Those who are on the edge of our churches

Here's the sermon that I had originally planned to preach this morning at St Andrew’s Wickford:

“I’m not religious.” I wonder how many people you’ve encountered locally who use that phrase when they come into this building or learn that you go to church. It’s a phrase that I’ve heard quite frequently as I’ve been out and about locally getting to know the communities of Wickford and Runwell and those who are linked to our church communities.

Those that we encounter who use that phrase, “I’m not religious,” are among those who are on the edge of our churches. They might come to one of the groups that use our facilities or be a friend of someone who does come to our services, maybe your friend, or may just be someone in the wider community who is well disposed towards the church, but doesn’t actually attend regularly.

Jesus spent time – considerable time – with those on the edge. We learn at the beginning of today’s Gospel passage (Luke 15.1-10) that he was criticised by the Pharisees and the scribes – the religious leaders of his day, those who were at the centre of the religious community – for welcoming and eating with tax collectors and sinners.

Notice that phrase that is used about this, “the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him.” That means they weren’t near originally – they were on the edge – but they were coming near because they wanted to hear what Jesus had to say.

The tax collectors and sinners were those who were excluded from either the life of the community or the worship life in Israel in Jesus’ day. The tax collectors were collaborators with the hated Roman invaders and often exploited the people in order to make money for themselves, while those labelled here as ‘the sinners’ were a mixed group of people excluded from worship either because of behaviour that was considered immoral, such as prostitution, or because of disease, that because it couldn’t be cured and might be contagious, was considered a threat to the community.

That’s the context for the two parables of Jesus that we’re thinking about this morning – the parable of the lost sheep and the parable of the lost coin. As we’ve just thought, it’s a context that is relevant to us, as we think about those who are on the edge of church in Wickford and Runwell.

Jesus was criticised by the religious leaders of his day for drawing those on the edge to him but, in response, he told a story about leaving those at the centre to go to the edge. In the story of the lost sheep, the shepherd leaves the 99 sheep that are with him in order to seek out and find the one sheep that is on the edge and lost from the flock.

Jesus told several parables about sheep and shepherds and, in another of those parables, he tells us about the sheepfold. The sheepfold was the enclosure in which the sheep were gathered at night so they were all together and safe in one place. The shepherd would lie down across the entrance to the sheepfold and sleep there in order that his body acted as a gate preventing the sheep from leaving and preventing others from getting in. When the shepherd leaves the 99 behind in order to search for the lost sheep, the sheepfold is where he would have left the 99. So, it was not that they had been abandoned and were free to roam wherever they liked, but the shepherd in the story does care so much about the sheep that got lost that he is prepared to leave those at the centre in order to find the one that is on the edge.

The religious leaders were not prepared to do that and were even critical of Jesus for attracting those on the edge to the centre. By contrast, the parable tells us that God is concerned about all people everywhere – those already at the centre and those who are on the edge. That’s also what we see God doing himself, through Jesus. Jesus left the centre of the universe – being at the side of God the Father – in order to come to the edge by becoming human himself. He wasn’t content simply to become a human being, he was born into poverty, lived among ordinary people, went to those who were excluded, made himself the servant of others, and laid down his own life on the cross for the sake of every one of us.

That’s the example given to us by our Lord and Saviour and that’s the pattern of mission and ministry that he shares with us; all predicated on the basis of love for all people, especially those on the edge.

The stories don’t stop there, however, because Jesus also tells a story – the story of the lost coin – about something lost in a home. This is not a story about leaving the centre to go to the edge, this is a story about something being lost at the centre – in a home - and searching there until it is found. Those who are part of the community of faith and therefore at the centre of the church, inevitably have a wide range of different and sometimes challenging experiences. Many of us know something of that at present, having come through the pandemic only to now face a cost-of-living crisis. In such circumstances, some may find it difficult to maintain their church involvement and begin to drop off the radar. Jesus’ parables are encouraging us to notice such people too and to do all we can to support and encourage and maintain them in their faith and church commitment. These parables, then, are stories encouraging care for those on the edge and those at the centre, however those two spaces are defined.

In the Wickford and Runwell Team Ministry we are going to be trying several new initiatives through the Autumn that look to engage with those on the edge of our church communities. Unveiled is a Friday night arts and performance event aiming to connect with people who enjoy the arts but don’t necessarily want to come to church. Flyers are available at the back of church, please take some away with you to give the friends and family. Saturday Solace will provide 10-minute reflections on a Saturday morning for those who are shopping in Wickford Town Centre. People will be able to drop in any time between 10.00 am and 12.00 noon and be sure that a reflection will either be underway or just about to begin. Again, posters are up about this. Please do advertise it to others. Contemplative Commuters will be a group offering reflections to those commuting from Wickford Station during the week. The group will be given a reflection and prayer at the beginning of each week to use throughout the week and, hopefully, the opportunity to meet people from the church just outside the station once a week. We hope that group will begin shortly.

