Sermon.
22 January 2017. St Michael and All Angels, Little Ilford.
Epiphany
3 (Year A)
Psalm
27.1, 4-9
Matthew
4.12-23
In
the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
[Then immediately:] Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John were the
first disciples called.
Did
you get what I said?
Did
you get what I did?
I
preached 'immediately'. And it was not quite comfortable for us (I
think). Something of a shock. We may be in the habit of saying
'I'll see to that immediately'. But as and when we actually do, it
can be shocking. It's not part of everyday experience.
And
it may be that you already see where I am coming from. Let us look at
the calling of those first disciples I have just, if rather
ineffectively, named.
Jesus
says to Peter and Andrew, '”Follow me, and I will make you fishers
of people”. And immediately they left their nets and
followed him.. he saw... James... and... John... and he called them.
Immediately they left their boat and their father, and
followed him.'
Can
we picture the scene? Can we? What was it about those encounters with
Jesus – who is, at least at this point, not especially well known –
that made these fishermen – successful business men we might also
call them – abandon their comforts and livelihoods, and even their
own father, to go with Jesus on some kind of mission - one that had
no guarantees about it, and for that matter no clear plans for it?
What was it? We don't know. But go they did. And...
immediately.
By
the way, it is true that in Mark's gospel, very many things
happen 'immediately'. It is one of Mark's favourite words. He seems
to want to give the impression that everything about Jesus happened
in top gear, was relentless, was breathless. But this is not Mark;
this is Matthew, and he uses our word, 'immediately' much
less. So he must mean it. There was no delay. There was no
deliberation. They set off with Jesus immediately.
And
think of it this way. If any of our number came into church first
thing... hey, let's make it interesting and say it's Fr Brian...
Brian races in and says: 'Can't stay. Can't take part in the
service. I've met someone new, someone surprising, someone different,
and I'm going off with them. No time to explain. Gotta go. Bye...'.
And – immediately – he goes.
I
think we'd be... perturbed. And not only because that meant you'd be
dependent on me for all priestly ministrations in today's service.
Throwing everything away at a stranger's command is not what we do.
It is not the done thing. It is not the mark of a careful,
or indeed a caring person.
It
may be that we have at heart just two models for thinking about
people stopping what they are doing, and turning to a new life. One
is when they do so out of force. You hear that your village is
about to be attacked, for example, so you drop everything and flee.
(A sadly much too common phenomenon in our troubled world.) The other
is, well, romance. 'This is the one!' the lover says.
'Nothing else counts!' So they too drop everything, and they
too flee – to Gretna Green or Marbella or wheresoever.
But
don't mishear me here. I need to be clear. I am not suggesting that
there was anything sexual, romantic or 'anything-like-that', about
today's encounter between Jesus and Peter, Andrew, James and John.
Not that! I am, though, saying that, if Matthew is right (and we
might wonder), there must have been something equally as intense
about that encounter. As overwhelming.
And
immediately they left everything to follow him.
If
we wanted to think not so much about Jesus and his disciples, but
more broadly about the relationships of human beings to Gd,
and think of those relationships as - not sexual but - as intense
as any romance, one place we might turn to is today's psalm. Here
are some of its themes (though there are more – do take the sheet
away and pray with it through the week):
Gd
is my light, my salvation, my helper.
Gd
keeps me safe, Gd hides me, so that I am without fear.
I
will sing and make music to Gd.
Gd,
do not leave me, do not forsake me.
Already
there is some of the language of love here, or the tone of something
of a love affair. But there is also this:
'One
thing have I asked of the Lord;
one
thing I seek;
that
I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life;
to
behold the fair beauty of the Lord
and
to seek him in his temple...
You
speak in my heart and say: “Seek my face.”
Your
face, Lord, will I seek.'
Does
that not sound like someone besotted? Someone saying:
'Look,
I just want to be with you,
sit
on the sofa with you, look into your eyes.
Nothing
more'..?
I
think it does.
So
the questions we seem led to today are:
Are
we besotted,
do
we know passionate love for Gd?
Do
we long to gaze upon the fair beauty of Gd?
Does
a life given over purely to seeking Gd
sound
frustrating if not pointless...
or
does the seeking itself seem exciting, enticing and what we are
made for?
I
am letting the silence hang.
I
am not going to attempt to answer that question.
Because
I don't think there is one right answer.
There
certainly are Christians who think that Christianity is always,
everywhere, about demonstrating a passionate love-affair with
Gd, and, yes, with Jesus Christ. Many, though by no means all of
them, would think the best way of worshipping is to sing choruses
where you announce, literally hundreds of times 'Jesus, we love
you' and such like.
That's
not us. And I am not suggesting that should be us. Indeed, you could
say that if you need to say 'I love you' literally hundreds of
times to someone, whether human or divine, you are really just
expressing your insecurity. You are trying to convince yourself, at
least as much as the other.
So
actually I am not going to say that we should always be intense and
passionate when we worship. It sets up unrealistic and unattractive
expectations.
Sometimes,
indeed (we know this), worship is just something we get on with,
because we know or feel it is the right thing to do. And that
is perfectly valid. A friend of mine goes so far as to say: 'If
people complain to me that their worship is dry, I say,
“What's the problem? Why do you want to be wet all the
time.”' And we may insist that boring or bored worship is still
worship.
But
I think we should be open to worship which is itself open
to intensity and passion, to something at least a
little like a love affair with Gd. Of course, it will be a love
affair very different from any love affair we may have within our
human relationships. Most obviously, a love affair with Gd does not
stop us loving our human partners passionately. Gd is not –
is never - in competition with the people we are attracted to,
ever.
If
we go to church at all, or a lot, we will hear that Gd is love. I
wonder – it is an open question; I genuinely don't know – how
often we think that this means that Gd is always, gently but
persistently inviting us to love Gd back,
- love, often calmly,
- love, be it formally or ritually (that can count),
- love, sometimes, passionately and intensely?
I
leave you with my own translation of some of today's psalm verses.
Listen out, because they are quite different from the
translation we have been hearing. And listen in, listen to
what your own inner self is saying about your relationship to Gd.
You
may like to close your eyes.
Just
one thing I ask from Gd, this.
I
seek to stay in the House of Gd all my living days,
to
gaze upon the attractiveness of Gd
and
to go on searching out, in Gd's Temple...
To
you my heart speaks,
telling
all-of-me to seek your face.
It
is your face, your presence, O Gd, I am seeking.
Don't
go. Don't leave me, O Gd of my healing.
Just
one thing I ask of Gd, this.
Amen.
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