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Showing posts with label dostoevsky. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dostoevsky. Show all posts

Saturday, 20 June 2026

International Times: Vitality and Magic

My latest exhibition review for International Times is on 'Hulda Guzman: Please awake – asked Nature kindly' at Turner Contemporary:

'Surrealism and Magic Realism have both had infuential Latin American expressions. The Caribbean islands and Mexico City were all ‘places of convergence and relay for Surrealism’ (including the work of Frida Kahlo and Leonora Carrington), while Magic Realism was a term originally used in relation to the fantastical elements of European Romanticism and the religious aspects of novels by Fyodor Dostoevesky before becoming a descriptor for the Neue Sachlichkeit paintings of 1920’s Germany and then the strapline for the novels of South American writers, starting with Jorge Luis Borges.

The paintings of Hulda Guzmán find their own significant space within this web of influences and prior expressions.'

My earlier pieces for IT are: an interview with the artist Alexander de Cadenet; an interview with artist, poet, priest Spencer Reece, an interview with the poet Chris Emery, an interview with Jago Cooper, Director of the the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts, a profile of singer-songwriter Bill Fay, plus reviews of: 
Several of my short stories have been published by IT including three about Nicola Ravenscroft's EarthAngel sculptures (then called mudcubs), which we exhibited at St Andrew's Wickford in 2022. The first story in the series is 'The Mudcubs and the O Zone holes'. The second is 'The Mudcubs and the Clean-Up King', and the third is 'The mudcubs and the Wall'. My other short stories to have been published by International Times are 'The Black Rain', a story about the impact of violence in our media, 'The New Dark Ages', a story about principles and understandings that are gradually fading away from our modern societies, and 'The curious glasses', a story based on the butterfly effect.

IT have also published several of my poems, including 'Spencer Reece at Bemerton' which is based on the visit that I made to Bemerton in 2026 with Spencer Reece, 'The ABC of creativity', which covers attention, beginning and creation, and 'The Edge of Chaos', a state of existence poem. Also published have been three poems from my 'Five Trios' series. 'Barking' is about St Margaret’s Barking and Barking Abbey and draws on my time as a curate at St Margaret's. 'Bradwell' is a celebration of the history of the Chapel of St Peter-on-the-Wall, the Othona Community, and of pilgrimage to those places. Broomfield in Essex became a village of artists following the arrival of Revd John Rutherford in 1930. His daughter, the artist Rosemary Rutherford, also moved with them and made the vicarage a base for her artwork including paintings and stained glass. Then, Gwynneth Holt and Thomas Bayliss Huxley-Jones moved to Broomfield in 1949 where they shared a large studio in their garden and both achieved high personal success. 'Broomfield' reviews their stories, work, legacy and motivations.

To read my poems published by Stride, click here, here, here, here, here, and here. My poems published in Amethyst Review are: 'Runwell', 'Are/Are Not', 'Attend, attend' and 'Maritain, Green, Beckett and Anderson in conversation down through the ages'.

I am among those whose poetry has been included in Thin Places & Sacred Spaces, a recent anthology from Amethyst Press. I also had a poem included in All Shall Be Well: Poems for Julian of Norwich, the first Amethyst Press anthology of new poems.

'Five Trios' is a series of poems on thin places and sacred spaces in the Diocese of Chelmsford. The five poems in the series are:
These poems have been published by Amethyst Review and International Times.

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Joni Mitchell - Sweet Bird.


Sunday, 22 March 2026

Our old story ends and a new one begins

Here's the sermon that I shared this morning at St Catherine's Wickford:

Fyodor Dostoevsky was a famous and talented author who was born in 1821 in St. Petersburg, Russia, and died in 1881. At 27, he became involved in a group of authors who got together regularly to discuss ideas. The ideas they discussed were considered treason. They were all arrested and imprisoned.

At Peter and Paul Fortress, Dostoevsky and his book club were sentenced to execution by firing squad. This was actually a mock execution but they didn’t know that. They were brought out, told they were going to be executed, taken to the spot, blindfolded, their crimes read out, the command was given, and the rifles were raised. Then, at the last moment, the execution was stopped and their sentence changed to four years hard labour in prison in Siberia and then four years in exile. Dostoyevsky writes a lot about this; how life was given back to him, how he had thought he was seconds away from being executed.

He was put in chains, put in a sleigh, as it was winter, and travelled to Siberia. He suffered with severe frostbite and for the rest of his life would have scars from the chains. As he was going into the prison, he was given a little New Testament. So, the only thing he had to read for four years was this New Testament. He read it over and over, especially the gospel of John, especially the story of Lazarus.

He came to believe in Jesus and, in his writings, he compares himself to Lazarus having a chance to live again. All his novels after that contain in some form, his Christian faith. Richard Harries notes that “He wrote that his faith had come ‘through a furnace of doubt’ and was focused on a deep attraction to the person of Jesus Christ.” “He entered deeply into the atheism of his age” so that, as Malcolm Jones has written, “in reading Dostoevskii we are in the presence of a genius wrestling with the problems of rethinking Christianity in the modern age.”

His most famous novel is ‘Crime and Punishment’, a novel written in 1866. People say that ‘Crime and Punishment’ is a poor translation and that the title would be better translated ‘Crime and Consequences’.

The novel centres around the main character – a young man – named Raskolnikov who is a young intelligent, college student, very poor, and living in St. Petersburg. He is an atheist who believes that ‘exceptional men’ are beyond good and evil. Normal laws of morality do not apply to such men. He gives the example of Napoleon; a man who killed hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, but is regarded a great man because he’s exceptional. Ordinary laws of morality didn’t apply to him. Raskolnikov believes he is an exceptional man and, to prove it, murders two old woman who are sisters. Obviously, he is a very lost young man.

