The Gospel in English

Sermon preached by John Durell at the inaugural English Language Service in Khovo Church, Maputo  7-August-2011

Perhaps I am the only one here today who learned English at his mother’s knee. I never had to sit down and study “I am, you are, he/she/it is…” I never had to think about why today I go, but yesterday I went, and not I goed. I admit that when I was a little older and went to school I struggled just as many of you will have with spelling – but by that time the English language was a part of me. I had taken it in with my mother’s milk. Wasn’t I lucky?

And yet, if I’m lucky compared with you, I also feel that I am very poor compared with you. I fear I may be the only person here who can confidently speak only one language. Hillian, in case you are wondering, does not speak English as a first language. But since it’s over forty years since I took her away from her own country and her own Dutch language, she must have spoken more English than anything else  in her lifetime. But like you, she had to learn it. And over the years we have been together I have often envied the way she has learned to speak other languages (some fluently, others less so); and I have come to see how much richer life is if, like all of you, we can think and express ourselves in a variety of languages. Languages reflect the rich diversity of our human life.

So it’s bit of a shock to turn to this ancient story of Babel, and to find that this rich variety of languages is seen to be not a blessing, but a curse. Here are people who seem very much like us: they are ambitious, they want to progress, they want their society to develop. Just as in our world today, new technologies in Babel mean that things are possible that could never be achieved before. We know very little about ancient civilizations that built only in wood, for even in hot climates the wood has rotted away. But learn to bake bricks, and build high with those bricks – and you make a name for yourself. You are remembered. Leave the villages behind and move to the city, and there are enough people to take on big projects. Today, for the first time in history, there are more people in our world who live in cities than in the countryside. For the first time in history, there is more land, more earth, moved every year by human beings and our machines than is moved by rivers and seas and all the forces of nature. Like the citizens of Babel, we, it seems, are set to “make a name for ourselves”.

But in this ancient story, this is the point at which God intervenes. We are not told exactly why, but clearly there is the idea that the people of Babel are going too far.  God reasons to himself that “there will be nothing beyond their reach”. It is not a bad thing to have ambition for ourselves. It is not a bad thing to seek to develop our society. But of course if we are listening for what God may be saying to us today, we will want our schemes and our plans to enrich not just our own lives, but our neighbours’ lives as well. The highest towers in our world today are being built in Dubai and the Gulf States, but they are nothing but the playthings of the rich. And in our global society there are many many things that are possible that once were never dreamed of, but not all of them will help us to be better human beings. No doubt God still looks down and thinks “There is nothing now beyond their reach.”

But what has this to do with languages? Perhaps this confusion of languages is a way of saying that we have got out of step with God. In all these ancient stories, God is the one who speaks. His word creates the heavens and the earth and everything in them. God is the one who speaks to his creatures, t o the man and the woman whom he sets in the paradise garden – and he still speaks to them, even when sin has driven them out. God speaks to Noah, and gives him boat-building lessons so that he and his family are saved from destruction. And through the sign of the rainbow, God speaks a word of promise, a covenant promise, to all humanity – to you, and to me, and even to the builders of Babel.

But if God speaks, we need to listen. Listening should be easy: ears are not like eyes, which we open and shut. Our ears are open all the time. Yet listening is not always easy – and listening becomes harder and harder when other languages are around us. Some people at Khovo kindly talk to me in English, and I listen carefully. But then they start talking to one another in Portuguese, and I begin to switch off. And because I’m no longer part of the conversation, they may even lapse into Ronga or Shangana, and because I’m not listening I don’t even notice. The people of Babel have not been listening to God. They haven’t thought about whether their big building schemes suit his eternal purposes of good. But because they forget to listen to God, they soon discover that they cannot even listen to one another. The human story becomes a story of tragedy when communication breaks down and people go off on their different ways, in different directions. Different languages, which might have reflected the richness of our varied human life, instead become a measure of our divisions. We can no longer speak to one another: we no longer hear one another.

