Praying for Peace

Sermon by Hilary Webb 18th August 2013

I take my text for this morning from the epistle to the Hebrews 12:1

"With this great crowd of witnesses around us"

Over the past two months we have shared together our stories of ‘Welcome and Hospitality’ and ‘Relationships and Family’ in our ‘Knowing me, Knowing you’ conversations. We are not being specifically invited to continue these conversations today at the barbeque; but if we were then we could do no worse than to share stories of our own faith journey or stories of those special people whose faith has inspired or strengthened us. The writer of the letter to the Hebrews knew the importance of recalling the stories of those witnesses of faith, those people who continue the story of God’s kingdom here and now.

I wonder. What would your story be? Whose story would you tell?

What would OUR story be? The story of the community gathered here at Christ the Cornerstone witnessing to the love of God for the people of Milton Keynes?

Peter, who has been working in the archives gathering the history from the early days of a vision for a Church building and community here in Central Milton Keynes, would be able to tell us, I am told, many stories. Others would tell something different.

I have had the privilege over the past few weeks of looking for the story of one aspect of our worship here, Friday lunchtime Prayers for Peace. I have asked about the history of Prayers for Peace and what the service means for those who attend now. On the display board you can see the ‘work in progress’ and I do hope you will take the time to look at the display and feedback your comments to me. This is an interactive process, a theological reflection informing us about one aspect of our life together.

You may ask why I am doing this activity. During conversations in the early part of the year the worship committee realised that we were not really sure what was happening at Prayers for Peace and whether it was still valued and relevant as part of our weekday worship. I then attended a course in Oxford and learnt about a framework within which I could explore such questions and so I began, putting learning into practice and learning more as I did so.

I asked about the history of Friday Prayers for Peace and discovered that this service has been happening since before the library days. Meeting for a time of prayer for the peace of the world every week was so important to the pioneers of the ecumenical movement in Milton Keynes that it was established from the outset of a church community in Central Milton Keynes. Our current service continues to build on this early witness.

I considered the practice of praying for peace and was reminded of the service held every Friday in Coventry Cathedral since the late 1940’s I believe, reading the litany of reconciliation. I discovered that a central tenet of most religions is that of seeking peace and praying for peace. Books containing Prayers for Peace gather together writings from all over the world and right across the religious traditions. Here are a whole crowd of witnesses with whom we join our voices week by week.

That is where I started my exploration but as WE started, that is those involved in Prayers for Peace, we found so much as we shared what we liked about meeting together to pray, why we thought it was important and what in the Bible or Tradition encouraged us to continue to meet together to pray. We found our voice.

A voice which says that Prayers for Peace is important; it is 30 minutes available each week for anyone in the city and attended by Christians from all over the city. It is 30 minutes of calm in the busyness of the day. 30 minutes to think about the world, to share the concerns on our hearts for people and places that matter to us. It is a place where those who attend found care and support and a new person found a welcome amongst a group of like minded people.

We found we enjoyed the variety of service styles offered by both ordained and lay leaders. We might sometimes be asked us to meditate on a theme (like pilgrimage) or a person (with an anniversary) or discuss an issue (like domestic violence or the work of the Foodbank). We might share information about a place in the news, or a place no longer in the news. We might be invited to pray for the needs of this city or for this place, the people who come here through the week and the people who are here to welcome, help, advise and support them. The focus of our prayers is diverse and we enjoy this diversity, this opportunity to learn something new.

When we meet at 12.30 every Friday to pray for Peace for the World and for those in need we find ourselves enriched and sustained in our faith journey and blessed with peace, the peace of God.

Today I would like to issue a number of invitations to you

Firstly, if you can, please move through to the Guildhall after the service and share in fellowship at the church barbeque and, perhaps, share something of your story of faith with someone else. Continue in our journey of knowing me, knowing you.

Secondly, please take a few moments to look at the presentation and ask questions if it is not clear. Please feedback your comments about Prayers for Peace or share your experiences or your favourite bible passage or poem or prayer, something that inspires you. The presentation here is only a start, our readings today have challenged me to think about what Jesus meant when he spoke Peace to his disciples and us. For today’s gospel reading warns of the cost of discipleship, of divisions in the family, of a baptism of fire. The epistle reminded us of those who were stoned, tortured, imprisoned for their faith. This does not make comfortable reading, but discipleship is not about comfort it is about discerning the truth, being sure in our faith and sharing it even if that brings hardship.

The peace which Jesus brought to his disciples came through the refining fire of the Holy Spirit. They then gave their lives for the gospel, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of their faith.

I am sure there is a lot more work to be done here in learning more about the peace which God offers and for which we pray. I do hope you will feel able to share your ideas, your reflections, our story.

And finally, if you ever have 30 minutes to spare at lunchtime on a Friday, please consider joining us for a moment of peace. There is a welcome waiting for you and, who knows, you may become a regular member or even hear yourself called to share in leading our conversation and prayers. I know that is possible; it happened to me.

And now may the Peace of God which passes all understanding be with us all today and always.

Jamaican Independence

Sermon by Rt Revd Robert Thompson, Bishop of Kingston, Jamaica

Sunday 11 August 2013

Psalm 137:1 

“By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept; when we remember you, O Zion.” 