For those within our church community struggling at present for whatever reason we have a pastoral visitors group who, together with the clergy and LLMs, visit people in the congregation for prayer and often to take communion to them at home. We would love to know of anyone that would value receiving that ministry but, also, anyone that might be interested to join our group of pastoral visitors.

These are initiatives which are contemporary equivalents to the parables of the lost sheep and the lost coin. They are ways to connect more closely with those on the edge, whilst also offering care and support to those in our congregations and there at the centre. Please do support these initiatives and those involved in them in prayer, by your continued financial giving to the church which enables us to develop such initiatives, and by joining in with these initiatives if you are able. Do let me or any of our ministry team know if you would be interested in doing so.

Jesus came for all people everywhere – those on the edge as well as those at the centre. He has a special concern for those on the edge, being prepared to sacrifice himself in order to be with those there and rejoicing when those who have been lost are found. He calls us to have a similar care and to be involved in similar action. How will you respond to that call?

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The Innocence Mission - Christ Is My Hope.

Renewal from the edge

Here are the remarks I made today in the Annual Parochial Church Meeting for the Wickford and Runwell Team Ministry:

As I’ve only just begun my ministry here, I thought it would be helpful to say a few words about my background and experience to highlight some of the things I’ll be looking at and sharing with you in the course of my first year with you.

The first thing to say is that I haven’t always been a priest. I worked for 18 years in the Employment Service before sensing a call to ordination and retain a strong interest in the world of work as a result. Throughout my ministry I looked to make connections for others between faith and work, something that looks to me to be important here as so many who live in Wickford are commuters working in Central London.

Initially, that fact seems to be a deficit for the church, as that’s a large group of people who aren’t around to attend church during the week and who are looking to rest and relax at the weekend meaning that going to church isn’t top of their agenda. One of the lessons I’ve learnt in my time at St Martin-in-the-Fields is that beginning with deficits is never the place to start. If we begin with the problems or issues we are facing then we end up overwhelmed by those issues and can’t see a way forward. Instead, we need to begin with assets or opportunities, as those always exist, even in the most difficult of circumstances. In fact, the Bible teaches us that God seems closest to us and is encountered most deeply in time of adversity than is the case in times of comfort. The Israelites discovered that when they went into Exile. Initially, they thought they had lost everything but Exile became the place where they learnt that God was everywhere, not just in Israel, and where they drew together and returned to their scriptures.

So, we need to look at the different groups of people who make up the community in Wickford and Runwell – including children, young people, parent, elderly people and others - assume that they are, in various ways open to encountering God, and work out how, when and where such encounters might take place. Different groups of people will be able to be engaged in different ways and at different times – in other words they won’t necessarily connect with our existing services and service patterns, maybe not initially, maybe not ever. So, in order to grow, as well as maintaining and developing our existing services and congregations, we will also need to grow new congregations by drawing on the riches of our traditions, history and heritage in the Team while representing those riches in new ways and at different times. 

As one example, Great Sacred Music at St Martin-in-the-Fields is a weekday lunchtime concert that engages with people who enjoy choral music but who don’t feel comfortable in a church service. As a result, it is a concert rather than a service but one in which the underlying spirituality of the music performed is explored and explained in ways that enable to encounter something of God despite not being in a service. This is an effective bridging event drawing on the riches of Church choral music while sharing those riches in ways that enable people who wouldn’t otherwise come to church to engage.

I’m not saying that we need to replicate Great Sacred Music here. Instead, I’m saying that we will need to find our equivalents for the community here that provide a bridge to God in the way that Great Sacred Music does in central London.

Understanding and engaging with culture is also key to enabling others to encounter God. This has been another significant interest for me, particularly with the visual arts and music, but also with the Arts as a whole. Engaging with creatives locally and further afield and encouraging the creativity inherent in each of us enables the church to engage with another segment of the local community which often feels disconnected from church and enables us to create a culture of creativity that is a reflection of God, who is the most creative being in existence.

I’ve talked already about three elements of the model of mission with which I have worked throughout by ministry. It’s called the 4Cs, with the Cs being Commerce, Culture, Compassion and Congregation. We began with work, which is based on commerce and where we need to make deep connections between faith and work in order that people see how faith is lived out in the working week, not just on Sundays. Commerce is also needed as an additional source of income for churches that can’t be fully funded by benefactors or stewardship alone. I’ve already said a lot about culture, so won’t say more about that now. Compassion is a part of the 4Cs with which the churches in Wickford and Runwell already engage through support for the Foodbank and Women’s Refuge. I wonder whether there might be compassionate projects that we could, in time, initiate; remembering that care for the environment and support for families, young people and elderly folk are all also compassionate initiatives.