Except that in the Bible, of course, the story of the Tower of Babel is balanced by the story of the Day of Pentecost. When the followers of Jesus find the courage to share the good news of his death and his resurrection, they receive this wonderful gift of the Spirit; and they discover that the streets of Jerusalem, which had previously been a babble of every language under the sun, echo to a single language that allows everyone to hear the great things God has done. Into this world of confusion the Spirit brings understanding. What was confused now becomes clear. And at that moment God makes his people one again.

If only we could recapture that moment. But of course there are still other forces at work in the world – and even in the Church; and if we have experience of petty jealousies and envy and things that divide us rather than unite us: well Paul knew all about these things too, and particularly when he was dealing with this church at Corinth. Here were people who knew all about that wonderful day of Pentecost in Jerusalem: you never know, some of them may even have been there. And they now knew that when they threw themselves into the life of the Spirit, they could talk in tongues – they could talk in a language that wasn’t anything like English or Portuguese or any local language that we could ever imagine, but which they liked to think was the language of God, the language of heaven.

Here in Corinth people were speaking this language, speaking in tongues, at the Sunday service. Fair enough, says Paul, if this is a gift that God has given you: but don’t be so proud of it. Don’t think that this is a the greatest gift that there is. It becomes a bit like the Babel story all over again. Here are people with great ideas, but they’re not asking themselves what God wants. I’m afraid we can still be like the Corinthians in our church life today. We make wonderful plans without always asking what it may be that God wants of us. We think we know best which gifts we should cherish and develop – when sometimes we should listen to what others in the church may tell us. Perhaps we have other gifts that we haven’t realised ourselves. Perhaps our pastor or our elder or a valued friend could help us to see which of our gifts would be most useful to God, here in this place, here today.

I’m not sure if anyone at Corinth was humble enough to ask Paul, but he tells them anyway. Better than tongues, he says, is to prophesy. Don’t use a language that no one else can understand, but speak in a common language –  and use that language to tell one another and the world outside what God has done. Use that language in the best way you can – and use it as a gift of the Spirit: a gift which like every one of the Spirit’s gifts can be used to build up the Church.

This is the challenge presented to you today, as we launch this English language service. God has blessed you with the gift of languages – and now there is opportunity to use and develop that gift so that more and more people may learn about God’s love, and his good purposes for us all. Every Sunday there are people in this city who are not as gifted as you. Like me they will need to hear the good news in English if they are fully to understand it – if it is really to touch their hearts and convert their lives. So seek these people out: invite them to Khovo, every Sunday afternoon, 16.00 hours sharp! And let Paul’s plea to the Church in Corinth be heard by Presbyterians here in Maupto: Aspire to excel in the Spirit’s gifts that build up the Church.

God bless you in this work: keep building!

A Mustard Seed

(originally posted on the Synod Blog, 10-August-2011)

Roderick Strange writing in The Times Credo column last week mentioned a priest, Jim Sullivan by name, who lived to be a great age. He died well into his nineties and had been a minister for about 70 years. At his diamond jubilee, he remarked, “I spent the first 30 years of my ministry trying to bring people into the kingdom. I’ve spent the last 30 trying to bring the kingdom into people.”

It’s a phrase worth considering. What does it mean for the kingdom to come into people? What kind of kingdom people would they become? There are various answers available: they would be poor in spirit, for example, or ready to suffer for a just cause.

The kingdom is what Jesus came to proclaim. “The kingdom,” he declared, “is at hand.” And he sent his followers out to proclaim the kingdom, while he also noted that its mysteries are hidden from the wise, but revealed to children.

What kind of kingdom will this be? It will be a kingdom, writes the Roman Catholic theologian Hans Kung, where, in accordance with Jesus’ prayer, God’s name will be truly hallowed, his will is done on earth, men and women will have everything in abundance, all sins will be forgiven and all evil overcome. It will be a kingdom where, in accordance with Jesus’ promise, the poor, the hungry, those who weep and those who are downtrodden will finally come into their own; where pain, suffering and death will have an end. It will be a kingdom that cannot be described but only made known in metaphors: as the new covenant, the seed springing up, the ripe harvest, the great banquet, the royal feast.

St. Matthew’s gospel has recently been telling us something of these kingdom metaphors, parables of the kingdom. Those of you who come regularly to church will have heard some of them over the last couple of weeks. Well here is my favourite metaphor – the parable of the mustard seed.