Most of the novel is spent inside his head, as he is “locked up in a mental prison”. Ultimately, though, it’s a book about redemption. In the end, Raskolnikov - the murderer, the atheist, the man who convinced himself that he was beyond good and evil – finds redemption. He finds redemption in a young woman named Sonya, who has been forced into prostitution through poverty and to provide for two orphaned children. She is like Mary Magdalene, having found redemption and meaning in Christ.

In one of the most moving scenes, which is actually “the turning point in the book”, the two are together. Raskolnikov has not confessed his crime to Sonya, but will later. She has a bible laying on her table. Raskolnikov picks up the bible and asks, “Where is the part about Lazarus?” She flips to it and reads him the story of the raising of Lazarus, tears streaming down her face as she reads. Afterwards, he says “Do you believe this?” She replies, “With all my heart.” He’s not asking if she believes in the story, what he’s really asking is: “Do you believe there’s redemption for someone like me, a murderer?”

The closing sentence of this scene reads as follows:

Sonya says “That’s all about the raising of Lazarus.” she whispered. The candle was flickering out and the battered candlestick casting a dim light in this destitute room upon the murderer and the harlot strangely come together over the reading of the eternal book.

They are two lost souls on the road to redemption reading about the raising of Lazarus.

Eventually, Raskolnikov confesses his crime to Sonya; that he’s murdered the two older women. One of these women was Sonya’s close friend, Lizaveta. In fact, it was Lizaveta who gave the bible to Sonya. Sonya’s response to Raskolnikov is, “What have you done to yourself?” and she cries. She gives him her cross, which was also given her by Lizaveta, and urges him to confess in public and give himself up for arrest and punishment. Eventually, he wears her cross, goes to the police and confesses. He is convicted and sent to Siberia to prison. Sonya travels with him, to be near him and to visit him in prison. She is a picture of Christ, who doesn’t forsake him.

The closing paragraphs of the book read as follows:

Under his pillow lay the New Testament. He took the book out. It belonged to Sonya, it was the same one from which she had read to him about the raising of Lazarus. At the beginning, he had thought she would hound him with religion, forever talking about the Gospels and forcing books on him. But to his great amazement, she never once spoke of it, never once even offered him the New Testament. He had to ask her for it himself.

He had not even opened it yet. Nor did he open it now, but a thought flashed in his mind: “Can her convictions be mine?

Here begins a new account, the account of a man’s gradual renewal, the account of his gradual regeneration, his gradual transition from one world to another. It might make the subject of a new story—but our present story is ended.

So, the “reading of the Lazarus story to Raskolnikov and the wearing of the cross bear fruit as the novel proceeds.” “Raskolnikov’s state is effectively death; and the significance of Christ’s command to Lazarus, ‘Come forth!’ is obvious.” That is what happens to Raskolnikov as the novel proceeds. “The divine words addressed to Lazarus – ‘Come forth’ – have been heard” and Raskolnikov stumbles out of the death of his mental tomb.

Dostoyevsky who became a Christian because of the New Testament, especially the story of Lazarus, then wrote a book about a murderer finding redemption through the New Testament and the story of Lazarus. Neither Dostoevsky or Raskolnikov die physically, but their experiences lead them to a place where they see themselves as having been given new life in Christ. Their old story ends and a new story begins. That is what the story of Lazarus promises; when we’re scared and feel defeated – caught up in our despair, sorrow, anger, guilt, or shame, Jesus comes and brings redemption into our stories. That is what the story of Lazarus is about and that is how we regain balance after trauma, grief, imprisonment, shame, guilt or whatever. Dostoevsky knew this in his own life and described it in depth in the story of Raskolnikov.

I wonder whether you have ever been locked in a mental prison and how you got free.
I wonder what Jesus’ words to Lazarus, ‘Come forth’, mean for you.
I wonder whether there is a story in your life which needs to end, so another can begin.

(Adapted from David Eiffert, ‘The God who bleeds 8: Lazarus and Dostoevsky’ - https://gospelanchor.org/the-god-who-bleeds-8-lazarus-and-dostoyevsky/; with additional quotes from Richard Harries’ ‘Haunted By Christ’ and Rowan Williams’ ‘Dostoevsky: Language, Faith and Fiction’)

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Joseph Arthur - Dear Lord.

Sunday, 21 January 2024

The water of our lives and our communities can become wine

Here's the sermon I shared at St Andrew’s Wickford this morning:

The writer of John’s Gospel says that this miracle is the first that Jesus performed but the word used for first also means that it is the key miracle, the one that unlocks and explains all the others (John 2: 1 – 11). So, we need to ask ourselves what it is that we learn from this miracle that helps us to understand more fully what Jesus was doing through his ministry, death and resurrection.

The miracle is one of transformation; water being transformed into wine with this transformation bringing joy to the wedding guests. Fyodor Dostoevsky, in The Brother’s Karamasov, sees this miracle’s significance in the joy that Jesus brings to ordinary people: “It was not grief but men’s gladness that Jesus extolled when he worked his first miracle – he helped people to be happy … his heart was open … to the simple and artless joys of ignorant human beings, ignorant but not cunning, who had warmly bidden him to their poor wedding.” Later in John’s Gospel Jesus speaks himself about having come to bring life in all its fullness which must include this sense of joy and gladness in life. The filling of the water jars to the full also speaks of this sense of life being filled with goodness and gladness.