Congregation is the fourth element of this mission model. Supporting, sustaining and growing existing congregations is fundamental but is not an end in and of itself. If inwardly focused, existing congregations dwindle. If outwardly focused, seeking to support and grow new congregations using the other 3Cs, that’s when congregations grow. When congregations do this, it puts church at the heart of the community whilst also being with those who are on the edge. The edge may be the edge of church or the edge of society or the creative cutting edge (which might be found in commerce or culture).

Renewal comes from the edge. Those who are currently outside our congregations are those who have the greatest potential to renew us. That is because the Holy Spirit is always at work in the world and our wider community. We often don’t recognize what God is already doing in and through others because we think God is with us and we are those who have to share God with others. It’s freeing to turn that thinking on its head and realise that our calling is often to recognize and name what God is already doing in and through others, while getting involved to support those initiatives and help others see that what they are doing is of God.

This is a brief summary of some of what I have learnt about mission and ministry from nineteen years of ordained ministry. I hope it gives some ideas and frameworks that we can explore more fully over the months ahead. I look forward to hearing your thoughts and ideas as we seek to learn from each other and share together in being God’s people engaged in God’s mission here in Wickford and Runwell.

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It Is A Thing Most Wonderful.

Have the lights come on?

Here's the sermon I preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields this morning:

Light-bulb moments are those occasions when the penny drops, everything clicks into place and understanding comes. It might be in relation to something which is puzzling us; a piece of work about which we were unsure, a puzzle or conundrum to be resolved. In relationships it could be when one person appreciates something about another for the first time or when a disagreement is resolved.

These light-bulb moments have a name. They are called epiphanies and they tend to creep up on us unexpectedly. We may have been puzzling over something for hours, then the answer hits us. We may wake up in the middle of the night because something in a dream has clicked or else something someone says triggers a chain of thoughts in our mind that results in a moment of revelation. It all makes sense. We can’t choose the moment this happens, but we can perhaps create the right environment to encourage it to happen.

Epiphanies are less likely to happen when we’re stressed, when we’re tormented by trying to find the answer to something, when we can’t focus on anything else. Sometimes that means we need to find peace and quiet, maybe by going for a walk or reading a book. Some people find there’s nothing better than having a shower or a relaxing bath. At other times it’s better to fill our minds with something totally different from the issue, maybe doing a Sudoku puzzle or watching a favourite TV programme. Then, out of nowhere, revelation comes.

One of those approaches I’ve described might work for you, too, but there may be others. It might simply be a case of going on to the next question in a test and going back later to what’s been puzzling you. It could be that music works its magic or merely closing your eyes and blanking your mind in meditation for a minute or two.

The 6 January is celebrated in the Christian church as the feast of Epiphany. As the word ‘epiphany’ means a light-bulb moment, the feast of the Epiphany is an opportunity for revelation about who Jesus was and is. Having appreciated the Christmas story of God sending Jesus to be born as a human being, the feast of the Epiphany is the day to see the implications of all that God has done in that act. Using the story of the Magi – the wise men who came to see Jesus – we remind ourselves of the symbolism attached to who they were and the gifts they brought, gold, frankincense and myrrh.

These visitors from the East came looking for Jesus in a palace but found him in a manger. The Magi looked for him at the heart of privileges won through personal power but actually found him in a place of poverty and dispossession. They went to a palace, to the seat of wealth and power but he was not to be found there. Instead, he was found in obscurity, in the home of working people, in a place from which no good was known to come. The visitors from the East looked for a King according to their understanding of kingship but only found Jesus when they left that understanding of political power and rule behind to encounter a King whose every breath is service of his subjects. The Empire then struck back as, in a bid to protect his power-base, Herod sent his death squads to massacre all male children under two in Bethlehem forcing Mary, Joseph and Jesus to become refugees, settling in Egypt until Herod himself was dead.

Jesus was vulnerable in this way because he was on the edge, at the margins of society. The poet-priest Malcolm Guite put it like this:

‘Christmas sets the centre on the edge;
The edge of town, the outhouse of the inn,
The fringe of empire, far from privilege
And power, on the edge and outer spin
Of turning worlds, a margin of small stars
That edge, a galaxy itself, light years
From some unguessed at cosmic origin.’

