On Shouting More, and Shouting Less

Sermon. Sunday 28 October 2018, The Last Sunday after Trinity (Year B)

St Mary's Great Ilford

Jeremiah 31.7-9

Mark 10.46-end

Someone once said that the one true doctrine of the Church of England is “salvation by good taste alone”. They weren’t being wholly serious, but they were still saying something that is true, is the case. If we are Anglican, it is likely that we value what is beautiful, seemly, done according to good order - and good taste. There is great merit in this (I speak as an Anglican myself). But it doesn’t cover all that we need to cover. It won’t do for all of the Christian life.

Today’s gospel is about a person of faith who showed no good taste. Bartimaeus is blind, and is a beggar - but (to be clear) these are ordinary human misfortunes or differences - what is “in bad taste” is the way that, on hearing that Jesus is passing, he comes straight to his need, his urgency, his desperation.

He shouts. When told to pipe down, he shouts louder. When told Jesus is calling, he throws his coat away as a rag, to run to him. He wants his sight. 

• This is a person with nothing to lose. 
• This is a person with no reputation to worry about. 
• This is one who comes to Jesus without any adornment or "piety" whatsoever. 

He simply screams: HELP ME!

And as Anglicans, we may need to remind ourselves, that Bartimaeus, the blind beggar, gets it right. His urgency to the point of desperation, his unwillingness to disguise his need, is right. And is rewarded. He gets what he says he needs, his sight. And he also “gets” the consequence of that. He becomes a follower of Jesus along the way.

Brothers and sisters, if ever we feel compelled by the difficulties we face in life, simply to turn to Gd in Jesus and scream: HELP ME, frankly, we should do it. It can be the right thing to do.

And this also follows: as a Church community, we need to be a place which offers such reliable hospitality, that we are known to be a place where people can be at home, if they in turn need to scream to the Lord: HELP ME!

Gd forbid, that our churches or our patterns of worship are always so “seemly” that we end up shutting out a godly beggar, like blind Bartimaeus. Of course, this does not mean that we as people can actually meet all the needs of those who turn to us in desperation. We cannot. But! But we can be a place where their pleas, shouts and groans are heard, are taken seriously.

Brothers and sisters, we know each other only after a fashion. But may sense is that you know this, and you do it. I say these words, that we might encourage one another.

*

Of course, none of this means that we should seek to be a community which is known for being “shouty”. We do not need to shout - either in desperation, or, for that matter, in praise - to make a point. Gd forbid!

And I want to add: especially in our days: Gd forbid!

I add this point, because it is troubling (is it not?) just how “shouty” so much of our culture is in our days. I don’t say this in the first place because this church is effectively on the road where I live, and so I know what Saturday nights can be like...

No, rather, I am thinking of our common life as a nation, and indeed of international trends, international “shoutiness”. 

There is a debate happening right now – and don't we know it and doesn't it need to happen? – about whether our politics is too noisy and too full of hostility. That instead of people saying, “I disagree with you and here's why”, they now say, “you are my enemy”, or, even worse “you are the enemy of the people, of the nation”.

We might associate this especially with the current regime in the United States of America. Indeed, it would be beyond astonishing if we did not make that connection. 

I wrote those words before learning of the attack on worshippers in the synagogue in Pittsburgh. It looks like this is a horrible illustration of the point. But, in any event, it pains us, and we pray for that community, and: Peace be upon Israel.

In all of this, we may not think that we are free from some of these dangerous trends, here, in the UK.

Now, please be clear that I am passing no comment at all on the rightness or wrongness of all the policies that get called “Brexit”, or how we should relate to the EU. These are not matters for sermons.

But! But I am saying that there is robust evidence (not just anecdotal) that, alongside all the proper political discussions, there was a peak in hate crimes against people perceived to be foreign, around and after the Brexit referendum.[1] Further, it can be argued that ever since then, racists have felt emboldened. As a nation, we should surely worry that this is a real headline from Friday: “Woman 'punched in face for speaking Spanish' in 'racist attack' on Overground train”.[2]

As a Church, we must shout out against racism and hatred in all its forms. But there is more we must do. 

