The Reverend David Gamble, 20th September 2009

Covenant Renewal Service, 10.30 Sunday 20 September 2009

The Reverend David Gamble, President of the Methodist Conference

Let me first say what a delight and privilege it is to share this service with you today. I’ve brought you a present.

It’s a candle, in a presentation bag. It’s a candle from this year’s Methodist Conference, which was in Wolverhampton. It has on it the Wolverhampton cross of nails. It’s become a sort of tradition, for what Methodists might call connecting the connexion. Wherever the Vice-President and I travel and lead worship, during this year, we are taking one of these candles. So we have already taken candles like this to London, Leeds, County Durham, and to various town and cities in Scotland, and Shetland. We’ve taken them to Wesley’s Chapel and Westminster Central Hall. Currently the Vice-President is in Chile. And I’m in Milton Keynes and am delighted to bring a candle for you. Last Monday I was officially opening the new offices of Methodist Insurance Company, so I took them one – but I don’t think they’ll be taking it out of its presentation bag and light it. Too risky. May keep it in a bucket of water!

Today is a special Sunday in various ways. Of course, it’s particularly special here in Christ the Cornerstone, because it’s the Sunday of your annual Covenant Renewal. But, in the wider church, it’s also the Sunday designated as ‘Peacemaking Sunday’. And in the lectionary which many churches use today, this Sunday has the snappy title of the twenty-fifth Sunday in ordinary time. Our Old and New Testament readings are the readings for that Sunday. And I’m hoping this sermon might make a few links between these three different things – well, actually, I know it will because I wrote it.

So, let’s go straight to today’s gospel reading, which was from Mark 9, 30-37. Jesus and the disciples are on the way to Jerusalem. The disciples already know that Jesus is someone very special. They’re even thinking he might be the Messiah. But Jesus has made it quite clear that if he is the Messiah, he’s not going to be the kind of Messiah they were hoping for and expecting. At every opportunity, Jesus tries to explain what kind of Messiah he is. Not a strong, violent, warlike, powerful, ruling one coming to smash the Romans and throw them out of the country and establish his own military government. But a loving, caring, vulnerable, even suffering and dying one. But the disciples don’t really get it. And they’re confused and sometimes argumentative. And so, in the second part of the passage we heard this morning, it turns out they’ve been arguing over who is the greatest between them. The most important. Who’s the best, maybe. Who is the greatest?

Who is the greatest? And Mark probably included the story in his gospel because it wasn’t just those first disciples of Jesus who argued about it. The problem kept coming up. One of the most memorable images in several of St Paul’s letters is that of the church as the body of Christ. But he didn’t just invent it because he knew that in centuries to come it would make the basis for a good children’s address. He used it because people in the early church kept arguing about who was the greatest, the most important. So Paul says, ‘Look. Think of a body. It’s made up of lots of different parts. And it needs all those different parts and it needs them to be different or it wouldn’t work as a body. The parts are different – not better or worse, greater or lesser. Simply different. Apostles, teachers, preachers, administrators, pastoral workers – all important. All different. None greater than others. All essential.

So, back to Mark’s story. Here’s Jesus, faced with his followers arguing about who is the greatest. So, what does Jesus do or say? Well, first Mark says Jesus tells his disciples that ‘whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.’ Then Mark says Jesus picks up a little child, holds the child in his arms, and says ‘Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.’ To be honest, as you read this it’s a rather strange answer to the question. Indeed, it isn’t really an answer to the question about who is the greatest. There were several sayings of Jesus about little children around for Mark and the other gospel writers to choose from. In his version of this story, Matthew chooses one that fits much better (Matt.18.4) ‘Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’ Who is the greatest? Whoever becomes humble, like a child.

But in Mark the argument about who is the greatest finishes with Jesus talking about receiving, welcoming, accepting children. And he says that anyone who welcomes a child welcomes him – and not just him, but the one who sent him. So, how you respond to a small child is how you respond to God. And I suppose I read Mark as saying something like this. I’m not going to help you answer the question of who is the greatest, because it’s the wrong question. God’s way, the Jesus way, is not about squabbles over power and people setting themselves up as the most important, the best, the greatest. Just the opposite. God’s way is about caring for the smallest, the weakest, the least powerful, the most vulnerable. It’s a totally different way. Pointing to a totally different kind of world if people took it seriously.

A totally different kind of world. Things could be so different!

And our reading from the Hebrew Scripture, Psalm 1, suggests there are 2 different ways – the way the world usually seems to operate, with people after the best for themselves and not too worried about how others are doing, and the way of those whose delight is in God. A totally different kind of world.

Things could be different – lots. And by drawing attention to the little child, Jesus points to how different the world would and could be. If only......