The edge is the place where those who have been excluded or rejected or ignored by society or the Church are to be found. That Jesus is found there – is born there - speaks of the conviction that God’s heart is on the edge of human society. Not only so, but, also, that God is most evidently encountered among those in the margins and on the edge. Those on the edge are Christ to us; Jesus is seen in those who have been excluded or rejected or ignored by society or the Church. The edge is where we can receive all the gifts God is giving us, especially the ones that Church and society have for so long despised or patronised. Those who have been rejected are the energy and the life-force that will transform us all. The life of those with power within church and society is, as Sam Wells has said, ‘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.’

The Magi have often represented as rulers of each of the major parts of the world known at the time, Europe, Asia and Africa, emphasising the global reach of the Christian religion. The Magi’s visit is often called the Gentile Christmas; the overriding message being that learned, wise foreigners - the ultimate ‘outsiders’ for Matthew’s Jewish-Christian audience - came to pay homage to a new-born ruler, Jesus the Christ, whose spiritual power and wisdom surpassed their own. Isaiah tells of nations coming to the light of the one that we know as the Christ-child, and through his imagery we can picture all people of all nations drawn to a Christ who knew oppression on all levels. As we have reflected, Christ was born under the oppression of Roman rule, escaped genocide by becoming a refugee and lived, as a migrant, in another country.

Both the incarnation and the ‘Gentile Christmas’ reveal that God’s heart is on the edge of human society, with those who have been excluded or rejected or ignored; that God is most evidently encountered among those in the margins and on the edge. Those who have been rejected are seen to be the energy and the life-force that will transform us all. The life of the church is therefore, as we have noted, to be one of 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.

In Jesus all things are re-aligned. Through his birth, life, death, and resurrection all that we once thought marginal to human life – all that we have rejected - has been shown to be essential: the way of compassion rather than the way of domination; the way of self-sacrifice rather than the way of self; the way of powerlessness rather than the way of power; the way of serving rather than the way of grasping. That’s the big picture revelation of the Epiphany. Considering the gifts that the Magi brought then gives us a close-up revelation about the nature of the Christ-child.

Gold, the most precious metal, was a present for an important person, so gold signifies that Jesus comes as a person of power, a king, a ruler. But we can also think that Jesus comes to give something precious to others – himself, his own life. So, gold was a gift that said: ‘Jesus is a King who will bring love!’

Frankincense and myrrh were both very expensive perfumes made from the resin of trees. People burned frankincense in religious ceremonies. They believed the fragrance carried their prayers to heaven. By its use in worship frankincense shows that Jesus comes as a holy person, someone who is totally pure, who has no wrong side to him. So, frankincense was a gift that said: ‘Jesus will draw us close to God and bring joy.’

Myrrh was used in ointments to heal sore skin and wounds. It was even used in this way to reduce wrinkles on dead bodies. Jesus would later be offered wine mingled with myrrh as a pain killer at the crucifixion. Myrrh indicates that Jesus will one day die a significant death and that he heals. So, myrrh was a gift that said: ‘Jesus will heal divisions through his death and bring peace.’

Historically, the Magi may have been envoys from the Nabatean King Aretas IV to King Herod, sent after the wise men of Aretas’ court announced that they had discerned from the stars that a new King of the Jews was to be born and bringing with them gifts that were not only rich and regal, but also representative of the wealth and power of Aretas’ Nabatean kingdom. If that were so, what they found when they arrived in Jerusalem was a surprise and an epiphany to them. The new king was not Herod’s son and was not in Jerusalem. As they travelled on to Bethlehem, a place on the edge of power, wealth, prestige and significance, their gifts, which had been designed to confirm those very things, took on new significance and became symbolic of a king who would renounce power, wealth, prestige and embrace poverty, obscurity, and death.

This is how epiphanies always come. By its nature, revelation is always outside our current frame of reference, being something that we don’t already know. So, epiphanies are always unexpected and surprising. However, there are ways in which we can prepare our hearts and minds to receive them. We see that in the story too, because, if the Magi had not set out on their journey and been prepared to travel beyond Jerusalem to the place on the edge, their epiphany would not have come.

It is because they were willing to travel that, for us, the Feast of the Epiphany reveals Jesus as the hope of the world by his ‘epiphany’ or ‘showing forth’ to the Magi from distant lands. The Magi travelled to find a king. The king they found was born into poverty rather than riches, was not a powermonger but a dependent child, would not accumulate power, wealth, or position for himself but instead be the servant of all, and would not save his life rather would die to save others.