We must draw upon the reconciling love of Gd. Gd, remember, is able to reconcile us to Gdself, to our neighbour, and even (if we can believe it) to ourselves. And, as churches, we must be communities which model and celebrate reconciliation. Which are on the journey towards reconciliation. Which show some better ways to have the conversations we need to have among ourselves, and show courtesy and careful mutual attention, even in - precisely in - the disagreements we are bound to have.

What I am saying is: let us not neglect our first reading, from the Hebrew Scriptures. The vision of Jeremiah (Jeremiah, who knew a thing or two about being at the receiving end of hostility himself). Jeremiah longs for - he trusts in - a time when Gd will gather all together, “from the farthest parts of the earth, among them the blind and the lame, those with child and those in labour, together; a great company, they shall return. With weeping they shall come, and with consolations I will lead them back, I will let them walk by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble; for I have become [their] Father”.

Notice Jeremiah doesn’t actually say that people who are blind will receive their sight. He just says, in this within this in-gathering, they will play a full and right part within the community. As will - quite simply - everybody. 

• Those with good taste; those with bad taste. 
• Those who shout; those who whisper. 
• Jews; gentiles. 
• You; me. 
• The people we love; and the people we can’t stand. 

Gd will gather us in. For Gd wills it. Amen.

---

[1] http://blogs.lse.ac.uk/brexit/2018/03/19/hate-crime-did-spike-after-the-referendum-even-allowing-for-other-factors/

[2] https://www.standard.co.uk/news/crime/woman-punched-in-face-for-speaking-spanish-in-suspected-racist-attack-on-overground-train-a3972386.html

"Render unto Caesar..." Nothing At All?

Sermon. 22 October 2017. St Michael and All Angels, Little Ilford.

Trinity 19 (Year A)

Matthew 22.15-22

Jesus says; “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” Or as many of us will have learnt it, in and outside of church: “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s” [AV]. I think it is probably still - just - the case, that if you went up to a maybe-more-mature adult in this country, brought up in the medium of English (in whatever country) from childhood, and said: “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s” they would stand a good chance of still understanding the point you were making. 

Jesus said these words in the context of Roman occupation, a military dictatorship. In the earliest generations of the Church, the basic attitude of the Christian communities to that military dictatorship was to have as little to do with it as possible. Such was the risk of persecution or execution. Then, early in the fourth century, things changed. The then dictator, Constantine, was drawn to Christianity, some say cynically, some say sincerely. Whichever, it soon became safe to be a Christian within the dictatorship, and even advantageous, a “career move”. 

How did the Church adapt to this radically new situation. Well, in a variety of ways. But one way was certainly to build on this verse. It is found in Matthew, Mark and Luke’s gospel, in almost identical wording: “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”  Already in the fourth century this was understood to mean: 

some things are the responsibility of the state, and we Christians must “do our duty” so that the state can do what it is called to do; other things are different, are spiritual, and when it comes to these the state must mind its own business. In these ways, both state and church can rub along together in peace, and mutual tolerance. 

If that sounds familiar, well, this is of course an attitude our own Anglican Church has further adapted and made its own. We are the established church in the country. We have bishops in parliament (in the House of Lords); indeed, we have the monarch. But we don’t expect the Church to govern the nation. We resist that. We just want to govern ourselves, through our synod. 

Now, what am I going to say next? I have my script, and so I know. But I confess that if I didn’t have a text, I would not be sure in what direction I was about to move. One thing I might do is question whether it really makes sense to divide up our lives (personal and collective) into the secular/worldly/temporal vs the spiritual. After all, if a person is on the point of dying of hunger, or seriously ill and cut off from all treatment, so that their only prayer is “Help!”, is that a worldly or a spiritual matter? Or if a person is so wealthy that they cannot even see their own privilege, is that a temporal or a spiritual problem? Do we not teach that they are imperilling nothing less than their own soul?

Good questions. But let us leave them and go back to the gospel text. I’ll give a literal translation: “Give back, then, the things of Caesar to Caesar and the things of God to God”. Actually, the word for “things” is not there in the Greek, and the text speaks about “the God” - these idioms work in the Greek in a way they just don't in English. But the real point is… one thing this cannot - simply cannot - mean is this: “the world and its resources can and should be divided up - some bits of it belong to the state and not to God, and some bits belong to God and not the state”. 

It is, I’ll say it again, quite impossible that that is the meaning of this text. It may still be a good argument. But it is not the meaning of this text.

