Caring for Creation with Apatheia

 

Sermon. 31/08/2025. St John the Evangelist’s, Ovington

Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation [transferred from 1 September]

Wisdom 13.1-9

Colossians 1.15-20

Matthew 6.24-34

 

Happy New Year!

 

Those of you who read the Saham Saga or the Ovington Oracle will know what I am talking about, or at least you stand a chance, once I tell you that today we are pretending it is already 1 September (because this is the nearest Sunday to 1 September).

 

1 September is New Year’s Day to some. It is for the Methodist Church, and also for Orthodox Churches. That’s said, it’s not been a major festival in Orthodoxy. It is pretty much just an administrative matter. But!

I bring you a new thing under the sun!

A revolution in its way!

The context is this: apart from the addition of new saints, the Orthodox calendar changes at glacial speed, if at all.

But! But in 1989 the Ecumenical Patriarch in Constantinople, who holds a leadership role in Orthodoxy, did a new thing, a radical thing.

He did something like introduce a wholly new feast.

He declared and decreed that 1 September was to be… the Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation (the language sometimes varies).  

 

In the West, things have been a little different. Western Christians have long had a fondness for St Francis, who was committed to the simple life, and a life close to nature. You might think that St Francis was a saintly Doctor Doolittle, who talked to the animals. If he did, that’s actually a small part of his life and witness. But his lifestyle, including (let us not forget) his embrace of “Sweet Sister Poverty”, made him a natural saint for us, if we want to care for creation.

 

We can say that both these streams (East and West) came together. And, to skip over a few decades, where we are now is that we can have – if we want to; it is not compulsory – we can have a certain “Creation-tide”. And Creation-tide lasts - you will have guessed - from 1 September to 4 October. It’s been part of Churches Together since 2008. It’s not really a full “season”; it doesn’t have its own set of readings and so on. But it is a chance to focus on creation and nature in a special way.

 

You might well say: we already have that; it’s called our Harvest Festival! But at Harvest Festival the prime emphasis tends of be on thanksgiving, for “all good gifts around us are sent from heaven above”, and the other themes constellate around that. And that is good. Yes, that is good.

 

But… this is different. On the Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation the main notes of our prayers are for the needs and flourishing of the natural order.

We make our petitions to God,

and we plead with God,

plead especially for right discernment about the changes we must make,

to live simply, that others may simply live.

 

Our readings are along these lines. To take them in turn.

 

The first, from the Book of Wisdom weaves an argument that the majesty of God is to be found in creation, in the beauty of creation. That beauty – in myriad abundant forms – can lead us to God, so that we honour God in right use of the things of creation, or it can distract us. We can be distracted, and think of any created thing as a god in its own right. But… that may be only one way of getting it wrong. It may be that it is just as bad to think of them as worthless, just lifeless lumps of stuff, that we can exploit and use up as much as we want.

 

The second reading, from Colossians, enters more deeply into this mystery. It tells us unapologetically that the mystery of God within and under creation (of which Wisdom speaks) is Christ. It really is Christ himself. We may be used to thinking like that, or we may not. I know such words can flow over us. But we had better note what it means. It means we cannot claim to be a servant of Christ, or a follower of Christ, or a friend of Christ, if we do not care for nature itself. Christians are obliged to care for creation, and to nurture the beauty within it. To nurture, and not to exploit or use it up.

 

The Gospel reading emphasises a lot of this. It draws us back to the beauty. The birds of the air and the lilies of the field, no less! But we mustn’t get lost in any naïve sense that the point here is that God wants us to find nature pretty. It is not that we are supposed to imagine ourselves in some Constable painting. No. We mustn’t overlook the simpler point: “You cannot serve [both] God and wealth.”

 

So the themes of prayer for the care of creation are demanding ones.

They call for real change from us.

I very much doubt that this is a new idea to you. Indeed, I know that it is not. But the fact that we’ve heard it before doesn’t mean we can avoid the question, the question:

 

How am I going to live, in ways that exploit nature less?

How I can I exploit less, for the sake of my sisters and brothers throughout the world, in this and in future generations, and for creation’s sake itself?

