Newsweek
magazine reviewed the movie, and summarized the plot, a reader, supposing the
story to be fiction, wrote in to say, "In order for a movie to be good,
the story should be believable!"
__________________________
Etty
(Esther) Hillesum
Sunday 23
March 2014
Etty
Hillesum was from a Dutch Jewish family. After leaving school she studied law
and languages at university in Amsterdam, making a living as a housekeeper and
by giving private lessons in Russian. Etty was intelligent, outgoing and
inquisitive. She felt she could be all over the place at times, lacking
self-discipline and depth. Her diary opens with her describing the gap between
the outwardly social and confident young woman her friends knew and the inwardly
tortured and muddled person she sometimes felt herself to be. Helped by a
psychotherapist friend she began a spiritual search, spending regular times in
meditation. She began to keep a diary, through which she expressed the ups and
downs of her relationships, her quest for a more centred life and,
increasingly, her reliance on God.
With the Nazi occupation
of Holland Etty’s daily life became subject to more and more restrictions. She
refused to go into hiding, not wishing to abandon her fellow Jews, and
preferring to stay with the truth she had come to: that life remains rich and
beautiful if only you remain open to receive it as it is. Eventually she was
moved to a transit camp for Jews in Eastern Holland from where she continued to
write letters to her friends. She was later transferred to Auschwitz.
Etty
Hillesum wrote in her diary: "Sometimes when I stand in some corner of the
camp, my feet planted on earth, my eyes raised towards heaven, tears run down
my face, tears of deep emotion and gratitude." Not a young girl's summer
camp diary; the camp she speaks of was a Nazi death camp. What Etty Hillesum
stands for is gratefulness against all the odds. This makes her shine as an
example for all of us, a witness to sheer enthusiasm for life.
According
to the Red Cross, Etty died, aged 29, at Auschwitz on 30 November 1943. Her
brother Mischa died on 31 March 1944, also at Auschwitz. Etty's
father and mother either died during transport to Auschwitz or were gassed
immediately upon arrival. The date of death given was 10 September 1943.
Her letters and meticulous
diaries survived in the hands of friends and were eventually published. What is
striking in reading them is how as her outer life became more restricted, her
inner self expanded enabling her to face the reality of the suffering within
and around her and still find life meaningful.
In the words of Pope Benedict
XVI, in his first general audience on after his resignation:“...I am also thinking of Etty Hillesum, a
young Dutch girl of Jewish origin who died in Auschwitz. At first far from God,
she discovered him looking deep within her and she wrote: “There is a really
deep well inside me. And in it dwells God. Sometimes I am there, too. But more
often stones and grit block the well, and God is buried beneath. Then he must
be dug out again” (Diaries, 97). In her disrupted, restless life she found God
in the very midst of the great tragedy of the 20th century: the Shoah. This
frail and dissatisfied young woman, transfigured by faith, became a woman full
of love and inner peace who was able to declare: “I live in constant intimacy
with God"...”
Benedict
XVI. "General Audience (Ash Wednesday), 13 February, 2013