These words speak to a context that is clearly different from ours today. Psalm 137 is a psalm for exiles, and that, we are not. And yet we cannot easily dismiss such a text since it speaks to a feeling many share about Jamaica, the land we love. Our text makes it possible for us to be honest in our worship; to lay certain things before the Lord, even my homeland, as we celebrate the 51st Anniversary of our independence.

Ancient Israel gathered for worship as we do now, with rage and indignation for what had become their homeland. They gathered around a liturgy with words that could help them describe how they felt, while at the same time pointing towards an alternate script that could give them hope. In such a context of worship, despair is never an option. Yes! Things may be unacceptable and unbearable, but the unexpected God cuts through the hurt and alienation with words and acts of healing. This faithfulness and commitment of God to the healing of life as we experience it is articulated best by, yet another voice from exile, the prophet Jeremiah, when he said: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you. Again I will build you, and you shall be built.”

Psalm 137 was written for a people who had been uprooted from their homeland. It evokes rage and anger at the displacement and the physical and psychological oppression; while at the same time affirming Israel’s remarkable expression of faith. This is precisely what is required of us today. On the one hand we must demonstrate our anger and repulsion of structural arrangements that have undermined our credibility as a nation. But we are required to do more than that if the festering evil of crime and violence is to loosen its hold on the society. Because our faith is in a God who is committed to justice and compassion, we are required to revise our world in a manner consistent with God’s dream for us.

The Psalmist expresses for all dispersed people the anguish and emptiness of not being rooted in anything. Israel is in a land she could never call her own, she is exposed and made vulnerable without the necessary resources for wholesome living. Yet it is precisely within such a context that promises are received, risks are run and hope energised.

So the Psalm does three things:

First of all it acknowledges the grief. Living at this very moment in our Nation’s history the struggle between the forces of life and death, light and darkness, freedom and annihilation is perhaps more transparent than ever before. But these forces have been with us from the beginning of time. The culture of death that is threatening to overtake our world today is far more insidious than we may wish to admit. It makes us numb to injustice and violence and undermines the very foundation of social order. The prophet Isaiah spoke of it long ago, when he said; “We have made a covenant with death, and with sheol we have an agreement; …. for we have made lies of our refuge, and in falsehood we have taken shelter.” (Ch. 28:14)

The pact with death to which the prophet speaks, is not made by losers of history but by those who have so much to lose. They will go very far in their bargaining with oblivion. They will invest in a power of their own creation and hold on to the very end despite every indication that such power is self-destructive. And please know this, that it is the social elite that is being addressed by the prophet. In the name of God they are ready to consign their world to nothingness if that is the only way they can preserve their own souls, their own properties and values, their prosperity. That is what is meant by those words from the prophet. They describe very well the life denying system and structure that have pervaded our social life for decades. Failure to contend with it will lead to our own condemnation.

The second thing the psalm does is to remind us of Israel’s resolve, never to allow the raid on their memory to undermine their confidence in the future. They may not be willing to sing Yahweh’s song as estranged persons, but says the psalmist, “If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill. Let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you; if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy.”

On the one hand verse 4 asks; how can we sing the Lord’s song upon alien soil? It admits that the present arrangements are not right, and cannot be accepted. However amidst the refusal to sing the Lord’s song in a strange land; amidst the opposition to this strangeness there comes a call for resilience. There is no point “storming the gate” but it doesn’t mean we sit and do nothing. The Jews are very good at waiting. And every dispersed people need to learn from them how to engage a kind of waiting that does not lead to despair. This is the kind of waiting that says before anything changes, before I can change comes a period of waiting. This time of waiting, is not a time for folding our arms and doing nothing. It is not the kind of time that cares care of itself. This waiting is an advent time. A time for preparation – for the reorientation of the mind. Genuine change must involve a critique of who we are, where we are and where we want to go. It is not an easy thing to work for personal and institutional change while at the same time exercising patience and watchfulness. That’s not an easy thing to do. Our world of instant gratification knows nothing about living in that kind of tension, however, that’s the place where we find ourselves in Jamaica today and God is inviting us to patiently engage in that slow process of transformation. As Christians we know we can count on the reliability of God’s promises.

The Psalmist draws his power and authority from his vision of God’s promise, which seems remote, but is not for one instant in doubt. There will be a homecoming to peace, justice and freedom. It is that vision that keeps hope alive against enormous odds.

Finally, the resolve to maintain hope against all odds concludes in verses 7 – 9, with a stern resistance to Babylon’s oppressive measures. It is not exactly a noble prayer, but demonstrates a faith that expresses itself in resistance. To endure against despair in the way that Israel is being invited to do in this psalm, requires an alternative vision of one’s world. That is to say, coexistence with systems of oppression and death must be ruled out. That, we must remember, is what every act of worship does for us. It envisions a world that God himself promises. A world of compassion, mercy, justice, righteousness, truth and equity. It is a promise against all other worlds – the worlds of Pharaoh, Babylon and their successors. The significance of both the gift given in Christ in our worship, and the fulfilment of that gift in the future, lies in our willingness to embody those activities that are consistent with God’s vision for the world. This act of envisioning that worship engages us in is world creating because it invites us to embody God’s hope for humanity. That’s exactly what we are being invited to do when we pray, “Thy Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven.” It promises a hoped-for-world that is beyond present reality. Whenever Israel worshipped as they do in the psalms, they are once again committing themselves to this hoped-for-world. It is defiant, because it says, the only world it will give its full allegiance to is Yahweh’s world, not the world of Babylon. And because Yahweh’s world is the only one Israel will give it’s allegiance to, it means that other worlds are excluded from Israel’s social horizon and possibility. Without such a commitment, our worship today will be little more than an empty rite.

