God gives back what we rejected to become the cornerstone of our lives

Here's the sermon I shared at St Nicholas Laindon this morning:

The Parable of the Wicked Tenants (Matthew 21:33-46) is in essence the story of Jesus’ ministry, arrest and death. He is the son that is killed by the tenants to whom the landowner entrusted his property and he is the cornerstone that, although rejected, becomes the stone which holds all the others up; the keystone, the crucial link, the vital connection.

However, while this is the story of Jesus, it is also the story of the Israel of his day; a chosen people who were not fulfilling their purpose despite multiple messengers, most recently John the Baptist, having come to warn them of their need for change.

When Abraham was called by God he was told that he would become a great and mighty nation and that all the nations of the earth would be blessed in him. The nation founded through his obedience to God’s call was to be a blessing to all nations. The people of Israel were reminded periodically of this call, as in Isaiah 49:6 where we read:

“It is too light a thing that you should be my servant
to raise up the tribes of Jacob
and to restore the survivors of Israel;
I will give you as a light to the nations,
that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.”

The prophecies collected together in Isaiah also show the kind of place that Jerusalem was intended to become; a place to which all nations could come to hear from God:

“Many nations will come streaming to it, and their people will say,
‘Let us go to up the hill of the Lord, to the Temple of Israel’s God.
He will teach us what he wants us to do;
we will walk in the paths he has chosen.
For the Lord’s teaching comes from Jerusalem;
from Zion he speaks to his people.” (Isaiah 2. 2b & 3a)

Instead of that vision coming to pass, by the time of Jesus, the Temple had become a symbol of Jewish identity with all sorts of people excluded from worship unless they conformed to the detailed requirements of the Mosaic Law. The Temple and the worship in it prevented the free access to God that God wished to see for people of all nations.

In Jesus’ ministry, crucifixion and post-resurrection commission to his disciples, we see him tearing down barriers that prevented sight of God and raising up those whose position in society excluded them from worship. In his ministry Jesus expressly went to those who were excluded from Temple worship, including them both by accepting them (and teaching that they will enter the kingdom of God ahead of the religious leaders) and by healing them so they could actively return to the Temple worship. When he died the curtain separating people from the most holy place in the Temple was torn in two, showing that access to God was now open to all. Jesus also prophesied that the Temple itself would be destroyed and that when this happened his disciples should take his message of love to all nations.

As an Iona Community liturgy puts it, Jesus was ‘Lover of the unlovable, toucher of the untouchable, forgiver of the unforgivable, bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh, writing heaven’s pardon over earth’s mistakes. The Word became flesh. He lived among us, He was one of us.’ As Christ’s followers today, we inherit the task of putting into practice what Jesus has achieved through his life, death and resurrection. We are the people today who are called to work towards that Isaianic vision of nations streaming to learn what Israel’s God wants them to do, settling disputes among the great nations, hammering swords into ploughshares and spears into pruning hooks, and never again preparing to go to war.

Sam Wells, Vicar of St Martin-in-the-Fields, notes that: “The stone that the builders rejected didn’t find a place in the wall somewhere by being thoughtfully included like a last-minute addition to a family photo. The rejected stone became the cornerstone, the keystone – the stone that held up all the others, the crucial link, the vital connection. The rejected stone was Jesus, as our Gospel reading makes clear. In his crucifixion he was rejected by the builders – yet in his resurrection he became the cornerstone of forgiveness and eternal life.

That’s what ministry and mission are all about – not condescendingly making welcome alienated strangers, but seeking out the rejected precisely because they are the energy and the life-force that will transform us all. Every minister, every missionary, every evangelist, every disciple should have these words over their desk, their windscreen, on their screensaver, in the photo section of their wallet, wherever they see it all the time – the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.”

He says this is important because, if we’re “looking for where the future church is coming from, we need to look at who or what the church and society has so blithely rejected. The life of the church is about constantly recognising the sin of how much we have rejected, and celebrating the grace that God gives us back what we once rejected to become the cornerstone of our lives. That’s what prophetic ministry means.”