In the words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the Christ child in the manger ‘pushes back the high and mighty; he overturns the thrones of the powerful; he humbles the haughty; his arm exercises power over all the high and mighty; he lifts what is lowly, and makes it great and glorious in his mercy.’ Because God is in the manger, ‘God is near to lowliness’ and ‘loves the lost, the neglected, the unseemly, the excluded, the weak and broken.’ That is the unrecognized mystery of this world: Jesus Christ as God with us. It is a redemptive mystery ‘because God became poor, low, lowly, and weak out of love for humankind, because God became a human being like us, so that we would become divine, and because he came to us so that we would come to him’.

At Epiphany, we have the opportunity to re-experience that original epiphany, to try to understand again all that Jesus is and all he does for us. We are offered the opportunity to make sure the penny has dropped, the light has come on, that faith has clicked into place, and relationship with Jesus begun. Epiphany is a time to connect or re-connect with Jesus on the basis of that original revelation. So, I ask, have the lights come on for you?

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Brightest And Best Of The Sons Of The Morning.

A journey to the edge

Here's the sermon I preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields this morning:  

‘There was a star in the east.
Magi in their turbans brought their luxury toys
in homage to a child born to capsize their values,
wreck their equipoise.
A smell of hay like peace in the dark stable,
not peace however but a sword
to cut the gordian knot of self-interest,
the fool-proof golden cord,
for Christ walked in where philosophers tread
but armed with more than folly
making the smooth place rough
and knocking the heads of church and state together.’

Poets and musicians often understand the ironies of Christmas - the incomprehensible comprehended, poetry made hard fact, the helpless Babe who cracks the world asunder - better than the Church. This extract from Louis MacNeice’s ‘Autumn Journal’ continues:

‘In honour we have taken over the pagan feast of saturnalia
for our annual treat,
letting the belly have its say,
ignoring the spirit whilst we eat.’

MacNeice identifies the journey of the Magi as the point in the nativity story when many of these ironies become particularly apparent. Visitors from the East came looking for Jesus in a palace but found him in a manger. The Magi looked for him at the heart of privileges won through personal power but actually found him in a place of poverty and dispossession. They went to a palace, to the seat of wealth and power but he was not to be found there. Instead he was found in obscurity, in the home of working people, in a place from which no good was known to come. The visitors from the East looked for a King according to their understanding of kingship but only found Jesus when they left that understanding of political power and rule behind to encounter a King whose every breath is service of his subjects. The Empire then struck back as, in a bid to protect their power-base, the men of power with their death squads spread their curse of appalling cruelty and wickedness across the world. Herod, threatened by the thought of a rival, sent his death squads to massacre all male children under two in Bethlehem forcing Mary, Joseph and Jesus to become refugees, settling in Egypt until Herod himself was dead.

Jesus was vulnerable in this way because he was on the edge, at the margins of society. The poet-priest Malcolm Guite put it like this:

‘Christmas sets the centre on the edge;
The edge of town, the outhouse of the inn,
The fringe of empire, far from privilege
And power, on the edge and outer spin
Of turning worlds, a margin of small stars
That edge, a galaxy itself, light years
From some unguessed at cosmic origin.’

The edge is the place where those who have been excluded or rejected or ignored by society or the Church are to be found. That Jesus is found there – is born there - speaks of the conviction that God’s heart is on the edge of human society. Not only so, but, also, that God is most evidently encountered among those in the margins and on the edge. Those on the edge are Christ to us; Jesus is seen in those who have been excluded or rejected or ignored by society or the Church. The edge is where we can receive all the gifts God is giving us, especially the ones that Church and society have for so long despised or patronised. Those who have been rejected are the energy and the life-force that will transform us all. The life of those with power within church and society is, as Sam Wells has said, ‘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.’

Our depictions of the arrival of the Magi are one example, among many, of the way in which rejection of others is built into our telling of the Christmas story. This week the National Gallery hopes to open its re-arranged immersive digital experience inspired by Jan Gossaert's 16th-century masterpiece ‘The Adoration of the Kings’. This experience begins with the African king Balthasar’s voice setting the scene for the journey into this painting. Balthasar is one of the three Kings who travelled to Bethlehem to visit the new-born Jesus bringing gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. He is Black, reflecting the resurgence by around 1500 of a tradition - dating back to the early days of Christianity - of including an African king. The Three Kings were often represented as rulers of each of the major parts of the world known at the time, Europe, Asia and Africa, emphasising the global reach of the Christian religion. We don’t know the exact reason for the resurgence of this tradition, but it is likely that a significant factor was the growing presence of Black people in Europe at that time, most of whom were enslaved.