In Luke 6: 38 Jesus speaks again about fullness. Here he links our fullness to our giving: “Give to others, and God will give to you. Indeed, you will receive a full measure, a generous helping, poured out into your hands – all that you can hold.” This emphasis is important because the transformation of water into wine suggests that Jesus does not simply bless human life as it is but comes to transform it.

Water is essential to life. The human body is 75% water and needs a constant supply of water to function. The average person can only survive for about three days without any water at all. So, water is a basic need for all of us and speaks to us of the basic needs that we all need to be fulfilled in order that we can live and live comfortably.

But God wants something better for us than a life based just on the meeting of our basic needs and the turning of water into wine gives us a clue as to what that better thing is. Wine reminds us of the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. That moment when, out of love for all people, he lays down his own life in order to save us from all that is wrong with our lives and our world. So, wine is a reminder to us of the fact that the greatest love is shown through sacrifice.

This is the transformation that Jesus seeks to bring to human life. It is a change from human existence to human life; a change from the selfish experience of meeting our own basic needs to the spiritual experience of sharing what we have will others; a change from the evolutionary imperative of the survival of the fittest to the Christian imperative of sacrificial love.

This transformation is something that we seek to show and need to show in our churches, which is in part why we have this new exhibition in church by Maciej Hoffman. Maciej chooses “themes that pervade everyday life, our constant battle with problems which we inevitably face … issues which haunt us for years, shaping our perspective on the world and building us as humans”. He seeks: “contrasts between imagination and reality. Our expectations and our anticipations are never what we finally meet in real life … whether it’s beauty and ugliness, order or chaos - the point is, how it’s reflected in the mirror of my interpretation … I am moved by people’s stories with all their misfortunes and moments of happiness. It seems like one is always part of the other.” This is our everyday experience that Jesus comes to transform.

This transformation is also symbolised in the pouring out of the wine from the water jars. It may even be that this is the moment of transformation; just as what is drawn from the water jars to be shared with others is wine so, as we give to others, we are transformed from selfish to sacrificial. It may be that it is in the act of giving that our transformation comes. That is also why, alongside Maciej’s exhibition, we are unveiled David Folley’s descent from the cross, which shows us the reality of the suffering that was entailed in the ultimate sacrifice made for us on the cross by Christ.

Finally, there is significance in the reference to the role of the water jars in ritual washing. The water jars can be seen as signifying the Jewish faith that requires such ritual cleansing but from those jars and from that faith comes a new wine that must be poured out and shared with others. The new wine is for all; not just for the first but kept for the last as well. Wine symbolises the blood of Christ which is shed for all. God’s grace is no longer contained solely within the confines of the Jewish faith; coming to God no longer requires the meeting of the standards of the Law. This new wine bursts the old skins and is shared with all people of every nation, race, gender, age and sexuality.

So, we see depicted a change from the old order, the old covenant, to the new. And this change extends the transformation to all. What is depicted then is not solely a change for us as individuals but a societal change no longer affecting one nation but all nations. What is depicted is a new way of life, a new way of being human, which can, perhaps, be summed up in the words of John 15: 13, “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends”. He looks at all of us, at all human beings, and says, “You are my friends”. Jesus allowed his own life to end so that all people could know what it is like to really live.

In 21st century Britain we live in a culture that is parched and dry and desperately in need of the water of life. I still remember a Guardian article outlining reasons why kindness has gone out of fashion in the age of the free market and the selfish gene. The writers noted that “for most of western history the dominant tradition of kindness has been Christianity” which “functioned as a cultural cement, binding individuals into society” until “the Christian rule ‘love thy neighbour as thyself’ came under increasing attack from competitive individualism.” Our society is parched of kindness and we need Jesus to bring transformation.

In Isaiah we read: “The poor and needy search for water, but there is none; their tongues are parched with thirst. But I the LORD will answer them; I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs.” (Isaiah 41. 17 & 18)

Jesus is the river that flows in the desert of our selfish, self-centred existence because he shows us how to live in his new way of being human, loving God with all our being and loving our neighbours as ourselves. God wants us to look at Jesus and see how human life was originally intended to be lived before we chose the path of self-centredness. It is when we look at Jesus and begin to live life his way that transformation comes in our lives and our world. The water of our lives and our communities can become wine. May it be so for us. Amen.

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Judee Sill - The Donor.

Saturday, 29 July 2023

Parish Quiet Day: Balance in our lives

 


























We had a wonderful day at the Diocesan Retreat House in Pleasley today enjoying the stillness there during our annual Parish Quiet Day for the Wickford and Runwell Team Ministry. We were reflecting on Martha, Mary and Lazarus, Companions of Our Lord and, although I was the one reflecting on Lazarus, I was also reminded of an earlier reflection that I prepared about Martha and Mary - see here.

Our theme for the day was balance in our lives. This is what I shared regarding Lazarus (which is adapted from David Eiffert):

Fyodor Dostoevsky was a famous and talented author who was born in 1821 in St. Petersburg, Russia, and died in 1881. At 27, he became involved in a group of authors who got together regularly to discuss ideas. The ideas they discussed were considered treason. They were all arrested and imprisoned.

At Peter and Paul Fortress, Dostoevsky and his book club were sentenced to execution by firing squad. This was actually a mock execution but they didn’t know that. They were brought out, told they were going to be executed, taken to the spot, blindfolded, their crimes read out, the command was given, and the rifles were raised. Then, at the last moment, the execution was stopped and their sentence changed to four years hard labour in prison in Siberia and then four years in exile. Dostoyevsky writes a lot about this; how life was given back to him, how he had thought he was seconds away from being executed.

He was put in chains, put in a sleigh, as it was winter, and travelled to Siberia. He suffered with severe frostbite and for the rest of his life would have scars from the chains. As he was going into the prison, he was given a little New Testament. So, the only thing he had to read for four years was this New Testament. He read it over and over, especially the gospel of John, especially the story of Lazarus.