With these words, Sam Wells turns the story on ourselves, just as Jesus did with the chief priests and the Pharisees of his own day, who heard his parables and realized that he was speaking about them. In the eternal relevance of Jesus’ parables, Jesus tells this story to us in order that we realise he is speaking about us. As church and society, there are many people that we reject and exclude, so, as Sam says, we need to look at who or what the church and society has so blithely rejected, to constantly recognise the sin of how much we have rejected, and celebrate the grace that God gives us back what we once rejected to become the cornerstone of our lives.

I saw this happen in practice one year at St Martin-in-the-Fields when Jesus and the disciples in our Palm Sunday Passion Drama were members of the weekly 45-strong asylum-seekers group that meets at St Martin’s every Sunday afternoon, many of them experiencing homelessness and destitution in London – including a Kurdish Iranian, a Ugandan, a Dominican Republican, a Bangladeshi, a Kenyan, a Zimbabwean and a South African. One, a Ghanaian, spent two years travelling to the UK, crossing the Mediterranean from North Africa in a boat and waiting for many weeks in the Calais Jungle. In our Passion Play, at the last supper they gathered around Jesus – played by Sam, a young Afghani refugee - waiting on his every word, knowing from their own lives what it means to hope and pray for salvation.

Sam Wells described what happened to those of us watching this Passion Drama:

“The British public sees asylum-seekers as a threat or at best an administrative burden. The churches tend to see them as objects of pity and mercy. On Palm Sunday they were none of these things. They were prophets, preachers, provocative witnesses to the gospel, challenging us at St Martin’s, used to thinking of ourselves as edgy and politically engaged, with the question of where we each stood in the passion story. This was the first time our International Group has led us into worship. In the past, members of the group have joined our fellowship by acting as wicket-keeper or demon opening bowler in our cricket team, or as waiter for our hospitality events. But on Palm Sunday they were swept up into the passion narrative itself. And they changed the whole way we thought about the story we thought we knew.

Sam from Afghanistan sums up St Martin’s because he is the asylum-seeker who played Jesus in the drama and was water boarded for our salvation. He sums up St Martin’s because we aren’t about condescendingly making welcome alienated strangers, but instead about seeking out the rejected precisely because they are the energy and the life-force that will transform us all. Sam sums up our community not because he gratefully received our pity but because he boldly showed us the heart of God.”

The choice that Jesus puts to us in this parable is either one of standing with those who persistently reject the cornerstone or becoming those who seek out the rejected precisely because they are the energy and the life-force that will transform us all and, thereby, becoming a light to the nations. Which do we want to be and which will we choose to be?

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Ed Kowalczyk - Cornerstone.

Renewal from the edge

St Mark's Pennington and St Thomas' Lymington are spending the next six weeks exploring HeartEdge themes including the 4 Cs. I joined them this Sunday to preach and introduce HeartEdge. Catherine Duce will preach for the final Sunday in the series. Their services can be viewed at https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCKRF1l-cpB5-rn1o5tUNWUw.

Here is the sermon I shared:

Are you at the heart (at the centre) or on the edge? Is your church at the heart or on the edge?

Your answer to that question will depend on what you identify as the area under consideration and where you see the centre or heart being. So, if the question was, are Pennington and Lymington at the heart of Hampshire, you might give a different answer to being asked whether the churches of Lymington and Pennington are at the heart of their local communities. The question can also be posed personally in terms of your churches; are you at the heart of your church or on the margins? Again, in order to answer that question, you have to think first, where is or what is the heart of this church?

These are important questions for all churches to be asking and the answers that we give shape the mission and ministry of each church, in ways that can be positive or negative. The HeartEdge renewal movement provides a framework for exploring these questions, but it is one which may reverse or challenge some of the assumptions you may have when you begin to ask these questions.

Our Gospel reading today (Matthew 21:23-32) is based on the same questions and, within HeartEdge, we want to be faithful to the answers it gives. As the beginning of John’s Gospel puts it, the Word became flesh and lived among us, the true light, which enlightens everyone, was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God. That’s essentially what we see happening in today’s Gospel. 