Really: How?

 

For all the Feast is new, the ideas, the demands, the questions, are as old as Christian faith itself. We know that Genesis begins with God calling creation very good, and with human beings put in charge of caring for the natural world (it is more that than “subdue” nature, but that is for another time). We know that God calls us to love our neighbour, to love the stranger, to love the widow and orphan - standing for all in desperate need, and that Christ adds that we are to love our enemies too. Truly, this means: global love.

 

And I might stop there. For a church-sermon to church-people, I believe I have set out the case for a day of prayer for the care of creation more-or-less to the best of my ability. But I am going to continue! Even worse, I am going to suggest that I need to say more, on moral grounds. That has to be wrong. It is never moral for a preacher to bore their congregation! I agree. But my issue is that, given where we are, I fear that to stop here would be saying something that is true in itself, but ends up being false.

 

Because we have to say a word about how the word is struggling to hear any case for the care of creation. There are other voices, other noises, other shouts and clamours. They are loud, and they are and growing louder. They are angry and they are growing angrier. They would have us limit our care to those perceived to be in the in-group. The feeling seems to be that our care and attention can only go so far. If others are cared for, it must be at our expense.

 

We may perhaps be thinking of foreign presidents. But that won’t do either. It is not a secret that some of these voices are those of our neighbours, are those of people we rub up against, are those we care about it and should care about. So we do need to listen to the fears behind the shouts and the clamours, and, yes, behind all the flags and all the rest of it.

 

How then to proceed? There is one more thing I want to bring to the table. I want to commend to us all the monastic virtue of apatheia. I’ll say it again: apatheia. Yes, it does sound like “apathy” (and is the origin of the word). But you will already have guessed that its meaning is different. It means to think and reason and discern and reflect without passion, without passion not in the sense of not caring about things, but in the sense of not being ruled by the emotions that bubble up or explode in all of us.

 

It means noticing when we are angry, and then not acting on the anger, but letting it pass, drawing from it the part of it that is true and carries truth, freed from the passion of it.

 

It means noticing when we are resentful, and then not acting on the resentment, but letting it pass, drawing from it the part of it that is true and carries truth, freed from the passion of it.

 

It means noticing our fears, but not acting on them. And it’s the same with all the rest of the passions. All of those passions which, frankly, seem to dominate our public discussions at the moment, locally, nationally, and internationally.

 

In other words, when it comes to the anger and the fear, God forbid we fight fire with fire.

 

I did say that was my last point.

So, now my prayer is that

we will never be apathetic about our prayer for the care of creation,

but, when we reflect on how to live well and live well with others,

we will do so with all godly apatheia.

Amen.

"Creation Sunday" - Back to Basics

 

Sermon. St Nicholas’,  Ashill, 23 February 2025.

Second Sunday Before Lent (Year of Luke).

 

Genesis 2.4b-9; 15-end

Revelation 4

Luke 8.22-25

 

Someone once said:

the secret to doing well in a leadership role is this:

it’s about lowering people’s expectations at an acceptable rate.

[Gentle laughter.]

I didn’t know how you’d react to that.

Some people laugh, thinking it’s a joke.

Some people grimace, thinking it’s horrible cynicism.

You….!

Well, in truth, the person who said it meant it both kindly and seriously.

I think it can be taken seriously.

Let us name it.

I, as your new priest-in-charge, will not meet everyone’s expectations.

This is because some expectations will be just plain unrealistic

(won’t be serious about where the church in the world is today);

some will be in principle realistic, but will clash with my own frailties

(which I cannot just wish away);

And, most obviously, the expectations of some will conflict with the expectations of others.  

In one respect, I am bound to fail.

The parishes –

that’s both you, but really more the non-church-folk we are here to serve –

the parishes will want a “parson”, someone who shows up to village stuff.

But! But there are four parishes, and I am half-time.

It is built-in that I will disappoint.

(“Baked-in”, I suppose we now say.)

And, when it comes to other ways I will disappoint…

No! Don’t worry.

I am not proposing to give a longer list of my inadequacies.

I have named the point.