He came to believe in Jesus and, in his writings, he compares himself to Lazarus having a chance to live again. All his novels after that contain in some form, his Christian faith. Richard Harries notes that “He wrote that his faith had come ‘through a furnace of doubt’ and was focused on a deep attraction to the person of Jesus Christ.” “He entered deeply into the atheism of his age” so that, as Malcolm Jones has written, “in reading Dostoevskii we are in the presence of a genius wrestling with the problems of rethinking Christianity in the modern age.” 

His most famous novel is ‘Crime and Punishment’, a novel written in 1866. People say that ‘Crime and Punishment’ is a poor translation and that the title would be better translated ‘Crime and Consequences’.

The novel centres around the main character – a young man – named Raskolnikov who is a young intelligent, college student, very poor, and living in St. Petersburg. He is an atheist who believes that ‘exceptional men’ are beyond good and evil. Normal laws of morality do not apply to such men. He gives the example of Napoleon; a man who killed hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, but is regarded a great man because he’s exceptional. Ordinary laws of morality didn’t apply to him. Raskolnikov believes he is an exceptional man and, to prove it, murders two old woman who are sisters. Obviously, he is a very lost young man.

Most of the novel is spent inside his head, as he is “locked up in a mental prison”. Ultimately, though, it’s a book about redemption. In the end, Raskolnikov - the murderer, the atheist, the man who convinced himself that he was beyond good and evil – finds redemption. He finds redemption in a young woman named Sonya, who has been forced into prostitution through poverty and to provide for two orphaned children. She is like Mary Magdalene, having found redemption and meaning in Christ.

In one of the most moving scenes, which is actually “the turning point in the book”, the two are together. Raskolnikov has not confessed his crime to Sonya, but will later. She has a bible laying on her table. Raskolnikov picks up the bible and asks, “Where is the part about Lazarus?” She flips to it and reads him the story of the raising of Lazarus, tears streaming down her face as she reads. Afterwards, he says “Do you believe this?” She replies, “With all my heart.” He’s not asking if she believes in the story, what he’s really asking is: “Do you believe there’s redemption for someone like me, a murderer?”

The closing sentence of this scene reads as follows:

Sonya says “That’s all about the raising of Lazarus.” she whispered. The candle was flickering out and the battered candlestick casting a dim light in this destitute room upon the murderer and the harlot strangely come together over the reading of the eternal book.

They are two lost souls on the road to redemption reading about the raising of Lazarus.

Eventually, Raskolnikov confesses his crime to Sonya; that he’s murdered the two older women. One of these women was Sonya’s close friend, Lizaveta. In fact, it was Lizaveta who gave the bible to Sonya. Sonya’s response to Raskolnikov is, “What have you done to yourself?” and she cries. She gives him her cross, which was also given her by Lizaveta, and urges him to confess in public and give himself up for arrest and punishment. Eventually, he wears her cross, goes to the police and confesses. He is convicted and sent to Siberia to prison. Sonya travels with him, to be near him and to visit him in prison. She is a picture of Christ, who doesn’t forsake him.

The closing paragraphs of the book read as follows:

Under his pillow lay the New Testament. He took the book out. It belonged to Sonya, it was the same one from which she had read to him about the raising of Lazarus. At the beginning, he had thought she would hound him with religion, forever talking about the Gospels and forcing books on him. But to his great amazement, she never once spoke of it, never once even offered him the New Testament. He had to ask her for it himself.

He had not even opened it yet. Nor did he open it now, but a thought flashed in his mind: “Can her convictions be mine?

Here begins a new account, the account of a man’s gradual renewal, the account of his gradual regeneration, his gradual transition from one world to another. It might make the subject of a new story—but our present story is ended.

So, the “reading of the Lazarus story to Raskolnikov and the wearing of the cross bear fruit as the novel proceeds.” “Raskolnikov’s state is effectively death; and the significance of Christ’s command to Lazarus, ‘Come forth!’ is obvious.” That is what happens to Raskolnikov as the novel proceeds. “The divine words addressed to Lazarus – ‘Come forth’ – have been heard” and Raskolnikov stumbles out of the death of his mental tomb.

Dostoyevsky who became a Christian because of the New Testament, especially the story of Lazarus, then wrote a book about a murderer finding redemption through the New Testament and the story of Lazarus. Neither Dostoevsky or Raskolnikov die physically, but their experiences lead them to a place where they see themselves as having been given new life in Christ. Their old story ends and a new story begins. That is what the story of Lazarus promises; when we’re scared and feel defeated – caught up in our despair, sorrow, anger, guilt, or shame, Jesus comes and brings redemption into our stories. That is what the story of Lazarus is about and that is how we regain balance after trauma, grief, imprisonment, shame, guilt or whatever. Dostoevsky knew this in his own life and described it in depth in the story of Raskolnikov.
  • I wonder whether you have ever been locked in a mental prison and how you got free.
  • I wonder what Jesus’ words to Lazarus, ‘Come forth’, mean for you.
  • I wonder whether there is a story in your life which needs to end, so another can begin.
(Adapted from David Eiffert, ‘The God who bleeds 8: Lazarus and Dostoevsky’ - https://gospelanchor.org/the-god-who-bleeds-8-lazarus-and-dostoyevsky/; with additional quotes from Richard Harries’ ‘Haunted By Christ’ and Rowan Williams’ ‘Dostoevsky: Language, Faith and Fiction’)

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Joy Oladokun - Breathe Again.