Balthasar, this black Magus figure in the Nativity scene, was part of theologian Robert Beckford’s upbringing: ‘As a child,’ he has said, ‘the nativity scene always excited me. Not just because its appearance meant the closeness of Christmas presents, but because of the return of the black Magus.’ Yet he has come to realise that Balthasar has been inserted into the story because the story itself has been given an entirely white European perspective. That perspective reverses and rejects its original significance, but has become the default understanding. So, in Gossaert's painting and most images of this story from the medieval period onwards, we have a white European Christ-child and his mother being visited a black man rather than the reverse which is actually more historically accurate.

Before Christmas, on the BBC World Service in a programme entitled ‘Black Jesus’, Beckford explored the impact Black Theology has had in raising awareness of these rejections, the implications for the church and whether seeing Jesus as black is having a revival due to the influence of black lives matter. In the programme this realisation came home most forcefully when Chine McDonald said, ‘When I pray I see a white man – that’s problematic’. It’s problematic because, as Beckford noted in the programme, ‘Jesus is a man of colour from the ancient near east’; an olive skinned Palestinian, not a blonde European.

If Jesus was a darker skinned Palestinian rather than a blonde European, we need to ask, as Beckford does, if ‘Jesus is a man of colour from the ancient near east’, how then ‘did we make him an Aryan and use that image to oppress other people?’ ‘Faith doesn’t stand outside politics,’ Beckford notes, ‘In fact it is a political move to separate the two.’ The problematic nature of this can be seen in the reality that, even today, a black woman like Chine McDonald still pictures a white man when she prays, even though this is a reverse of the image of God found in Jesus. We need those like Beckford and McDonald in order to return to a more historically accurate and theologically important picture and understanding of the Magi’s visitation.

The Magi’s visit is often called the Gentile Christmas; the overriding message being that learned, wise foreigners -- the ultimate "outsiders" for Matthew’s Jewish-Christian audience -- came to pay homage to a new-born ruler, Jesus the Christ, whose spiritual power and wisdom surpassed their own. This is an appropriate interpretation of the story and Matthew’s intent, but, as we have seen, is one which we have come to picture in a way that is opposite to that which Matthew intended. As a result of the power of Medieval and Renaissance images and interpretations we see a white Christ-child visited by a black King. 

When Isaiah tells of nations coming to the light of the one that we know as the Christ-child, we can picture all people of all nations drawn to a Christ who knew oppression on all levels. Christ was born under the oppression of Roman rule, escaped genocide by becoming a refugee and lived, as a migrant, in another country. All this is obscured if we then picture Christ as being one with the white European oppressors; but a Christ who, through his black identity, is seen to be one with the oppressed enables Christianity to be seen for what it originally and genuinely was, a religion of liberation - a religion of those on the edge.

The incarnation and this ‘Gentile Christmas’ reveal that God’s heart is on the edge of human society, with those who have been excluded or rejected or ignored; that God is most evidently encountered among those in the margins and on the edge. Those who have been rejected are seen to be the energy and the life-force that will transform us all. The life of the church is therefore, as we have noted, to be one of 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.

Gossaert's ‘Adoration of the Kings’ doesn’t return us to the heart of what was rejected. The National Gallery’s 'Sensing the Unseen: Step into Gossaert’s ‘Adoration’’ experience helps us identify the problem but doesn’t quite return us there either. It is only with Beckford’s ‘Black Jesus’ that we are returned to an inclusive group of Magi visiting a black Christ and the full revelation that God is most evidently encountered among those on the edge.

Malcolm Guite writes:

Christmas sets the centre at the edge.
And from this day our world is re-aligned
A tiny seed unfolding in the womb
Becomes the source from which we all unfold
And flower into being. We are healed, 

The end begins, the tomb becomes a womb,
For now in him all things are re-aligned.

In him all things are re-aligned. Through Jesus’ birth, life, death and resurrection all that we once thought marginal to human life – all that we have rejected - has been shown to be essential: the way of compassion rather than the way of domination; the way of self-sacrifice rather than the way of self; the way of powerlessness rather than the way of power; the way of serving rather than the way of grasping.

Together with Robert Beckford and Chine McDonald, we would do well to rediscover all that is on the edge and which has been rejected. If we do so, we will be joining with the Magi - the wise ones - in their experience of adoring the black Jesus. Let’s wait a while there; after all, it’s been quite a journey for us to arrive at that place.

For another sermon exploring our need for images of black Christ's click here.

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Galliano - Prince Of Peace.