Expectations are high, not because I inspire admiration (I don’t),   

but because there is bound to be relief and excitement,

that there is a priest here again.

And, for all that relief and excitement,

there will be times when we will just have to bumble along together.

 

I am choosing to – I am daring – to say this out-loud, now,

not to focus on the negative,  

but because the theme of our readings (and set prayers)

today can help us focus,

focus on where we truly can place all of our hope, and all of our trust.

 

So, let us take a step back, where are we, today?

Well, today is one of quite a few Sundays actually

which might be called Creation Sunday.

I’ll take another step back.

Did you know that our cycle of readings

– our three-year cycle of readings –

is an “ecumenical matter” (as somebody once said).

It’s a cycle we share with Roman Catholics, and quite a few others.

But not this Sunday. 

This Sunday we divert from the path, and do our own thing.

It is not because we want to be cussed.

It is because we think it is good and wise to have this pattern:

year in, year out, we have:

a kind of Creation Sunday,

then a kind of Transfiguration Sunday

(remembering Jesus when his face was lit up and glorified),

and then… then we are into Lent.

Creation. Transfiguration. Lent.

Year in, year out.

 

So, you see, today is an excellent day to say:

don’t put your trust or hope in me;

put your trust and hope in the Gd, Gd, Creator.  

 

In our first reading, from Genesis, we are:

“In the day that Lord God made the earth and the heavens.”

We are right back at the foundation of creation.

We are led to imagine a creation

still new, pristine, perfectly beautiful, and naturally full of life and love.

This isn’t a tale about life long ago (however many millennia ago).

This is a statement about what God wills for this creation. Now.

This is a statement

about how we creatures can trust in Gd. Now.

 

If we doubt that, let us look to the second reading, from Revelation,

where we are given the picture of creation put right.

“[T]here in heaven a door stood open!”

and creatures manage to fulfil their destiny:

they worship the Creator:

“You are worthy, our Lord and God,

to receive glory and honour and power,

for you created all things,

and by your will they existed and were created.”

You see:

it is by Gd’s will that we exist and are created.  

This isn’t a tale about what might perhaps happen one day.

This is a statement

about how we creatures can trust and worship Gd.

Gd will draw us to worship. Now.

 

And so to our Gospel.

A short story of a storm, a gale, of raging waves,

a gale which Jesus calms.

Which leads the disciples to ask:

“Who is this, that he commands even the winds and the water,

and they obey him?”

 

Just hear these words again:

Jesus “rebuked the wind and the raging waves;

they ceased and there was a calm.”

They ceased and there was a calm.

We who know the whole story here see Jesus,

not in the power of the storm, but in the gentleness of the calm,

as the Lord of Creation.

This isn’t a tale about someone performing

some magic trick or some piece of theatre, back then.

This is statement about

how we can trust in God Creator and the Lord of Creation. Now.

 

So, if we will it, we are

“[i]n the day that Lord God made the earth and the heavens”.

If we will it, we can say, just like the highest of the archangels:

God, Creator,  “[y]ou are worthy… to receive glory and honour and power”.

If we will it,

we can at least begin to enter into

the calm that the Lord Jesus brings.

 

This Creation Sunday is a good day – perhaps the best day –

for us to focus - to refocus on how we can have “great expectations”.

My hope and my prayer, today,

is that we will increase our expectations at an acceptable rate.

But I mean our expectations from Gd Creator.  

Not, of course that Gd will magic all our problems away.

We can be blunt: that is not Gd’s way.

But this expectation can grow and grow:

that Gd will meet us where we need – really need – to meet Gd.

God will meet us where we need – really need – to meet Gd. Now.

It’s my own privilege and joy to be called to be part of that with you.

I look forward to us all helping each other.

Amen.  

 

Sermon for Bible Sunday

Sermon. St Michael and All Angels, Little Ilford. 27 October 2019 (Year C)

·       Bible Sunday

Today is unusual; it may be unique. The sheets we have delivered have determined that today is “Bible Sunday”. We don’t normally keep “Bible Sunday”. We haven’t in my time, and I doubt you did before that. I think it is obvious why: if today is “Bible Sunday” what does that say of the other 51 Sundays of the year? Are they “Less-Bible Sunday”? Yet again, if every Sunday is “Bible Sunday”, why call one Sunday “Bible Sunday”?