That kind of commitment is what makes Israel’s worship and the worship of Christians so threatening to the false powers of the world. This was the problem the former slave masters and their representatives had with our slave ancestors when they secretly met for worship. Physically they remained in captivity, but their spirits remained free to worship the God of Abraham, Isaac and Moses – in a mode that was liberating. Because they could visualize a world beyond chains, and therefore a different future, not controlled by the slave master, they were considered a danger to the State. In the nights, after their long days in the field, their songs of freedom would break out in hope for a new day. They could do this, because ultimately Yahweh’s power for life could not be contained.

The remarkable thing about Israel’s struggle in singing Yahweh’s Song is that it did not lead to resignation. Neither did it lead them to abdicate into some kind of religious escapism. Out of their grief and weeping they found the resolve to resist, and work for an alternative. It is hard for those of us who live relatively comfortable lives to understand the tenacity of the dispersed and enslaved. From the moment our ancestors arrived in the so-called “New World” they resisted their enslavement. In fact that resistance began along the west coast of Africa and continued among the slaves in Haiti and the maroons in Jamaica, who eventually proved slavery to be unprofitable, if not unworkable. Faith in God’s sustaining presence, provided them with a place to stand in a hostile world, while at the same time sustained them with hope and courage to fight for an alternate world. The significance of celebrating our nations independence around the same time when we also commemorate the end of slavery in the British West Indies must not be lost on us. If we so choose it can inspire in all of us the courage to break the silence of shame and face head on the challenge of creating a new paradigm for our nation’s future – one that involves the transformation of structures, the infusions of new values within the present cultures and the healing and reconciliation of broken relationships. In order for this paradigm to take root, civil society, including voices from the Diaspora will have to become far more active in demanding a higher level of stewardship from our leaders.

Only a faith that can show itself strongly on the side of life can make way for the good society that we all dream of. Our collective witness must reaffirm that kind of faith. Not for its own security, but for the wellbeing of nations. That witness must consist of living within the present world according to the new rule of God. That is simply to say, consider what is on God’s mind and set your thoughts on that. Putting into practice the generous self-giving love which is at the core of Jesus’ own message; demonstrating to the world that there is a different way to be human, a way of charity and compassion, a way of patience and prudence, a way of joy and justice. These are the things that mattered most to the early Christians, and they must matter to us too if we are to play our part in contributing to the good order that God wills for his world.

Pentecost 2013

19 May 2013

The Reverend David Moore

Acts 2.1-21 and John 14.8-17

Prayer for the Week:

God of fire

you flow through our history

leaping from one generation to another;

releasing captives, affirming the poor,

welcoming outcasts,

inspiring visionaries.

You speak with the accents of all people.

We acknowledge our selective hearing.

As a child I grew up with a mild form of epilepsy and a significant speech disorder. I stuttered and stammered and, as a consequence, spoke extremely rapidly in an attempt not to stutter. This was self-defeating in that I then added spluttering to my stuttering! You might say ‘a vicious circle’.

At that time forming relationships with girls was more than a bit tricky! Fortunately somebody had spotted me long before I noticed her! When in due course I ‘got the message’ the welcome mat was already in place! When I first walked Dorothy home and met her mother .... well ... as soon as I had left, her mother would say to Dorothy “what did he say?”

But there is more ... once a year the young people from the Church Youth Club which I attended would conduct an evening service for a congregation of up to 250 people. The Minister would plan the service and Club members would share in the announcing, praying and the preaching. The sermon was made up of three five-minute slots. The Youth Leader and Minister sorted out who did what.

I was 17 and I knew that I wanted to take part. I attended the planning meeting. The Youth Club leader began by saying “Well David, it is no good asking you to say anything, nobody will understand you, you can help with the collection.” It was like a knife through my heart! All the jobs were allocated and we left. Do you know the cartoon character who has a permanent cloud over his head? Well that was me!

Fortunately not all history is in continuous, non-reversible straight lines! On this occasion the person chosen to do the final part of the sermon was taken ill a few days before the event and I immediately volunteered to deputise. There were no other volunteers - I saw to that - so the job was mine.

So, it was with fear and trembling I climbed the pulpit steps. Sixty years on I can recall the emotion, the steps beneath my feet, the feel of the white painted handrail. I took a deep breath - bit hard on the end of my tongue to moisturise my mouth and did it - without one verbal glitch. My mother’s eyes were almost popping out of her head with pride. I was completely exhausted! And so it was that I started preaching. In the pulpit I was fine, out of the pulpit I was still rubbish!

At first I imagined the ‘freedom of the pulpit’ was the result of some sort of direct line from God, a divine version of a fairy’s wand, which somehow supported and enabled me to preach without stammering .... BUT much, much later I learned something even more wonderful - that standing up before people and preaching involves a different area of brain activity to that of everyday conversation. So what might that mean for my religious view of God?

Looking back to that first pulpit ‘event’ I do not think in terms of God’s ‘finger‘ directly energising me, but rather I considerate it in terms of recognising the ‘Ancient of Days’ - that which breathed shape into all life, including human DNA.