Jesus compares the kingdom of God to a mustard seed, the kingdom grows from small beginnings. It’s such a small thing in itself - but like the small swine flu virus, it is likely to have global consequences when taken seriously. Some commentators on this passage have got slightly overheated about the fact that the mustard seed isn’t, in fact, the smallest of seeds, as Jesus says it is. For others, in staunch defence of Jesus, it is clear that at the time this was the smallest seed they knew of.

Well, the truth is - Jesus was just using a common expression from his culture: the mustard seed was simply a normal way of referring to a very small amount of something, something that was very little. The metaphor of the kingdom was not meant as a bit of pre-scientific botany. It was also well-known that the mustard seed grows into a very substantial bush, virtually a small tree. And yet, when we can know all there is to know about the genetic structure of that mustard seed and the processes by which it is transformed into a bush of such substance, there is still something miraculous about that transformation. Anyone who has grown anything from seed will know what I mean. So this parable, this metaphor of the kingdom of heaven is not meant to be botany lesson, nor even a demonstration of the divinity of Jesus; it’s just a good form of communication. Jesus listeners knew immediately what he was talking about.

There is one more technical matter to look at before we come to the meat of the parable, and that is the reference to the birds of the air. Jesus, and the people to whom he was talking, were not astonished that birds might make their nests in the shade of a fully grown mustard bush. Birds, as we know, will make their nests wherever they want, wherever they can find food, and wherever they feel safe, whether that is in a bush or a tree or the many nooks and crannies of a church building, or on Spring Watch locations. But if we read this figure of speech in another way it is a standard Jewish Rabbinical way of referring to somebody else – and here’s the surprise in this Jewish of all gospels – Matthew is referring to the Gentiles – the Gentile people, people who stand outside the Jewish covenant of God with his chosen people (you may remember the Epiphany wise men were Gentile outsiders, Gentiles from the East, astronomers who lived and worked outside the Jewish nation - so too were the Samaritans, they had no dealings with the Jews at all). So what Matthew is referring to is that as the mustard tree grows, so too will the kingdom of God’s covenant people grow, so the tree will provide shelter for all the peoples and nations of the earth, just as birds will find shelter in the branches of the mustard tree.

Back again to Jim Sullivan’s quote about bringing the kingdom into people. What he is saying is that we are the mustard seed; we are the kingdom, we are kingdom people. As we nurture the kingdom within us by prayer and bible study we begin to grow from small beginnings to a flourishing bush. The kingdom, like the mustard seed, begins to transform us as we work in the world, in the classroom, the shop floor, the committee room, the executive suite, as we seek justice and peace, as we bring help to the poor, the marginalised and the sick, as we begin to transform ourselves and the world into his kingdom. It is we that have to grow from small beginnings, it is we that have to be changed, it is we that have to be transformed, the kingdom in us. We, individually, as small mustard seeds can be more effective in the world than any church committee will ever be, and boy do you we love our committees, as all churches do - gosh how did we become so top heavy? You know one of the saddest reasons for people losing contact with God is that they’ve been involved with the church but have become disillusioned, they have been hurt and damaged – and don’t lets kid ourselves churches can be painful places - what was bright and shiny in now tarnished and dull. What gave life and purpose has been reduced to disappointment and play acting, faith has become a habit without reality.

God so loved the world not the church that he gave his only begotten son. God’s work, his mission is primarily focused on the world, his kingdom and then on the response of those who encounter that work, that kingdom work. By implication, of course “the church” in its broadest sense is completely involved. But the institutions, the organizations, the rules and regulations of “church” – while they are inevitable because human beings always organize themselves – are put in their place as secondary, in the end, to the real work of God which is his work in his world. We constantly have to remind ourselves – as Isaiah repeatedly reminds us - where is God’s glory to be found? not in church buildings or its organisations - but in the world. We are here to change the world, not the church.