I said earlier that, as well as being your Covenant Renewal Sunday, today – September 20th - has been designated as Peacemaking Sunday. It links with tomorrow, September 21st, which since 1982 has been the United Nations’ International Day of Peace. And, because it’s important for Christians as individuals and as churches to align themselves with those who care about the same things, more recently the nearest Sunday to September 21st has been named Peacemaking Sunday. Why the title ‘Peacemaking’ Sunday, rather than, say, just Peace Sunday. Peacemaking Sunday.

And I guess the answer is because peace is something you have to work at. It doesn’t just happen. In the beatitudes, that purple passage at the beginning of his sermon on the mount (Matthew 5), Jesus says ‘Blessed are the peacemakers.’ Not ‘Blessed are those who think peace might be quite a nice thing sometime.’ But ‘Blessed are the peacemakers’. The people who work to make peace come about. Peace doesn’t just happen. It has to be worked for.

When I was a child at Sunday School, we were told of a game played by Hebrew children as they were taught their scriptures. This was before football was invented. The game was that you had to try to find a text from the scriptures that began and ended with the same letters that your name began and ended with. Like a harder version of ‘I spy’. So, if your name was Fred you looked for a line of scripture that began with F and ended in D. Psalm 14, verse 1: ‘Fools say in their hearts there is no God.’ Ben. B. N. Psalm 137, verse 1. ‘By the rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion.’ Ingrid. I. D. John 1.1 ‘In the beginning was the word’ – it’s quite catching. You might like to try it. Anyway, my name is David. And after some research I came up with my verse as Psalm 34, verse14. ‘Depart from evil and do good.’ I’ve remembered it ever since. But actually, that verse has a second half. ‘Depart from evil and do good. Seek peace and pursue it!’ Peace doesn’t just happen. People have to pursue it, actively to seek it, to try to bring it about, to make it. Peacemakers.

And in how many parts of the world today do we need peacemakers? People who believe that the world could be different. In Iraq. In Afghanistan. In Palestine. In Somalia. People who don’t squabble over power. Who don’t argue over who is the greatest, and seek top p[rove they are, but who accept and welcome and receive and care about the little ones. The powerless ones. The hurting ones. The vulnerable ones. Things could be different.

At the beginning of last week, having delivered my candle to Methodist Insurance, I went on to Liverpool. To the TUC Conference. I heard the anger of people who fear their jobs are going to be cut. And of people who have no jobs, and whose fathers had no job, and whose grandfathers had no jobs. I heard the wrath of postal workers describing their working conditions and what they get paid and then asking how could it be justified that the head of the Post Office gets paid 175 times more than they do.

I heard Gordon Brown trying to respond to the questions the union representatives had. To their concerns and the things that made them angry. Tomorrow I go to Bournemouth to hear the Liberal Democrats setting out their stall for a general election that is bound to happen by next summer. And in the next two weeks there will be the Labour Party and Conservative Party Conferences (unfortunately I shall miss them, as I’m going to India and Sri Lanka). But over the coming months we’ll be faced with the struggle for power. Who is the greatest? Who is most able to govern? Who’ll get the most votes?

And I wonder what alternative societies we shall be offered. Is there an alternative enough alternative? Where will the little ones, the powerless ones, the hurting ones, the marginalised ones feature in what we are asked to vote for? Will we be shown that things could really be different?

One of the roles of Christian people and people of faith; one of the roles of faith communities, is to place a question mark against how things are happening in the wider world. And I hope we shall become involved as the election approaches – and maybe go to meetings and write letters and keep ourselves well informed. But maybe it’s not just about asking questions in words – though that is important. Maybe part of what we do is to model the alternative. Not just to ask why things can’t be different, but to show that they can.

Which is at least one reason why this Church and what it seeks to demonstrate is so very important. Because just as it was with the first followers of Jesus, and just as it was in the early church, so it has been through history. Christians and their churches sometimes fall out, and argue over which church is more important and which church has the right answers. And this church, Christ the Cornerstone, has committed itself to a different way. It has said ‘Things could be different’. The people here have committed themselves to a covenant in which you work together not against each other or in competition. Rather, the opposite. As you renew your covenant later in this service you will say that you commit yourselves – again -

To work together in love
To pray and care for one another and for our neighbour
To serve together the community based in the City Centre
And to live together in fellowship
To the greater glory of God.

And it is a privilege for me to share in this renewing of your covenant. A commitment to things being different in this church. A prophetic statement that things can be different. A sign of God’s kingdom.

Things really could be different.

The Kingdom - RS Thomas

It’s a long way off but inside it
There are quite different things going on:
Festivals at which the poor man
Is king and the consumptive is
Healed; mirrors in which the blind look
At themselves and love looks at them
Back: and industry is for mending
The bent bones and the minds fractured
By life. It’s a long way off, but to get
There takes no time and admission
Is free, if you will purge yourself
Of desire, and present yourself with
Your need only and the simple offering
Of your faith, green as a leaf.