Suddenly I am engaged, not with a capricious God who may or may not choose to act/help but rather I am tied into all human history .... so that now wherever you or I may come from, at the most profound level - at the level of deepest personal identity - we are all one. ‘One’ not as sinners but as human beings - marked with genetic code.

And this, to my mind, may be what occurred on the Day of Pentecost - disparate people finding a common identity, an identity way beyond any of their wildest imaginings or hoping. When strangers meet and converse - whatever their native tongue - there is always the potential for a ‘homecoming’, for discovery, for recognition, for mutuality, for new forms of collective wonder, a new spin on human history - the future can be opened up. So, my desire to remain in the European Union is total and is theological - I seek to affirm the deepest aspect of who we all are.

The Pentecost power I speak of is not the power that makes war and spills blood - just the opposite - it is the power to find common cause with strangers and enemies; the forming of unfamiliar friendships, discovering the new harmonic of ecumenism and internationalism.

Some of you will have heard me speak before about the remarkable man Archbishop Helder Camara - his Diocese was in the poor City of Recife in Northern Brazil. Camara was a constant thorn in the flesh of the Pope, the Cardinals, but mostly to the Brazilian Generals who ran the Junta for 23 years.

Last week a friend, Roger Williamson, wrote me a note about the day he met Dom Helder Camara .... it was a note scribbled while curating an exhibition in Brighton. (Any passing visitor to that exhibition would have no idea of the profundity being penned in public).

Roger, now retired, spent all his working life with International Peace and World Development agencies. This is what he wrote in his note to me:

“I met him (Helder Camara) in 1986 and particularly wanted to talk to him about the death of his assistant, who had been killed, not least as a warning to Camara. I said that the story of the young man’s funeral was very moving. In the middle of the service Dom Helder went across and embraced the man’s mother - he said “It was a perfectly natural thing to do.” Yes, perfectly natural, but not very Bishop-y”

I asked him if he felt guilty because of the young assistant’s death. He said “No, he made his choice, he knew what he was doing, “I said “Yes, but he was killed partly to warn you.” His reply was ”He committed his life to the poor and there is no better way to die than in the service of the poor.”

I am sure that you, like Roger, will find these words incredibly moving - might they not offer us a real, honest, way into the Pentecost narrative? How different nationalities, different cultures, different interests, can find common cause, form new common identity. But to form a common identity means we must all also let go of something, misconceptions, false assumptions, self-interest?

The faith stories, as handed down to us, come as jewels, puzzles, conundrums, invitations - as life stories. The trouble with using stories like that of Helder Camara is that, for me, it inevitably puts me on a collision course with the dominant motifs of our contemporary political life - values which do not encourage me to embrace and cherish the poor, or to dream of building a common wealth, of discovering ways of holding our greatest ‘treasures’ in common.

If nothing else, the multinationalism of the Day of Pentecost raises questions as to how we treat the ‘outsiders’ in our midst. There are members of this congregation who had no option but to flee their homelands; this congregation has members from diverse Christian traditions and ambitions. But we are all here together - either we engage or we bypass each other. If we fail to grasp the fundamental undercurrents of our life together, I fear we will have lost or squandered the pearl of great price - that which should be cherished above all else.

Pentecost 2013 - the scribbled note from Roger reminded me afresh that choosing to prioritise the poor is not a priority for the majority of our parliamentarians. Do we raise our voice or do we remain silent?

Maybe it was the fact of being ‘beyond the pale’, of not being the ‘main act in town’ in terms of the political establishment, that was the very thing that gave Pentecost such a memorable OUTCOME.

Some time later today find ten minutes to get out your Bible and read the concluding four verses of Acts Chapter 2 - the emergence of Fresh Expressions - not only prayers and songs - but practical sharing. The Pentecostal imperative, it would appear, requires economic change - a strategy of sharing. Now there’s a thing!

Easter intercessions

Intercessions 14 April 2013

Led by the Reverend David Moore

On this second Sunday after Easter I remind you that women were prime candidates to be the first Apostles - they were first to see the Risen Christ - but the world at the time was not ready for them!

May I also remind you that our preacher today, Wendy Carey, was the first woman local to Milton Kerynes to be ordained in the Oxford Diocese.

Let us pray:

Mysterious God, hidden in creation and revealed in Jesus, we have waited patiently and earnestly for the Easter Season - the days when we approach again the open grave and discover for ourselves, not that it is empty, but that Christ is risen.

We believe. Glory, glory
Christ is Risen.
Glory, Glory, glory

Jesus the Christ, as we focus on Mary Magdalene the first person to know that you were alive, and even though the words ‘Christ is Risen’ is like honey upon our lips, we also carry with us the shame and regret that Mary herself become a byword for sentimentality and immorality and that her degrading continues to shadow our faith community.

We ask you, the Risen One, to burst open the graves within us this day, so that as women and men together, we may honor you by truly honoring each other.

Help each of us to grow, free us from all that holds us back, egg us on with renewed supplies of courage, humility, ingenuity and grace.

We believe. Glory, glory
Christ is Risen.
Glory, Glory, Glory

Risen Christ open the graves which exist within our own community at Cornerstone, free us from all that constricts, that the ecumenical flame may burn with renewed freedom, disposing of self interest - increasing diversity and delight. May this Church be a place of discovery, gladness and welcome for all people.

We believe. Glory, glory
Christ is Risen.
Glory, Glory, Glory

Open the graves which exist within our world, that we may harness and express the grandeur and intensity of your purpose for all people.