Monday, 29 June 2020

Witnesses who give testimony in a trial

Here's the reflection I shared in today's lunchtime Eucharist for St Martin-in-the-Fields:

“I have been used for many years to studying the histories of other times, and to examining and weighing the evidence of those who have written about them, and I know of no one fact in the history of mankind which is proved by better and fuller evidence of every sort, to the understanding of a fair inquirer, than the great sign which God has given us that Christ died and rose again from the dead.” Professor Thomas Arnold

“Is not the nature of Christ, in the words of the New Testament, enough to pierce to the soul anyone with a soul to be pierced? … he still looms over the world, his message still clear, his pity still infinite, his consolation still effective, his words still full of glory, wisdom and love.” Bernard Levin

“I believe there is no one lovelier, deeper, more sympathetic and more perfect than Jesus. I say to myself, with jealous love, that not only is there no one else like him but there never could be anyone like him.” Fyodor Dostoevsky

“In that dramatic scene on Calvary’s hill three men were crucified. All three were crucified for the same crime - the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thus fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for love, truth and goodness, and thereby rose above his environment. Perhaps the South, the nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists.” Martin Luther King Jr

"Where was Mother Teresa's Jesus? He was in the Bible, in the church, in her prayer, in the Eucharist, in her sisters, in the heart of everyone she met, and especially in the poorest of the poor and the lowest of the low. Jesus was in disguise in each one of them. Jesus was behind the foundation of her order. Jesus was behind all that she did.” Mother Teresa

“A man who was merely a man and said the sort of thing Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic—on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg—or else he would be the Devil of Hell. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill him as a demon or you can fall at his feet and call Him Lord and God … however strange or terrifying or unlikely it may seem, I have to accept the view that he was and is God.” C. S. Lewis

“Brothers and sisters, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received and on which you have taken your stand … For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Peter, and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me also, as to one abnormally born.” Saint Paul

“Jesus of Nazareth was a man accredited by God to you by miracles, wonders and signs, which God did among you through him, as you yourselves know. This man was handed over to you by God’s set purpose and foreknowledge; and you, with the help of wicked men, put him to death by nailing him to the cross. But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him.” Saint Peter

“You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Saint Peter

All those testimonies to Jesus that you have just heard stem from the one testimony that we have just listened to, the moment when Peter speaks out his belief that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of the living God (Matthew 16: 13-20). Jesus calls Peter ‘the rock’ and he is the rock because he was the first to testify to Jesus and all the millions of people that have followed him in testifying to Jesus have built on the foundation of the testimony that Peter originally gave.

Testimony is what is given by a witness in a trial. A witness makes his or her statement as part of a trial in which the truth is at stake and where the question, ‘What is the truth?’ is what is being argued. Lesslie Newbigin has argued that this is what is “at the heart of the biblical vision of the human situation that the believer is a witness who gives his testimony in a trial.”

Where is the trial? It is all around us, it is life itself? In all situations we encounter, there is challenge to our faith and there is a need for us to testify in words and actions to our belief in Christ. Whenever people act as though human beings are entirely self-reliant, there is a challenge to our faith. Whenever people argue that suffering and disasters mean that there cannot be a good God, we are on the witness stand. Whenever people claim that scientific advances or psychological insights can explain away belief in God, we are in the courtroom. Whenever a response of love is called for, our witness is at stake.

But we are not alone in being witnesses. We are one with millions of others who have testified to the reality and presence of Jesus Christ in their lives. No courtroom on earth could cope with the number of witnesses to Christ who could be called by the defence. That is why the writer of Hebrews says, “Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.”

This is what Peter began by saying, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” We are part of the witness that has been built on that rock. So let us be encouraged today by the incredible numbers of others testifying to Christ and let us be challenged to add our own testimony in words and actions to those of our brothers and sisters in Christ because every day in every situation we face, we and our faith are ‘on trial’.

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Thursday, 23 January 2020

Come and see

Here's my sermon from last Sunday for the Chinese congregations at St Martin-in-the-Fields:

Seeing is believing, they say. When Thomas was told that Jesus had risen from the dead, he famously said unless I see … I will not believe.

In today’s Gospel reading (John 1.29-42) we hear Jesus saying to those who would become his first disciples, ‘Come and see.’ They came and saw … and … remained with him that day. Then they said what they saw, telling Simon Peter, Andrew’s brother, ‘We have found the Messiah.’

The two disciples initially speak to Jesus because John the Baptist has told them to look at Jesus. John does so because of what he has seen: ‘John testified, ‘I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him. I myself did not know him, but the one who sent me to baptize with water said to me, “He on whom you see the Spirit descend and remain is the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.” And I myself have seen and have testified that this is the Son of God.’’

At the beginning of his story, the writer of John’s Gospel is telling us to come and see Jesus for ourselves. That is his purpose in writing. What is it that we see when we come and see?

James Allan Francis gives us one understanding when he writes in ‘One Solitary Life’: ‘Here is a man who was born in an obscure village, the child of a peasant woman. He grew up in another obscure village, where He worked in a carpenter shop until He was thirty, and then for three years He was an itinerant preacher. He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never owned a home. He never had a family. He never went to college. He never put his foot inside a big city. He never travelled two hundred miles from the place where He was born. He never did one of the things that usually accompany greatness. He had no credentials but Himself. He had nothing to do with this world except the naked power of His divine manhood. While still a young man, the tide of public opinion turned against Him. His friends ran away. One of them denied Him. He was turned over to His enemies. He went through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between two thieves. His executioners gambled for the only piece of property He had on earth while He was dying—and that was his coat. When he was dead He was taken down and laid in a borrowed grave through the pity of a friend. Nineteen wide centuries have come and gone and today He is the centrepiece of the human race and the leader of the column of progress. I am far within the mark when I say that all the armies that ever marched, and all the navies that ever were built, and all the parliaments that ever sat, all the kings that ever reigned, put together have not affected the life of man upon this earth as powerfully as has that One Solitary Life.