First, we know the context; it has been presented to us in great clarity. The question comes from the Pharisees. Now, I’ve said often enough that the Pharisees are not the simply “baddies” in the gospels we have been led to believe. But the Greek here is unambiguous that on this occasion they’ve had a big meeting, to agree how they might set a trap for Jesus “in word”. The nature of the trap is evident:

• if Jesus says people should pay the poll tax to the brutal invaders, then he is siding with the enemy, a quisling; 
• if he says people should not pay the poll tax, then he is siding with the rebels (we might say “terrorists”), and is a threat to the Romans. 

Either way, he is undermined. 

Jesus, the text continues, is aware of his questioners’ malice. In fact the original is stronger than that: Jesus sees that this particular approach is “evil” (says the Greek). And his first response is: “Why do you test me?” The word is from the same family as that found in the Lord’s prayer - “Lead us not into temptation.” So, “Why do you tempt me?” And Jesus calls them (in this regard) “hypocrites”, for good measure.

So it is strong stuff. It is indeed a trap. The text leaves us in no doubt. So we are already set up to expect that Jesus must be (I don’t think it’s disrespectful to put it this way…) canny. Canny... and so he is! Think about it. On the surface, it looks like he has answered the question. It looks like he has said:

“Look, money has the emperor’s face on it. Just give it back to the emperor when you have to, and then get on with your life.” 

We can imagine that a passing Roman soldier would have heard Jesus as saying something like that. And we can further imagine that it would be hard for these Pharisees to convince the Romans that he had said something more challenging than that. But - make no mistake about it - he was saying something more challenging, radical and oppositional. 

What? Well, here is a question: 

• from Jesus’ point of view, 
• from the Jewish point of view, 
• from the Biblical point of view, 

what is there that does not belong to Gd? 

I ask again: what is there that does not belong to God? 

Show me something that does not belong to God? 

Sisters and brothers, I note that no one is getting out their purse or their wallet. You take the point. As we ourselves may say as a prayer over the gifts on the altar, ourselves quoting the Bible: 

“Yours, Lord, is the greatness, the power, the glory, the splendour, and the majesty; for everything in heaven and on earth is yours. All things come from you, and of your own do we give you.” 

What you may not realise is that this is very close to a biblical - a Hebrew-biblical - text - from 1 Chronicles 29. As such, it would be well-known by the Pharisees, who valued all the Hebrew Scriptures which we call the “Old Testament”. 

So Jesus’ Jewish questioners would have heard something the Romans would not have heard. They would have heard Jesus say this: 

“You are trying to trick me. 

I know this. You know this. 

I am not going to make a provocative statement just to fall into your trap. 

I will say that Roman money is the Romans’ own business, 

as if paying a poll tax to them means nothing at all. 

I will further say that it does mean nothing at all, but for this reason: 

because all even the Romans have is really God’s own property, 

and all even the Romans do is God’s own business. 

You are quite unable to attack me on this, 

because it is what you yourselves believe.” 

We may not be used to thinking of Jesus as “canny”, as saying things in code. But we should be. 


It is actually often what happens when Jesus speaks in parables, in stories. I know we are taught in Sunday school (for fair-enough reasons) that Jesus speaks in stories to make things easier to understand, for the simple folk. But that’s usually wrong. Actually, it is more to make things harder to understand. [Mark 4.12: Jesus speaks “for those outside, everything comes in parables; in order that ‘they may indeed look, but not perceive, and may indeed listen, but not understand; so that they may not turn again and be forgiven’”. Citing Isa 6.9. Cf Matt 13.14f; Jn 12.40.] To put the questions we’d like to put to Jesus back to us. It has been put this way: in Jesus’ words, the world is made strange. Made strange in order that we wrestle with things more, so that we wonder more. Why should the life of faith not be about wrestling for the truth and finding wonder?  And is that not what happens in this reading? Jesus speaks a phrase which is apparently simple, meaningful and, yes, useful. “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s”. But if we pay attention, we come to see that instead it asks us important questions about 

• whether we think Gd’s power and sovereignty are limited; 
• whether there is anything that is not of Gd; 
• whether we too are ready to pray:  

“Yours, Lord, is the greatness, the power, the glory, the splendour, and the majesty; for everything in heaven and on earth is yours. All things come from you, and of your own do we give you.” 

Amen.