But… I am happy to “roll with it”, as an “one off”. So we will call today unique, and we will call it (in case you haven’t picked it up yet…) “Bible Sunday”!

What I propose to do with this unique occasion is offer some teaching on the Bible, and you’ll guess that for me that means on the Bible in its original languages. This in turn means I am not going to offer an “exhortatory” sermon. (I know that’s what you were asking yourselves as you came to church today: “I wonder how exhortatory the sermon will be today”!) “Exhortatory” is just a specialist (or posh) way of saying a sermon which says how we should all be living. So you see: I am going to be even less bossy than normal. (And that’s not entirely a joke. It is also a warning: if you think I am normally bossy, you have been spoiled!) I am going to share some bits of knowledge, just to see if we can together agree that the Bible is fascinating.

And so to the Hebrew Bible, which Christians have tended and do tend to call the Old Testament (and I don’t say wrongly). This is, after all, the greater part of the Bible in terms of length, about 4/5 of the Christian Bible.  

The first thing you should know about Hebrew is that the core text does not have any vowels. This is true of every Torah scroll used in a synagogue. But it is also true of many/most newspapers in Israel today. You might think that makes things very hard. I suggest it doesn’t. You can test this. You can write some sentences down in English, but without the vowels – only the consonants – and give it to somebody else. My guess is that they will understand most of it.

Hebrew texts as such tend to have no vowels.

The second thing you must know about Hebrew is that the meaning of the words can change dramatically – utterly – depending on what the vowels in a word are.

For example

·       Lamad means “he learned” (maybe all by himself)

·       Limmad means he taught

·       Lummad means “he was taught” (by another).

That’s changing (pretty much) only the vowels.(1)  

So you can see that there is a problem: the core text has no vowels; the vowels often determine the meaning of the words.

And so it happened that, that between the 6^th and the 10^th centuries of our Common Era, some Jewish scribes started adding vowels to the text. They did this by adding dots and dashes above, below, and sometimes within the consonants. (I can show you later.) So a Hebrew text with the vowels added is called a “pointed” text. And by the end of the 10^th century, the words – the words with the vowels – were fixed. They weren’t added to the Torah scrolls themselves. The text on the scrolls was held to be too holy to have any later additions. But they were added to the books the congregation might have, or the books people practising reading or chanting the text might have.(Again, I have an example.)

Now, does this mean that until the vowels (the dots and the dashes) were added, people could just make up how to pronounce the vowels in the words, and so give the text the meaning they wanted? No, not at all. We have to remember that the early centuries after Christ, both Jews and Christians lived in what was basically an oral culture. They would be hearing these texts, year in, year out, week in, week out, or even day in, day out. So the vowels and the meanings would have been fixed (by and large) long before they were actually written down – written down in the form of those dots and dashes.

So, l am going to take a risk here. I am going to tell you something you may find boring, or you may just, like me, find intriguing. If you find it boring, you can tell me bluntly, as I won’t be preaching on “Bible Sunday” again. If you find it boring, but no more boring than any other sermon from me – that you don’t have to tell me.

Here goes. If we consider the Hebrew Bible as fixed by the addition of the vowels, how does the Bible begin? What is at the very opening of the book of Genesis? This is a real question…

Actually, the very opening of the book of Genesis does not say “In the beginning”. It does not work as a translation of the “pointed” Hebrew. The Hebrew says: “In a beginning”. The definite article – the word or the sound for “the” – is missing. But “In a beginning, Gd created heaven and earth” sounds strange in English, and more or less as strange in Hebrew. What might it actually mean? So it leads the grammarians/the translators to think creatively. So some modern translations read “When Gd began to create…” And I have to say: that is a fair translation of the Hebrew, really. “In beginning creating” might be the underlying idea.