Christ the King – Renewal from the edge

Here's my sermon for Christ the King preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields this morning: 

Like many parents, Christine and I couldn’t bear to get rid of the toys and books that our daughters had enjoyed as children. We stored them in the attic and they moved with us as we have gone from curatage to vicarage and back to our own home. We recently brought them down from the attic for our eldest grandson. The book that Joshua loved most from our collection is called ‘Puzzle Mountain’, a book which, like the better known ‘Where’s Wally?’, has characters and objects to find on each of its busy pages. The story is about a journey to the top of Puzzle Mountain to protect a rare flower but the story is only a part of the book’s interest. What Joshua particularly loved was to find the hidden characters on each page. In other words, he loved answering the question of where those characters were at each stage of the story.

The parable of the sheep and the goats (Matthew 25.31-46) asks us to reflect on the question of where Jesus is in this story. The story begins with Jesus at the centre in the position of power, authority, majesty and judgement. It is the end of time with the Son of Man coming in all his glory to sit on the throne of his glory and separate all the people of all the nations, one from another. It’s a centralised image with power and judgement centred in and dispensed by one person. As such, it’s a traditional image of monarchical, political, judicial or hierarchical power.

Yet, although this is where the story begins, it is not where the centre of the story actually resides. There is a redefining of the centre and the margins, the heart and the edge, that is the challenge which is at the heart of this parable. The judgement made within the story is one made on the basis of the extent to which people have been with those on the edge; those who are hungry, thirsty, strangers, naked, sick or imprisoned. This is about compassion – bringing food and water, welcoming, clothing, caring and visiting – but is not simply about gestures of humility and service towards others. As in the story of St Martin, our patron saint, sharing his cloak with a beggar and then, in a dream, realising that the beggar was Christ; the deeper insight of this parable is that we encounter Jesus in those on the edge. They are Christ to us and we need to be on the margins ourselves because that is where Christ is to be found most fully.

This story is, therefore, a retelling of the story of incarnation; of Christ giving up equality with God to become a human being who suffers and dies for the sake of all. It is also a retelling of the story that the Bible, as a whole, tells. The Old Testament has a core narrative which associates God with the powers that structure, order and rule society; a story with Judges and Kings that for many today is viewed as patriarchal and oppressive; meaning it is unlike the kingdom that Jesus later revealed. However, the core narrative in scripture is subverted by a counter narrative in which God hears the voices of those who are victims and is found with the oppressed in order that they can journey from oppression to freedom. These two narratives may actually be two different ways to interpret the story told in the Old Testament. The question as to which is the correct reading remains open until Jesus comes to be the fullest revelation of the nature of God that can be seen in human form. These narratives, therefore, culminate in the story of the incarnation in which God becomes the ultimate scapegoat sent out from the centre into the margins carrying the sins of all for the sake of all.

This parable, the incarnation and the salvation history found in the Bible all ask the question of where is God to be found. They turn our expectations upside down by saying that God is seen most clearly among those on the edge. This is how we have come to understand our mission and ministry at St Martin’s and is what we have sought to share more widely through HeartEdge. We have said that, 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 we have 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.

This parable, the incarnation and the salvation history found in the Bible take us further still as they turn our traditional understandings of heart and edge upside down and reveal that it is from the edge that the centre or heart is renewed. Our traditional expectation in society and, often, within the Church are that leadership, power and direction all come from the centre - the heart - of a society or nation or organisation or church. Our expectation has been that those on the edge need to be drawn into an exalted centre where they will also in time be exalted.

That is the basis for much charitable endeavour, particularly the charitable endeavours of the wealthy or powerful. It is also the basis of the flawed trickle-down theory of economics which argues that centralised wealth eventually trickles down to empower those who are poorest and furthest from the centres of wealth or power. Whether we think in terms of charity, economics, education or evangelism, these are instrumental approaches in which those at the centre possess what those at the edge need and benignly bestow their largesse on others, always in limited measure. They are approaches based on patronage rather than empowerment.

These stories turn that kind of thinking on its head. The defining characteristic in these stories is that of being on the edge with those who are hungry, thirsty, naked or imprisoned. God is seen in those on the edge therefore the edge is now where the heart of God is fully revealed. The edge is where God is fully seen and can be encountered meaning that the edge is now the place from which renewal can come.

Left to their own devices those at the heart with power and influence accumulate more power and influence centrally. To fully reflect Christ's characteristics of service and sacrifice we need to understand that the edge and the heart have become one. It is only as power and influence is devolved from the centre to the margins that society reflects the rule of Christ by reflecting the characteristics of Christ in letting go of power and serving others.

Christ divested himself of power, influence, authority and prestige when choosing to be born as a human being in relative poverty and obscurity in Bethlehem. Christ moved into our neighbourhood bringing the human and divine together, bringing the heart to the edge, and thereby renewing the Godhead by bringing our humanity into the heart of the Trinity, so that we become one. As our reading from Ephesians puts it, we become the body of the one whose fullness fills all in all.