The beginning of John's Gospel says that God came into the world but was rejected and not recognised. Yet, the stone that the builders rejected became the cornerstone. The one who was at the centre of the Universe – the creator God – chose to be on the edge by becoming one with his creation; not as one born with power and prestige, but as one on the edge – a servant, a slave – who was then unrecognised, rejected and killed.

God chose to be on the edge, with those on the edge, and to be recognised by those on the edge. That’s what today’s Gospel reading tells us; those at the centre of religious life in Jesus’ day - the chief priests and the elders of the people – didn’t recognise him. But those on the edge of religious life (including those excluded from it) – the tax collectors and prostitutes, did recognise him. As he said of John the Baptist: ‘John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.’ The clear implication from Jesus is that exactly the same thing was happening in regard to his ministry too.

So, we ask the questions with which we began this sermon not because the centre is the place to be and the place into which everyone needs to be brought, but, instead, because God is actually with those on the edge and the renewal of the heart – the centre – will only come from those on the edge.

‘At the heart. On the edge.’ is the vision statement of St Martin-in-the-Fields. Sam Wells, our Vicar, has explained what it means for us. St Martin’s is at the heart of London and at the heart of the establishment. Theologically, St Martin’s exists to celebrate, enjoy, and embody God being with us – the heart of it all. This is not a narcissistic notion that we are the heart, but a conviction that God is the heart and we want to be with God. The word ‘heart’ refers to feeling, humanity, passion, emotion. It means the arts, the creativity and joy that move us beyond ourselves to a plane of hope, longing, and glory. It means companionship, from a meal shared in our café or a gift for a friend perhaps bought in our shop. At the heart means not standing on the sidelines telling the government what to do, but getting into the action, where honest mistakes are made but genuine good comes about, where new partners are found and social ideas take shape.

The edge, for us, refers to the edge of Trafalgar Square, looking over its splendour and commotion, pageant and protest. But theologically, as wehave been reflecting, the word ‘edge’ speaks of the conviction that God’s heart is on the edge of human society, with those who have been excluded or rejected or ignored. God is most evidently encountered among those in the margins and on the edge. St Martin’s isn’t about bringing those on the imagined ‘edge’ into the exalted ‘middle’; it’s about saying we want to be where God is, and God’s on the edge, so we want to be there too.

Being on the edge does mean facing the cost of being, at times, on the edge of the church. Some of the issues we care deeply about are not areas of consensus in the church. We aim to practise what we believe is a true gospel where we receive all the gifts God is giving us, especially the ones that the church has for so long despised or patronised. We believe that God is giving the church everything it needs for the renewal of its life in the people who find themselves to be on the edge. But the ‘edge’ also means a leading edge, perhaps a cutting edge with an outstanding music programme, a green footprint, and an eye for issues around disability. In particular it means a commercial enterprise that’s integrated into the life of the church community and, rather than simply being a source of funds, is at the forefront of the congregations interface with London’s civil economy.

The stone that the builders rejected didn’t find a place in the wall somewhere by being thoughtfully included like a last-minute addition to a family photo. The rejected stone became the cornerstone, the keystone – the stone that held up all the others, the crucial link, the vital connection. The rejected stone was Jesus, as our Gospel reading makes clear. In his crucifixion he was rejected by the builders – yet in his resurrection he became the cornerstone of forgiveness and eternal life. That’s what ministry and mission are all about – not condescendingly making welcome alienated strangers, but seeking out the rejected precisely because they are the energy and the life-force that will transform us all. Every minister, every missionary, every evangelist, every disciple should have these words over their desk, their windscreen, on their screensaver, in the photo section of their wallet, wherever they see it all the time – the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. 

If you’re looking for where the future church is coming from, look at what the church and society has so blithely rejected. The life of the church is about constantly recognising the sin of how much we have rejected, and celebrating the grace that God gives us back what we once rejected to become the cornerstone of our lives. That’s what prophetic ministry means. That’s what HeartEdge is all about.
 

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Paul Baloche - God, My Rock.