This example also provides evidence for the point I was making earlier – that the later scribes did not invent new meanings from the consonantal text (the text that was just consonants) out of thin air. I say this because if we turn to the main Greek translation, the Greek also says: “In a beginning”. In the Greek, too, the word for “the” is missing. And this Greek text (which I also have with me) was written down a couple of centuries or more before Christ. It is unquestionably ancient.

And indeed, so fixed is this idea that the story of creation begins with the strange words “In a beginning”, that when St John wants to write his great meditation, reflecting and maybe going behind the story of creation, which he wants to relate to the Word of Gd who becomes a human being in Jesus Christ, he too writes as he starts his Gospel: “In a beginning was the Word, and the Word was with Gd, and the Word was Gd.”

Have I bored you to tears? I have really just wanted to drop the smallest hint that, if we do dig down into the biblical text in the original languages, things will become not easier, but more difficult and stranger for us, but – at least sometimes - more intriguing, deeper, richer.  

As for New Testament Greek, Greek does have vowels, and always has had vowels. What the oldest Greek texts do not have is.. gaps. Gaps between the words. Each word just runs on from the word before. Oh, and all in capitals, in the oldest texts. That makes like harder in another way. But – worry not – I won’t unfold all of that here. We’ll either have to keep “Bible Sunday” another year, or find another way of having some Greek for fun!  

Let us return to the Hebrew. I offer what I believe is one fair interpretation of Genesis 1, taking seriously the absence of that “the”.

When Gd began to create the heavens and the earth (you see, the earth was waste and void(2) and a darkness was on the surface of the deep, and a divine wind would sweep over the waters…) when Gd began creating, he said: Let there be Light, and there was Light.”

You may say that this sounds pretty similar to the traditional translation. Is anything at stake in preferring this new version? Oh yes. Most certainly. What? I am sorely tempted to tease you now and ask you to settle down while I outline the top twenty points why it matters. But that would indeed be to tease you. Instead, I will dare to hope that we might have seen that the Bible is a little bit more strange than we realised, and so intriguing, drawing us in. A blessed “Bible Sunday” to us all.

Amen.

(1) Readers rather than hearers will see that it also involves a doubling of the middle consonant. However, in Hebrew this too is shown not by a second written consonant, but a dot in the middle of the single consonant, i.e. here too the consonantal text does not as such determine the meaning. 

(2) The Hebrew is tohu va-bhohu, terms it is excruciatingly difficult to translate. Do they refer to some substances which predate creation as we can imagine it? The rabbis were apparently willing to imagine them as different types of slime – as one option among many, not an authoritative reading.   

Prayers for the Care of Creation

[V: For our world, called Very Good, 

R: make us worthy champions.]

Gd, you make the heavens and the earth,

and everything exists only because it dwells in your love.

We pray for this globe,

our home and our most precious treasure.

Sustain and refresh it, and the creatures on it,

who praise you naturally, spontaneously and always.

Gd, you make the heavens and the earth,

and everything exists only because it dwells in your love.

We pray for all human beings,

who must be taught to praise you.

May your Church be a true school,

training disciples in awe, gratitude and humility.

Gd, you make the heavens and the earth,

and everything exists only because it dwells in your love.

We pray for all human beings caught up in destructive ways,

from mindless consumerism and addiction, to terror and war.

Bless all peacemakers,

all who work to sustain hungry and needy people,

and all who defend the integrity of creation.

Gd, you make the heavens and the earth,

and everything exists only because it dwells in your love.

We pray for all who work on land or sea,

and for all who study the environment.

May our discussion about how best to care for nature be truthful,
guided by your Holy Spirit,

who yet broods over the world in love.

Gd, you make the heavens and the earth,

and everything exists only because it dwells in your love.

We pray for our city, our parish and this church community.

Teach us how we can live simply,

that future generations may simply live.

Gd, you make the heavens and the earth,

and everything exists only because it dwells in your love.

We pray for the health and flourishing

of ourselves, our families, friends and neighbours,

and all who have asked for or need our prayers...

Heal the wounds of the earth.

Gd, you make the heavens and the earth,

and everything exists only because it dwells in your love.

Forgive our forgetfulness of this.

Give us courage to speak out, in and for that love. 

Amen. 

[Feast Day: 1 September]