It took Jesus a little while and some interesting experiences to come to a realisation that his ministry was for all people and not just for Israel, for those of the household of faith. I think Matthew’s parables and particularly the one about the mustard seed begin to tell us that as Jesus develops his ministry he points more and more to God’s kingdom being for everyone. God’s kingdom was not to be a place from which a small band of chosen people could rule the world, but a broad place of many mansions, where all people can find a home and a welcome, where the birds of the air can nest and make a home.

Taking the seed and tree analogy further St Paul in his letter to the Romans, and that difficult of all chapters – chapter 11 - moves this tree image in a different direction when he writes about the wild Gentiles being ‘grafted’ on to the tree of God’s family, as it were – could it be grafted on in place of an original branch which no longer bears fruit?

Are we too idealistic to suppose that for Jesus, a redeemed and faithful Israel working for the transformation of the world into God’s kingdom is the place where the whole world can be and feel at home? The birds of the air don’t become the bush when they build their nest in it, but they do become a part of its life, and here in the shade of the tree there is not only room for, but a celebration of a diversity of bird types - robins, blackbirds, eagles, doves, - the diversity of male, female, back, white, young, old, straight and gay, the diversity of Muslim, Sikh, Hindu, Jew faiths perhaps? All finding a home in the tree like the birds of the air.

For those who have worked like me outside the church, working for the transformation of the world into God’s kingdom, often with people of different faiths or similar planning and community ideals I am increasingly aware of God being at work in people outside the church, building his kingdom. Jesus would appear to expect and particularly to value such people as these. More than once Jesus comments on how the faith he finds in Gentiles and Samaritans puts the faith he finds in Israel to shame.

In my rereading of this parable Jesus appears to be saying there is a broad welcome to those who will live by the values of the kingdom. There are sheep of his who are not of his fold; there are many mansions in the heavenly home to which he goes; there is room in his view for all people who are building God’s kingdom to find space and a home in the mustard tree, like the birds of the air to nest in its branches.

Jim Sullivan was wise to help people become kingdom. We would be wise to become kingdom ourselves.

Amen

Matthew 13 v31-35: Romans 11 v13-21

Ray Anglesea is a self supporting minister working in St Andrew’s Dawson Street LEP, Crook and in the wider West Durham Methodist Circuit

A Wedding Sermon

(originally posted on the Synod Blog 28^th July 2011)

A sermon preached at the wedding of Mr James Anglesea and Miss Gemma Pope, St Andrew’s Church, Much Hadham, Hertfordshire, Saturday 23 July 2011

Prayer: Come Holy Spirit of God, pour into our hearts that most excellent gift of love, love in our thinking, love in our speaking, that thinking and speaking in love we may grow more like Jesus. Amen.

During the wedding rehearsal, the groom approached the Bishop with an unusual offer: "Look, I'll give you £1000 if you'll change the wedding vows. When you get to the part where I'm supposed to promise to 'love, honour and obey' and 'be faithful to her forever,' I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave that out." He passed the minister a £1000 cheque and walked away satisfied. On the day of the wedding, when it came time for the groom's vows, the Bishop looked the young man in the eye and said: "Will you promise to prostrate yourself before her, obey her every command and wish, serve her breakfast in bed every morning of your life, and swear eternally before God and your lovely wife that you will not ever even look at another woman, as long as you both shall live?" The groom gulped and looked around, and said in a tiny voice, "Yes," then leaned toward the Bishop and hissed: "I thought we had a deal." The Bishop put a £1000 cheque into the groom's hand and whispered: "She made me a better offer!”

Deal or no deal, offer or no offer - what Jamie and Gemma are offering to us on their wedding day is a picture, a model of truest love. Love for each. Love for God. Something more tangible than perhaps an offertory of love songs from Lady Gaga or the Black Eyed Peas new single; something more authentic and lasting than the offer of a glistening goal of a lottery number, a full page spread in Hello magazine, the fame of an x factor final. Something perhaps even more exciting than an offer of a stadium tour of Birmingham City’s football ground, something more thrilling than Wes Brown’s signing at The Stadium of Light, something more fragrant than Macey’s New York perfumery store. What they are offering us who have lived through 10 years of a Harry Potter culture that has somehow lost touch with God, is a God’s who is real, a God who loves us. God is not a repressive deity brandishing a red card. He is a God who is committed to the flourishing, well being and happiness of his people. Where do we find love? In the tiniest hazelnut, says Mother Julian: it exists because God loves it. In the entire sweep of the universe, says Dante, because it is ‘love that moves the sun and the other stars’. But today love has a human face in Jamie and Gemma. And to their young memories we bring our own to offer today: memories of those who have loved us into life, whose lives are interwoven with ours and made us what we are. 