At this great Season of Liberation, it is in sadness and shame we whisper our prayers for Syria, for Palestine, the people of Iraq, Afghanistan, remembering also those in poverty, hunger, caught up in warfare, the shame of the arms-trade, debt, bankruptcy, repossession. We know deep in our heart that our levels of comfort and reward feed off the injustices which others suffer.

Risen Christ as you hear the echo of our voice in your empty tomb, remind us again that you are not there but alive and active in the world.

We believe. Glory, glory
Christ is Risen.
Glory, Glory, Glory

Most earnestly we pray you to fill in the graves we currently dig for future generations - through our senseless and willful misuse of the planet.

May the Christ, the one who rises, rise among us and within us, so that as individuals and as a community, we may discover both hope and actions to contribute to the future, that we will learn to live sustainable lives of imagination and joy.

We give thanks for the dogged persistence of Friends of the Earth, the Soil Association and the great tapestry of ‘green’ campaigners. Keep us faithful in small things but persistently hungry and willing to do more.

We believe. Glory, glory
Christ is Risen.
Glory, Glory, Glory

For the sick within our community at Cornerstone; for all of those whose life and well-being weighs heavy upon our hearts; we remember the trauma at the City Counseling Centre and the distress within the Bereavement Counseling Service.

Risen Christ you greeted the grief-stricken Mary and turned her life around; affirming her as the tower of strength she already was, be with all those in need a Tower of Strength at this time, especially we remember all those who will bury their dead this week.

We believe. Glory, glory
Christ is Risen.
Glory, Glory, Glory

Amen

Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you doing here?

14th April 2013 

Acts 9.1-20 and John 21.1-19

The Reverend Wendy Carey

'You must give us your testimony'. Those words were enough to strike fear into a rather retiring High Church Anglican like myself. The circumstances in which they were spoken intensified the anxiety.

It was 1992 and I was in the second year of part time theological training at Queens College, Birmingham. The topic for the residential study week end was Christianity in multi-ethnic Britain. We students were spending the week end staying with families who had come to Birmingham from overseas; and the programme for Sunday was to attend worship with our host family. My hosts were originally from Jamaica, had been in Birmingham for about 20 years, and were Methodists.

But this was the Sunday in the month when they accompanied their Minister to his other. pastorate - as one of the Chaplains of Winson Green Prison. And this Sunday the service was to be led by the Church of God of Prophesy. Before the service their pastor came over to welcome the seven or eight students, their host families and one of our tutors. 'Who are you, where do you come from, and what are you doing here?' He asked. 'We're theology students' we replied. 'Then one of you must give us your testimony.'

Why did all eyes turn to me? Possibly because I had already accepted the post of Assistant Chaplain at Woodhill Prison, although the prison had not yet opened. To confirm the expectation, the Tutor said - 'I need to hear a sermon from you Wendy, and it's a long way to Milton Keynes.' So for the first time in my life I stood up to give my testimony, with virtually no preparation, and for the first time spoke in the Chapel of a secure male prison.

I spoke about three verses from Exodus, concerning God's call to Moses:

But Moses said to the Lord, ‘O my Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor even now that you have spoken to your servant; but I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.’ Then the Lord said to him, ‘Who gives speech to mortals? Who makes them mute or deaf, seeing or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you are to speak.’

I linked Moses dramatic story with my own less dramatic one of events that had brought me to that Sunday morning in Winson Green Prison.

This morning we heard as our readings two dramatic stories of conversion, forgiveness and sending in mission. In order for them to reach the pages of the New Testament, each private individual's story, of Peter and Paul, those two great shapers of Christian faith and practice, they must have originally been given as testimony. In some of Paul's letters he tells some snippets of that testimony, and the way in which his experience of God had shaped his life since his conversion. Both men's stories continue in the pages of Acts.

Two stories, quite different in their geographical setting, their details and in the events which led up to them. And a third and different story, one which had already influenced the shape and culture of Peter's and Paul's lives - the story of Moses. Yet all these stories, different in their content and details, have essential elements in common. In each we find God, God encountered as Jehovah, or God encountered in Jesus Christ, meeting a person in the course of their daily life. And in that encounter, all that they have been, have said or have done up to that point is part of the meaning of the meeting. Each one, Moses, Peter, Paul had asked of God at some stage of their life 'Who are you?' Then, in those dramatic encounters, experienced, in the wilderness at mount Horeb, by the sea of Tiberias, or on the road to Damascus, God had in effect said to Moses, to Peter and to Paul, 'but who are you?'

Each encounter involved some kind of forgiveness or restoration. Because the question 'Who are you?' involves an examination of all the events that has brought the person to this moment. And for each of those men there was a stain on their past life; Moses had killed an Egyptian and hidden his body, Peter had denied three times that he knew Jesus while he was being tried - just as Jesus had predicted he would, Saul, who was to become Paul, had persecuted Christians - those who followed the Way. Underlying the encounters was the question 'Where have you come from?' What are the events and attitudes which have shaped your life up to this moment?

And then the encounter becomes both dramatic and amazing, for there is not just acceptance, forgiveness, conversion from God, but there is commissioning, sending, giving a task. 'What are you doing here?' And even more importantly, what will you do? Who will you become? How will the rest of your life which follows this significant encounter with God be different from the past which has brought you to this day, to this moment?