Allan Francis is saying that when we look at Jesus we see an amazing story of incredible influence deriving from one obscure life; a story so amazing that it must be of God, a life so amazing that it must be of God.

But if the story and its influence are amazing, the person that we see is equally so. St Paul describes the character of Jesus in Philippians 2: ‘Christ Jesus … / though he was in the form of God, / did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, / but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, / being born in human likeness. / And being found in human form, / he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death — / even death on a cross.’

In Christ’s actions and character we see the most exceptional love expressed in self-sacrifice. Jesus was, as Lord Hailsham once said, ‘irresistibly attractive.’ That is why Fyodor Dostoevsky wrote: ‘I believe there is no one lovelier, deeper, more sympathetic and more perfect than Jesus. I say to myself, with jealous love, that not only is there no one else like him but there never could be anyone like him.’ It is why Bernard Levin poses the question: ‘Is not the nature of Christ, in the words of the New Testament, enough to pierce to the soul anyone with a soul to be pierced? … he still looms over the world, his message still clear, his pity still infinite, his consolation still effective, his words still full of glory, wisdom and love.’ Jesus was ‘Love all lovely, Love Divine,’ as Christina Rossetti noted.

If we say what we see when we come and see Jesus, then we are likely to say with the writer of John’s Gospel: ‘the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth … From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace … No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.’

When we come and see Jesus, we also see God himself. As the writer of the Letter to the Hebrews says: ‘God has spoken to us by a Son … He is the reflection of God’s glory and the exact imprint of God’s very being.’

The next day one of the disciples to whom Jesus said, ‘Come and see,’ repeated those same words to a friend. We read in John 1. 43 – 52 that: ‘Philip found Nathanael and said to him, “We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.” Nathanael said to him, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Come and see.”’

Philip was giving testimony by saying what he had seen and by encouraging Nathanael to come and see for himself. That is what we are called to do ourselves, once we have seen Jesus ourselves. We don’t need to have theological training. We don’t need to be able to answer every question that others have about the meaning of life or the existence of God. We simply say, ‘Come and see Jesus,’ trusting that when people genuinely see Jesus for who he is, like us, they will fall in love with him and wish to follow him too.

By inviting others to ‘Come and see Jesus,’ we are giving our testimony that he is the most important person in our life and in the lives of all people. We are saying, ‘I could invite you to see all sorts of things and all sorts of people, but I want you to see Jesus because he is the one that is most important to me.

Testimony is what is given by a witness in a trial. A witness makes his or her statement as part of a trial in which the truth is at stake and where the question, ‘What is the truth?’ is what is being argued. The missiologist Lesslie Newbigin argued that this is what is ‘at the heart of the biblical vision of the human situation that the believer is a witness who gives his testimony in a trial.’

Where is the trial? It is all around us, it is life itself? In all situations we encounter, there is challenge to our faith and there is a need for us to testify in words and actions to our belief in Christ. Whenever people act as though human beings are entirely self-reliant, there is a challenge to our faith. Whenever people argue that suffering and disasters mean that there cannot be a good God, we are on the witness stand. Whenever people claim that scientific advances or psychological insights can explain away belief in God, we are in the courtroom. Whenever a response of love is called for, our witness is at stake.

But we are not alone in being witnesses. We are one with millions of others who have testified to the reality and presence of Jesus Christ in their lives. No courtroom on earth could cope with the number of witnesses to Christ who could be called by the defence. That is why the writer of Hebrews says, “Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.”

This is what Andrew began by saying to Peter, ‘We have found the Messiah.’ Later, when Jesus asked his disciples, ‘Who do people say that I am?’ Peter gave the answer, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ He had come to see Jesus at the invitation of his brother. By coming to see for himself, he had realised that Jesus was the Son of God and could therefore tell others to come and see and then say what they saw.

We are part of the witness that has been built on that same rock. So let us be encouraged today by the incredible numbers of others testifying to Christ and let us be challenged to add our own testimony in words and actions to those of our brothers and sisters in Christ because every day in every situation we face, we and our faith are ‘on trial.’

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Tell Out My Soul The Greatness Of The Lord.

Saturday, 23 January 2016

Fraser, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Collins & Houtheusen: The fool sees things the wise person never can

Giles Fraser had a great comment piece in yesterday's Guardian about Tolstoy and War and Peace:

"Tolstoy believed there was quite a lot to be said for foolishness, here goes: all Christians are fools. Politicians can’t allow themselves to look or behave like fools. Therefore, politicians cannot be Christian ...

Tolstoy reminds us that to be a Christian is to be a fool and a social outcast, that anyone who wishes to follow Christ has to be prepared to die as an enemy of the state, nailed to the cross. It’s a little bit more than a few verses of Shine, Jesus, Shine on a Sunday morning ...

the fool sees things the wise person never can."

Jim Forest reminds us that, "In Leo Tolstoy’s memoir of his childhood, he fondly recalls Grisha, a holy fool who sometimes wandered about his parent’s estate and even came into the mansion itself without knocking on the door. “He gave little icons to those he took a fancy to,” Tolstoy remembered."

In an article for the Financial Times, Harry Eyres writes:

"The holy fool, or fool for Christ, is a key figure not just in Orthodox religion but in Russian culture. Holy fools are disruptive; they go around half-naked, act as Robin Hoods, taking from the rich and giving to the poor; and, as Sergey Ivanov writes in Holy Fools in Byzantium and Beyond (2006), they “provoke outrage by [their] deliberate unruliness” ...