For what Jamie and Gemma are offering us today is a picture, a glimpse of who God is and what he is like. The trick of course is to see and hear him. All we need to do is open our eyes to see his joy, to drink in his beauty, to smell the fragrance of love, listen to the profound silence of two people in love with all its exhilaration, magic and madness that that implies. Garth Brooks the American country music artist sums it up as Jamie sings in his heart to Gemma – “It was your song that made me sing It was your voice that gave me wings, it was your light that shines guiding my heart to find, the place where you belong” - and Gemma echoes a song from TakeThat – “Heh! Let me know you, you’re all that matters to me.” To which Jamie responds obediently and lovingly – “Heh! Let me love you, you can have it all, you can have it all.” The love of a new husband and wife is as close as we will get to understanding the love of God for one another and for humanity. For there is something sacred about the joy we feel at a wedding, as we sense the power of love to bathe human beings in its radiance and make gentle the life of this world.

Jamie and Gemma have said a very positive yes to each other, a very positive yes to life in all it diversity of colour and vibrancy; they have chosen love as a way of life. They give us hope. Jamie and Gemma - your families and friends are overjoyed to be here, to share in this, one of the happiest days of your lives. Dearest Gemma you look so beautiful - we warmly welcome you our new daughter-in-law to our family together with Rodney, Sue, Alex, Declan and Freddie.

But if Jamie and Gemma are offering us a picture of what human love is like, here comes the better offer, the better deal, the golden ball, the good news. God today has committed himself to Jamie and Gemma – for ever and for all time “and lo I am with you always to the end of time,” as St Matthew puts it at the end of his very Jewish gospel. That’s God’s part of the bargain, that’s what’s God’s is offering today as part of the deal, the cash prize. Jamie and Gemma in the months and years ahead you will be able to draw upon more than just your own strength, your own capacity to love - today you have opened yourselves up to a relationship of God's love, in the hope that when you face difficulties you will be able to offer one another more than simply your own individual words and feelings. When a couple get married in the sight of God, they become – in the church's language – ministers of the gospel to each other.

God’s agreement today is a pact, a deal, an offering worth more than a measly £1000, it is the good news that God considers every moment of Jamie and Gemma’s life worthwhile; that God is committed to their human joy and fulfilment and that he will not desert them even when they run away from him. When one person promises another to be faithful for the rest of their life, it is a sort of echo of God’s divine promise, his part of the bargain; and when Jamie and Gemma’s promises are explicitly anchored in an appeal to God's promise, God's faithfulness in offering new beginnings, it has a special force. It is not only that the promise becomes more powerful for Jamie and Gemma, the two persons most directly involved; it becomes a more eloquent sign to the rest of us. Here is a relationship which proclaims something profound and exhilarating about our humanity: a human being is worth spending a lifetime on, a lifetime of loving attention; and also a human being is capable of giving a lifetime's attention.

So before we complain too loudly about a world of disposable relationships, phone deals and short-term policies, a world of fracturing and insecure international bonds and the decline of trust, we should remember today that we have cause for thanksgiving – thanksgiving that God has made human beings capable, against all the odds, of reflecting his own completely costly and self-giving commitment to his world; that the gift of marriage makes this capacity visible in our world; and that, in the lives of Jamie and Gemma the couple with whom today we join in celebration, we see that bracing, renewing and hopeful vision of faithful generosity.

I pray that all of us present and sharing in your joy today, will do everything in our power to support and uphold you in your new life. And I pray that God will bless you in the way of life that you have chosen. Amen

Ray Anglesea is a self supporting minister working in St Andrew’s Dawson Street LEP, Crook and in the wider West Durham Methodist Circuit