And the stories which must initially have been given as testimony - 'see what The Lord has done for me!' told to individuals or to small groups of people, were spread through the Jewish and Christian communities, and shaped our lives as Christians. The First Epistle of Peter tells us:

'Always be ready to make your defence when anyone challenges you to justify the hope which is in you. But do so with courtesy and respect. '

You must give us your testimony. Each one of us has a story to tell. It is unlikely that many of us will have stories to tell as dramatic as as those of Moses, Peter or Paul, but there may be some among us who do have dramatic and significant things to tell. And how we tell them may vary greatly. We may want to be thoughtful about who, we tell our Christian story, and how we tell it. Most of us try to tell our story through our lives, words and actions, and we often, like those very human and flawed men, Moses, Peter and Paul, fail to tell it, or tell a different story than the one we are hoping to set out as Christians.

But God does not let go of us, with him there is mercy, says the Psalmist. God knows who we are, and where we have come from, and God knows also what we are capable of achieving, and supports and trusts us to achieve it.

Who are you? Without self knowledge, a genuinely objective assessment of our own strengths and weaknesses, we can neither properly make our confession, nor achieve our full potential, as human beings or as Christians.

Where do you come from? Moses, Peter and Paul became the people they were, not despite their chequered history, but because of it. We too are made the people we are because of the whole of our personal histories - even the difficult bits. We need to learn the lessons of history, not only the lessons of our personal history, but of our time, our culture and of our faith story. As we recount the stories and sayings week by week in our Bible readings, we understand how we come to be here, in this time, in this place, and in this situation.

What are you doing here? In other words, what is your mission? What purpose has God for you? The stories of Moses, Peter and Paul have their meaning in the fulfilment of the individual tasks given to each of them by God. For some of us, the answer to the question 'What is God asking of me?' may seem very clear, to others the answer may be uncertain or difficult to define or act upon. But each of us is asked 'What are you doing here?'

In the Newsletter there is advance warning of this church's Annual Meeting next Sunday. It is not just individual Christians, but Christian communities that must answer those questions; Who are you, where have you come from, what are you doing here? It is for churches, and for the universal church to tell the world their answers to those questions. There is a lot of routine business to get through at an Annual Meeting, but it is also an opportunity to ask and to give some answers to those questions.

Who are you, where have you come from, what are you doing here?

You must give us your testimony.

Where’s Gamaliel?

Low Sunday 2013 

Acts 5:27–32 and John 20:19–29

The Reverend David Moore

When we were coming up to retirement, 12 years ago, Dorothy and I thought long and hard as to what sort of house we would require in order to live a fulfilling retirement. We decided the minimum requirement would include a house with an upstairs and a downstairs loo; a house which was walking distance from a local shop and a property in which either of us would be comfortable to live alone.

We found such a house and the Methodist Ministers Housing Society purchased it, with us contributing 13% of the cost. It has two bedrooms, the second one doubles as a study. It is a modest house and it suits us well. I built a studio in the garden and there is a garage into which no car has a chance of entering. It is also a good place to live, with neighbors we both like and trust.

However, if we were Housing Association or Local Authority tenants I may not be sleeping so comfortably in my bed at night. I speak of the second bedroom tax!

But this is nothing new - in 1993 the year before we came to Milton Keynes the same song was being sung by the John Major Government. Here is the opening paragraph of a letter I sent to a Government minister and all the MPs in Bradford, where I then worked.

I am outraged at our Government’s latest invective. Selecting lone parents - in reality single mothers - for the latest round of castigation is obscene. .... I am also outraged by the mediocrity of the response of opposition parties.

The bedroom tax is but a continuum of the scapegoating attitudes ever present in class-driven politics. Should you think I am straying too far from scripture I invite you to take a second look at the Bible Reading from the Acts of the Apostles.

You will recall the reading from the Acts ended at verse 32.

This touched them on the raw and they wanted to put him to death... 

the passage continues ...

...But a member of the Council rose to his feet, a Pharisee called Gameliel, a teacher of the law held in high regard by all the people. He said Men of Israel, be very careful what you do with these men. Now my advice to you is this: keep clear of these men, for if what is planned and done is human in origin, it will collapse, but if it is from God you will never stamp it out, and you risk finding yourself at war with God.‘ 

Today we might say that Gameliel was viewing the bigger picture.

During the last ‘World War’ when the bombing of Germany and England was at its height the Rt Revd. George Bell, Bishop of Chichester, spoke out against the British policy of the carpet bombing of German cities - bombing which was primarily aimed at industrial working class areas of Germany. Bell did not get an easy ride - either from his Archbishop or from Parliament - but Bell was made of tough stuff - he was seeing beyond the immediate - his eyes were upon what it means to be civilised at a time of war.

A part of our high calling is being civilised and equitable in times of constraint - we are called to witness to the generosity of God ... the one who is light years beyond any possibility of penny pinching.

If only there were such effective voices in our land today, voices to speak to a government which now appears to be totally out of touch with the lives of ordinary people but which seems hell bent, not only on asking the poorest to carry a disproportionate share of the cost of the present financial plight, but also implying they are part of the problem.

Back to My house. If I were forced to downsize to a one bedroomed house - I cannot begin to imagine the real cost - books, furniture, paintings, tools, sculptures, clothes, studio. Never again being able to invite a visitor to stay - be it our children, grandchildren or friends. Nowhere to make sculptures. Yes, I also speak about the meaning of being civilised!