The figure of the holy fool appears repeatedly in the novels of Dostoevsky. There are “true” holy fools, such as Elder Zosima, the inspired preacher in The Brothers Karamazov, and Bishop Tikhon in The Devils; there are also false holy fools, such as Semyon in the same novel. But the most fascinating holy fool of all may be Prince Myshkin, the hero of The Idiot, who is never explicitly named as such. Myshkin represents Dostoevsky’s attempt to portray “a positively beautiful man”; naive to the point of gullibility, emotionally empathetic and open, Myshkin ends up ruining the lives of the two women he loves. Perhaps Dostoevsky’s point is that in a thoroughly corrupt society even attempts to do good are bound to come to grief."

The Fool became a major theme and life focus for the mystical painter, Cecil Collins. For Collins, the Fool represents “innate, inviolate, primordial innocence which sees clearly” with our purpose in life being to recover that direct perception; the vision of the Fool. The Fool “is interested … in love and its manifestation in that harmony and wholeness which we call beauty” but because he is in “a state of creative vulnerability and openness” the Fool “is easily destroyed by the world.”

See also my ArtWay article entitled The Spirituality of the Artist-Clown. The significance of the clown in the life and work of Albert Houthuesen.

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The Rolling Stones - Fool To Cry.

Sunday, 17 January 2016

Sermon: The moment of transformation

This was my sermon for the Eucharist at St Vedast-alias-Foster this morning:

The writer of John’s Gospel says that this miracle is the first that Jesus performed but the word used for first also means that it is the key miracle, the one that unlocks and explains all the others (John 2: 1 – 11). So we need to ask ourselves what it is that we learn from this miracle that helps us to understand more fully what Jesus was doing through his ministry, death and resurrection.

The miracle is one of transformation; water being transformed into wine with this transformation bringing joy to the wedding guests. Dostoevsky, in The Brothers Karamasov, sees this miracle’s significance in the joy that Jesus brings to ordinary people: “It was not grief but men’s gladness that Jesus extolled when he worked his first miracle – he helped people to be happy … his heart was open … to the simple and artless joys of ignorant human beings, ignorant but not cunning, who had warmly bidden him to their poor wedding.” Later in John’s Gospel Jesus speaks himself about having come to bring life in all its fullness which must include this sense of joy and gladness in life. The filling of the water jars to the full also speaks of this sense of life being filled with goodness and gladness.

In Luke 6: 38 Jesus speaks again about fullness. Here he links our fullness to our giving: “Give to others, and God will give to you. Indeed, you will receive a full measure, a generous helping, poured out into your hands – all that you can hold.” This emphasis is important because the transformation of water into wine suggests that Jesus does not simply bless human life as it is but comes to transform it.

Water is essential to life. The human body is 75% water and needs a constant supply of water to function. The average person can only survive for about three days without any water at all. So, water is a basic need for all of us and speaks to us of the basic needs that we all need to be fulfilled in order that we can live and live comfortably.

But God wants something better for us than a life based just on the meeting of our basic needs and the turning of water into wine gives us a clue as to what that better thing is. Wine reminds us of the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. That moment when, out of love for all people, he lays down his own life in order to save us from all that is wrong with our lives and our world. So, wine is a reminder to us of the fact that the greatest love is shown through sacrifice.

This is the transformation that Jesus seeks to bring to human life. It is a change from human existence to human life; a change from the selfish experience of meeting our own basic needs to the spiritual experience of sharing what we have will others; a change from the evolutionary imperative of the survival of the fittest to the Christian imperative of sacrificial love.

This transformation is also symbolised in the pouring out of the wine from the water jars. It may even be that this is the moment of transformation just as what is drawn from the water jars to be shared with others is wine so as we give to others we are transformed from selfish to sacrificial. It may be that it is in the act of giving that our transformation comes.

There is also significance in the reference to the role of the water jars in ritual washing. The water jars can be seen as signifying the Jewish faith that require such ritual cleansing but from those jars and from that faith comes a new wine that must be poured out and shared with others. The new wine is for all; not just for the first but kept for the last as well. Wine symbolises the blood of Christ which is shed for all. God’s grace is no longer contained solely within the confine of the Jewish faith; coming to God no longer requires the meeting of the standards of the Law. This new wine bursts the old skins and is shared with all people of every nation, race, gender, age and sexuality.

So we see depicted a change from the old order, the old covenant, to the new. And this change extends the transformation to all. What is depicted then is not solely a change for us as individuals but a societal change no longer affecting one nation but all nations. What is depicted is a new way of life, a new way of being human, which can, perhaps, be summed up in the words of John 15: 13, “Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends”. He looks at all of us, at all human beings, and says, “You are my friends”. Jesus allowed his own life to end so that all people could know what it is like to really live.

In 21st century Britain we live in a culture that is parched and dry and desperately in need of the water of life. I still remember a Guardian article outlining reasons why kindness has gone out of fashion in the age of the free market and the selfish gene. The writers noted that “for most of western history the dominant tradition of kindness has been Christianity” which “functioned as a cultural cement, binding individuals into society” until “the Christian rule ‘love thy neighbour as thyself’ came under increasing attack from competitive individualism.” Our society is parched of kindness and we need Jesus to bring transformation.

In Isaiah we read: “The poor and needy search for water, but there is none; their tongues are parched with thirst. But I the LORD will answer them; I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water, and the parched ground into springs.” (Isaiah 41. 17 & 18)

Our Psalm promised that we shall be satisfied with the abundance of God’s house; we shall drink from the river of God’s delights. For with God is the well of life and in his light shall we see light (Psalm 36).

