Sermon: Life and Excess in an Age of Corona?

Sermon. St Michael and All Angels with St Mary, Little Ilford. 03.05.20. 

Easter 3 (Year A) 

[As often, I used a script as a base for saying what I said, rather than reading it out, word for word. So this is a compound sermon, combining prepared text with words spoken, as I remember them, or choose to recall them!]  

John 10.1-10.  

Jesus, the Good Shepherd, says:  

I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly. 

We know these words.  

We may well quote these words.  

The message is attractive to us, and one we want to share.  

It is undoubtedly the case that people quite often pick up the impression  

that Christianity is about hating life,  

and denying ourselves good things.  

The Church says No, says it’s a sin.  

While sometimes we can see how people get that sense, 

we know that this is a distortion of the Christian way.  

And so, when people suggest that Christianity is life-denying,  

we may well counter:  

Jesus, the Good Shepherd, said: 

 “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” 

It happened that for a brief time I worked for a school  

whose motto was this the last bit of the verse, John 10.10,  

“that they may have life and have it abundantly”.  

It was a Church of England secondary school,  

and you can see, I think, why they chose this quotation.  

They understood that the role of a school,  

more than passing on bits of information,  

is to nurture the young people in their care towards adulthood.  

And they were committing themselves to nurturing,  

so that the children think of themselves  

as valued by God and Jesus - and the staff -  

as worthy of life,  

and properly expectant of good things in life, of rich experiences.  

Jesus, the Good Shepherd, said:  

“I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” 

Or a different point.  

At other times, we may have an internal dialogue.  

Shall I treat myself to these new shoes  

(or, these days, these new jogging bottoms, generous in the waist)?  

Shall I have pudding?  

Shall I upgrade?  

Here again, we may find ourselves saying:  

Yes, of course I should.  

After all, Jesus, the Good Shepherd, said:  

"I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly".  

[Quizzical look...?] 

Well, I’ll be honest with you.  

The Greek text may seem to give a nudge in that direction.  

In the Greek, Jesus says:  

I came that they may have life,  

and that they may have may have something over-and-above, an excess.  

I’ll go into a bit more detail for the keenies.  

The Greek simply has an adjective there, perisson,  

meaning “more than enough”, “excessive”, “abundant”.  

So we English-speakers have to decide  

whether to turn it into a noun, abundance,  

or an adverb, abundantly.  

Both are permitted, and are equally plausible.  

Either way, it seems to be about excess.  

It does seem to be saying that Jesus really wants us to treat ourselves! 

Except of course  

you don’t have to "pan out" from these words very far  

to be nudged in a different direction.  

The whole verse may read:  

“The thief came only to steal [sheep] and kill and destroy [them];  

I for my part came that they may have life, and a lot of it.”  

This seems to be contrasting the thief, who kills the sheep,  

and the good shepherd, who rears and protects the sheep.  

So... that they have life, and an abundance of it, of life;
so that there are a lot of them.  

That may just perhaps be the “excess” that’s intended here.  

Jesus is talking about large families with people living to a ripe-old age,  

more than he is talking about treats and luxuries.  

I for one would find it interesting  

to reflect some more about what Jesus in John might have meant,  

looking at further contexts.  

But what is striking – what is utterly shocking,  
shocking in the fullest possible sense of the word -

is that for the first time in my life,  

when I address a British congregation,  

I can say that it is quite likely  

your focus too is on the second.  

Your thoughts on the hope for abundant life are  

on the hope that life will go on,  

that we’ll live to a good old age,  

with loved ones of younger generations around us.

  

And this is new.  

Not for most of the world of course.  

For most of the world, for most of history,  

“abundant life” would mean life that we can be confident will go on.  

That there is more than enough - survival.  

But, for us, this is new.   

As I was preparing this reflection, word came from Archdeacon Elwin  

of an unmissable statistic.  

In a tweet, he said:  

Shocked to discover that a tiny part of Little Ilford, in Newham, has seen 22 deaths from COVID-19. It’s the worst-hit part of the worst-hit borough in the UK. We need to find out why, and support that community. 

And that tiny part of Little Ilford is of course from there to there [gestures].  

This is where we are.  

Both our churches are in this area.  

In more than one way, this is where we are.  

What then is to be done? 

In the first place, thank God that our prayers can keep us calm.  

And clear-eyed.  

We know that lockdown and social distancing are painful.  

They are a painful mix of  

isolation and loneliness and 
boredom and frustration 
and fear and terror.  

And, when we do see someone, we find we have to think: 

what kind of a threat are they? 

Truly, can truly be called at least a mild form of trauma.  

It is natural to want to be rid of them as soon as possible.  

I want to introduce us to the Christian virtue of prudence.  

We don’t think of prudence, often.  

But it’s a virtue that goes right back to the beginning,  

and I’d say it’s hugely important in the Anglican Church, the C of E 

(though that’s not an argument for here).  

“Prudence” is a rather abstract way of saying:  

Think it through, 
take time, 
deliberate, 
try to see the whole picture, 
be careful.  

And we need this prudence.  

Lockdown and social distancing are hard.  

Precisely when they should be lifted is complicated. 

You can think of it as a technical (scientific) matter, or a political one.  

The point is: that is not the subject for a sermon.  

But! But what is not and cannot be prudent,  

for us, here and now, being where we are, 

what cannot be prudent is the idea  

that we must lift lockdown and social distancing, 

just because “I’ve had enough now”.  

Brothers and sisters, think it through: 

The Good Shepherd does not say: 

“Do whatever feels the easiest thing to do, 

and I will magically rescue you from all harm.”  

No.  

In the second place,  

we remember that this is Eastertide.  

We remember that every day, every moment is Eastertide  

(St Seraphim is right).  

For Christ is risen.  

Death is swallowed up by Life.  

Death is real, remains real,  

but it is not the most real thing.  

Risk and suffering and death are what they always were, 

except they now do not and cannot have the last word.  

Christ is risen,  

and so when we think of Christ as the Good Shepherd –  

as he today invites us to –  

then we think of one who truly is with us.  

It is not just a comforting idea; 

it is the most real thing.  

The image of the Good Shepherd is known to you.  

Fr Lee has posted one version of it on social media.  

I don’t reproduce it,  

not to intend any offence to Fr Lee,  

but just because you don’t need it.  

You can close your eyes.  

Feel free to close your eyes. 

You can see his eyes.  

The eyes of a Good Shepherd, gazing upon you,  

in all love and friendship and compassion and wisdom.  

And on his shoulders is the young lamb.  

Held firmly.  

Not tightly, but firmly, the lamb is held.
Not contorted, but comfortable, for the shoulders are broad.   

And you know – I don’t need to say it -  

that you are both the one being gazed upon, and also the lamb,  

held calmly but securely, and safe.  

The Good Shepherd has you secure upon his divinely broad shoulders,  

has us on his shoulders, 

has Little Ilford on his shoulders, 

has Newham on his shoulders,  

has the whole troubled and unwell world on his shoulders. 

And so, whatever risks we face, whatever we suffer,  

we cannot be abandoned,  

cannot be lost. 

Christ is risen! 
Amen.