So where is our Gamaliel today? Who is willing to speak to power about truth of modesty? Where is the champion? The Church of Scotland, the Baptist Church, the United Reformed Church and the Methodist all made a comment this week ... I applaud their effort but the trouble is it had no real teeth! No practical dissent, no action.

How many people do you think there are who are in real danger of being forcibly relocated and have no platform from which to be heard? Relocated ... now there is a familiar word ... remember it?

In 1970 the book The Discarded People depicting the relocation of black South Africans from valuable development areas to more remote areas.. A few years later the priest/author Cosmas Desmond, was forced into exile and was to become one of my closest friends in East London. I conducted his memorial service just a year ago! He was the author of The Discarded People.

The Bantu Homelands Citizens Act - one of a string of Acts by the legitimate South African Parliament, compelled all black people to become a citizen of the homeland that responded to their ethnic group, regardless of whether they'd ever lived there or not, a process which also removed their South African citizenship.

For Cos Desmond this was an issue of Human Rights, it was about building a Civilised Society, this is why George Bell raised his voice during a war for the enemy about carpet bombing.

Or again going back even further .... The British Government in 1960 adopted the Parker Morris Building Standards which legislated housing to be built upon standards compatible with ‘healthy living’. Air, light, space.

The Margaret Thatcher government removed those standards and today more and more of our fellow citizens live in less and less space. Builders with Rabbit Hutch mentalities! Not only that, but the pouring of much of our income into home ownership has been part and parcel of the financial crisis of recent times. Banking and House building are close cousins!

Is there no balm in Gilead? Can we choose other ways of living? Are we bound forever to a treadmill designed by bankers? Or, as Gameliel put it, ... be careful for what you wish for ... only that which belongs to God truly lasts.

My religious heritage is Methodist which came into being with John and Charles Wesley in the 18th century. No more than 20 years after his death the growing movement began to splinter into a range of denominations all claiming Wesley as their spiritual inspiration - each carrying, as it were, their own particular flag. When these denominations eventually reunited in 1932 a prayer by William Younger the President of the Primitive Methodist Church, concluded with these words:

the oneness of our irrevocable decision (is to) to labour together for the salvation of the world

To labour together for the salvation of the world! ....... Not the salvation of their souls, not an assurance of a place in heaven - the great endeavour was the salvation of the world - civilisation, mutuality, compassion, community, support, strong and weak finding common purpose, shared joy.

Listen to these notes from Wesley’s Journal:

Bath, Wednesday October 1st 1783 All my leisure hours this week I employed in visiting the poor and in begging for them. Having collected about fifty pounds more, I was able to relieve most of those in distress.

Letter to Ebenezar Blackwood:

To Lending Stock	2	0	0
Brooks, expecting daily to have goods taken for rent	1	0	0
To Eliz Room (a poor widow) for rent	0	5	0
Toward clothing for Mary Middleton and another poor woman almost naked	0	10	0
To John Weaver, a poor weaver, out of work	0	5	0
To Lucy Jones, a poor orphan	0	2	0
To a poor family for food and fuel	0	5	0
To Christopher Brown, out of business	0	2	6
To an ancient woman in great distress	0	2	6
Distributed among several sick families	0	10	0
	5	5	0

I am, dear Sir, your affectionate servant

Letter to Dorothy Furley. Sept. 21st 1757 

.... in most genteel religious people there is so strange a mixture that I seldom have confidence in them. I love the poor; in many of them I find pure, genuine grace unmixed with paint, folly and affectation.

So whether I like it or not, even in retirement, I consider myself as a manunder orders! The Methodist Movement flows from the same spirit that moved Bishop Bell to speak out against indiscriminate bombing at a time far more precarious than ours today and perhaps that is why I can never and will never be at rest.

Those of you who read the local newspapers may have seen the headlines about the City Counseling Centre based at this Church. To the undiscerning reader it may have given rise to believing that in some way we (this Church) gave the MK Bereavement Service its marching orders. We can of course simply say that it is nothing to do with us - but so are the poor of the world. Clearly something somewhere has gone off the rails and I hope some representative of ‘us’ might post a message on the notice sheet and or website, expressing at least concern for those who feel trampled upon by recent events.

My difficulty is that resurrection really means ALL of life - we can be polite, mind our own business or we can believe with Bishop Bell and John Wesley that life is far too precious for silence in such matters.

A friend from Stoke on Trent whom I have known for over 50 years, has lived most of her adult life with a severe mobility disorder. Now retired, she works as a volunteer at a local Advice Centre. Last Wednesday was her first day back at the Centre after the Easter and after April 1st - she says the Centre was totally overrun - 100s of emails; queues out the doors - people in panic and confusion, simply not knowing what to do.

Come unto me all you who labour and are laden and heavy laden. Are we meant to believe that ? Are we meant to act it out? Or again: ‘What you do to the least of these my brethren you do it to me?‘
 
What can we actually do about the the changes in benefits? I am sorry to say, very little. A majority of MPs at Westminster have voted for them and some came into effect on April Fools Day! One thing we can do is let our MPs know just how we feel as Christians.

It is not difficult to get email addresses for MPs through the internet - I am not going to spoon feed you!

Postscript

Since this sermon was delivered Margaret Thatcher has died. There is no doubt that she was a remarkable leader. As a politician, most people I knew and worked with, disliked or despised her.