Jesus is the river that flows in the desert of our selfish, self-centred existence because he shows us how to live in his new way of being human, loving God with all our being and loving our neighbours as ourselves. God wants us to look at Jesus and see how human life was originally intended to be lived before we chose the path of self-centredness. It is when we look at Jesus and begin to live life his way that transformation comes in our lives and our world. The water of our lives and our communities can become wine.

When that is so for us as individuals, as communities and even as a nation then, as we heard in our reading from Isaiah, we shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate (Isaiah 62. 1 – 5).

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The Waterboys - My Love Is My Rock In The Weary Land.

Tuesday, 28 July 2015

Discover & explore: Beauty


“Beauty will save the world.” Fyodor Dostoevsky coined the phrase which was later borrowed by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn ‘to set the theme of his Nobel Lecture in 1970.’ Roger Scruton has written extensively about how aesthetics—and beauty in particular—enlarges our vision of humanity, helps us find meaning in our lives, and provides knowledge of our world’s intrinsic values. Most recently, Gregory Wolfe has used the phrase for the title of his recent book, Beauty Will Save the World: Recovering the Human in an Ideological Age, the theme of which is the importance of an aesthetic understanding for sustaining a civilized culture.’

Yet the proverb 'Beauty is in the eye of the beholder' suggests that there is a problem with our understandings of beauty i.e. that our understanding of it entirely subjective. Collective ideas of beauty can be formed, yet these can also be iniquitous, as with ’size zero’ in the fashion industry and the way in which that perception of beauty pressurises people into anorexia and bulimia.

The Guide to the Guildhall Art Gallery’s collection suggests that in many respects the Victorian period has defined our contemporary notions of beauty. It notes that: ‘Victorian painters set out to capture and redefine ideals of female beauty. The Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, founded in 1848, played a central role in promoting a new canon of beauty … Founder member Dante Gabriel Rossetti coined the term ‘stunner’ to describe enchanting women he met and usually convinced to pose for his paintings. From the 1860s, he embarked on a series of ‘subjectless’ sensual depictions of women … developing a new aesthetic of beauty, exemplified by La Ghirlandata (1873). This new style anticipated the Aesthetic Movement which was characterised by a departure from storytelling and a focus on the ‘Cult of Beauty’, sometimes drawing on religious imagery to convey the power of women’s looks.’

The Bible celebrates human beauty in the Song of Solomon and the beauty of creation in Psalms such as 8 and 19, where the sense that the natural world reflects to glory or beauty of God is celebrated. Ultimately, however, a very different perception of beauty is celebrated in scripture as a result of Christ’s incarnation and crucifixion. This different perception can be found exemplified in the history of Christian Art.

‘The most ancient representations of Jesus in human form can be found in the catacombs of Rome and in the church of Dura Europos, a town on the right bank of the Euphrates. There Jesus is represented as a youthful-looking “good shepherd” … with a round face, … beardless, and with short hair … he wears the upper-class clothes of that time … like a young patrician … The fact that he is made to look handsome is sometimes said to be for apologetic reasons.’

However, under ‘the influence of St. Bernard of Clairvaux and St. Francis of Assisi it was the earthly Jesus in his suffering who captured the attention of the devout … The late Middle Ages were dominated by … [images of] the suffering Christ … the Man of Sorrows, who in his suffering became like us … On the Isenheim altar at Colmar, Matthias Grünewald depicted, in a deeply moving and shocking manner, a hideously tormented man on a cross (finished in ca. 1516), which especially calls to mind … contemporary Latin American counterparts, where in numerous instances the tortured are pictured hanging on a cross.’ (A. Wessels, ‘Images of Jesus’, SCM Press 1990)

As part of my sabbatical art pilgrimage last year I visited churches linked to images of the crucifixion by Albert Servaes, Germaine Richier and Graham Sutherland which viewed Christ’s sacrifice as emblematic of human suffering in conflict and persecution. These were controversial as they challenged sentimental images of Christ and deliberately introduced ugliness into beautiful buildings. Servaes and Richier were both affected by decrees from the holy office which led to the removal of their artworks from the churches for which they had been commissioned. Servaes, with his Stations of the Cross and altarpiece for the Carmelite Chapel in Luithagen and Richier, with her crucifix for the church of Notre-Dame de Toute Grâce at Assy.

Their work, like that of Grünewald and contemporary Latin American artists, demonstrates that the centrality of an instrument of torture – the Cross – to Christianity and the perception of the suffering Christ as despised, rejected and unesteemed challenge the perceptions of beauty that we have inherited from the Victorians. In Christianity, beauty is found in the selfless love of Christ expressed most powerfully in the ugliness of crucifixion.

As a result, Christianity can find common ground with contemporary art which finds beauty in the throw-away, the ready-made, the hidden or disregarded. As just one example, American Beauty screenwriter Alan Ball uncovers heart-breaking beauty in garbage with a scene in which a plastic bag dances as it floats in the wind above a dirty sidewalk. His central character says as he views this scene that this beautiful moment made him aware of an ‘incredibly benevolent force’ behind things that wanted him to know that there is no reason to be afraid, ever.

Charles Williams suggests, in The Descent of the Dove, that the incarnation, because it is not simply about God taking on flesh but also about our humanity being taken into God, is the ultimate affirmative act. This is based on the understanding that nothing is lost and everything can be redeemed. All experience and all images are ultimately to be gathered in to God and, in this sense, the beauty found in the selfless giving of the incarnation and crucifixion really will save the world.

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The Hastings College Choir - Fairest Lord Jesus.