As a result, those who are at the centre – however defined - are called to divest themselves of power in order to be with those on the edge. We have an example of this occurring within HeartEdge. Azariah France-Williams, who leads the HeartEdge Hub church for Manchester, wrote his book ‘Ghost Ship’ about institutional racism in the Church of England because his experience and that of other black clergy was of those with white privilege in the Church using that privilege to disempower black clergy. In his experience those with white privilege have not divested themselves of power or devolved that power to the margins of the church where most black clergy are currently to be found. Azariah says that his experience in HeartEdge has been different; one of being trusted to lead and of receiving support in enabling his voice to be heard through the HeartEdge programme.

So, like Joshua looking for the hidden characters in ‘Puzzle Mountain’, we need to be those who ask where Christ is in our world. This parable pictures Christ as being in the centre and on the edge – the fullness of the one who fills all, as our reading from Ephesians put it – but the parable is clear that being on the edge is what defines Christ and should also define us, as his followers. This parable, similarly, challenges us to go to the margins and to live on the edge if we are truly to find Christ and be found with Christ in the renewal of church, society and God that he promises and towards which he leads us. 

That means we do something that Joshua and I can’t do with ‘Puzzle Mountain’, which is to enter the story ourselves. This parable is a story we can enter, making the question posed in the parable not just where is Christ, but also where are we. When we see Jesus on the throne of judgement, that is the only one question he will have for us: “Where have you been?”

View this sermon and the full service at https://www.facebook.com/stmartininthefields/videos/379469153291742.

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Forth In The Peace Of Christ We Go.

Church Times: Elizabeth Kwant - Am I not a woman and sister

My latest review for Church Times is of Elizabeth Kwant's Am I not a woman and sister at the International Slavery Museum Liverpool:

'This is an experience of being with those on the edge, an opportunity to see those who have been commodified and traded as they really are, women and sisters. Kwant’s work opens up a space in which empowerment occurs, hidden experiences are brought to light, and wider narratives (concerning the construction of identity and the recording of history) are brought into question.'

Other of my pieces for Church Times can be found here.

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Robert Randolph and the Family Band - I Need More Love.

HeartEdge Mailer | October 2019

HeartEdge is an international ecumenical movement.

• We are churches and other organisations growing commercial and cultural activity, compassionate response to need and congregational life.
• We are sharing, connecting, finding support and developing, at the heart and on the edge.
• Churches join, identify gaps in their resource and find new ways of being.
• We focus on 4 areas - commercial activity, congregations, cultural engagement and compassion.

Join us! Details here.

Each month we collect and email stories and ideas, related to our focus: commercial activity, congregations, cultural engagement and compassion. Useful, inspiring, practical - it's a resource.

This month:

• Ken Robinson on compassion, Miranda Threlfall-Holmes on St Margaret of Antioch, Katherine Venn on direct action and Brian McLaren on preaching.
• Putting a community shop and Post Office in your church, tips on using video and setting up a music venue, and art when no-one is watching.
• Winter night shelters, Russell Brand plus the Beyoncé Mass.
• Plus Jonathan Evens updates on the development of HeartEdge.

Read the October Mailer here.

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Brittany Howard - 13th Century Metal.

Church Times review - Che si può fare: Max Mara Art Prize for Women: Helen Cammock

My latest review for Church Times is of “Che si può fare: Max Mara Art Prize for Women: Helen Cammock”, which is in Gallery 2 at the Whitechapel Gallery:

'A response to the contemporary political situation in Italy, Che si può fare, like much of Cammock’s work, consistently addresses the complexities of our geopolitics ... The Long Note, for which she received her Turner Prize nomination, also brings women’s distinctive and diverse voices and perspectives to the fore, while Shouting in Whispers, exhibited alongside The Long Note, traverses the history of conflict from the period of the Vietnam War to the present day. All these works reveal Cammock’s ability to relay universal struggles and give a voice to the voiceless ...

Cammock, whose path to art and current success has been winding, is not among the entitled. Her focus is on others: she thrives and feels alive when meeting people — and hearing their voices. What is to be done? For Cammock, it is to hear the hidden voices of those on the edge.'

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Barbara Strozzi - Che Si Può Fare.

At the Heart. On the Edge.

This year at St Martin-in-the-Fields we've invited our congregation to write pages for our #Advent2016 booklet. Each day a new reading, reflection and prayer on the theme, “At the Heart. On the Edge.”, will be posted on our twitter account and facebook page.

Today read Sam Wells's reflection - "We want to be where God is, and God's on the edge, so we want to be there too."

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The Advent Of Our King.