Easter Day Meditation 2013

Acts 10:34-43 and Luke 24: 1-12

Fr Jonathan Ewer SSM

31st March 2013

But peter got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; then he went home, amazed at what had happened.

In every Jewish home at the Passover meal, the youngest person present asks the question ‘Why are we doing this? What’s all this business about unleavened bread and bitter herbs?’ And the father of the family, presiding over the meal, gives the answer, ‘We do this because our ancestors were slaves in Egypt, but the Lord freed us from slavery…’ and so they go through the story in detail. And the detail is important, because their Passover meal is a re-living of the original Passover event. For they were there, in the loins of their ancestors, as they quaintly put it; they were there in the bodies of their ancestors; they were there as slaves in Egypt and they were there at the crossing of the red sea. They were there in the desert and at the foot of Mount Sinai. They were there as they trecked around the desert and eventually made it to the promised land. They were there, in the bodies of their ancestors. So every year they re-lived the Passover event. They didn’t just remember it, they re-lived it symbolically, in their homes at this meal with unleavened bread representing the manna in the wilderness, the bitter herbs representing the difficulties of the journey, and the wine poured out representing the blood of the covenant.

During this last week, the whole Christian community – well, apart from the Orthodox who have got the date wrong again – apart from them, the whole Christian community has been re-living its Passover. Last Sunday we re-lived the entry into Jerusalem with palm branches and crosses welcoming the Messiah into the place of Peace – which is ironically what Jerusalem is thought to have meant: the place of peace. On Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday we listened to the stories about Mary anointing Jesus feet with costly ointment as if for burial, about the Greeks from Galilee wanting to see Jesus, which prompts Jesus to say ‘Now is the Son of Man glorified’, and about the terrible moment at the supper when Jesus knew that someone there was going to betray him… All of these stories led us relentlessly towards the events of that Thursday evening, the last supper, the foot washing, the agony in the garden. ‘Not my will but thine be done.’ The tension mounts as we go through Thursday night, watching the encounters between Jesus and the Jewish and Roman authorities, and watching his disciples slinking away through fear and bewilderment.

Then the crucifixion itself. On Good Friday we heard the passion story from St John’s gospel, and then there was time to pray in front of the cross, until 3 o’clock when it was all over and there was an emptiness – like death. Yesterday, Holy Saturday, was a nothing day, an empty day, which we filled with doing things to prepare for Easter, busying ourselves the way that people do when they are in grief.

Then last night or early this morning, there was the lighting of the new fire, the blessing and lighting of the Easter candle, which we brought into church. “The Light of Christ: Thanks be to God”.

At Willen we sang the Exsultet, an ancient song which tells the Exodus story of the pillar of fire which led the Jews by night through the wilderness to freedom – eventually. Going the through the Red Sea is linked to baptism so we renewed our baptismal vows and celebrated our washing for freedom, our being brought into the Body of Christ.

All of these events this week have been for us a re-living of our Passover event – and it is a reliving, because in the nature of symbolism we have been baptized into Christ, made parts of his body so that what happened to that body happens to us: we share in his crucifixion, we share his death, his descent into hell, and we share his rising from the dead.

The Jews re-live the Passover, the escape from Egypt; we re-live our Passover, our escape from slavery – the slavery of sin. It isn’t simply remembering past events: we are re-living stuff that has happened to us, and keeps on happening to us, so that we are different people – and will keep on being made different people.

There is another point about this re-living business: the Jews looked backwards – to the Exodus, and beyond that to Abraham, to see the events which made them the people of God, the events which made them who they are. They march forward indeed, but whenever they get carried away and forget to look back to their formative events, they go off the rails and get into all sorts of trouble. A prophet has to be sent to get them back on track.

It is the same with us. We look back to the events of Holy Week, the events that made us the people we are. We march forward, of course, but we know perfectly well that whenever we forget our origins, whenever we get obsessed with moving towards the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, we get off course and a prophet arises to make us stop and re-think. That applies to us as a church, it applies to us as a nation, it applies to us as individuals.

In our own lives we can see the hand of God only when we look back. We can see where we have come from, we can see the important stepping stones, the decisions we made or which were made for us, we can see how we’ve been led. Faith is an assumption that God will keep on leading us, a belief that the direction will be more or less the same, a hope that he is drawing us nearer to himself. And it is faith, not knowledge. We don’t know where we’re heading, we don’t know where we’re being taken, but in faith we go on, tentatively, trying things out, but confident that we are being led – to the promised land, to the kingdom of God. The opposite of faith is not doubt; the opposite of faith is certainty. People who say they know what God plans for them, people who say they know the will of God, frighten me a bit. Fundamentalists of any kind frighten me. They are absolutely they are right, and everyone else is wrong. It is a short step from that illusion to violence and oppression.

We are a people of faith, not knowledge, a people of hope, not certainty. Every little we are given to understand of the will of God is provisional, enough to work with for the time being, but not the whole truth. And every bit that we think might be the truth we test by checking it with what God has done in the past. We can see the pain – and can identify with the suffering of Jesus, we can see also the moments of wonder and amazement as the presence of God is revealed to us – and we can identify with the Resurrection.

If we can see where God has been leading us, if we can see the stepping stones, if it all makes sense – God’s sense, that is, not ours necessarily - then we have the courage to continue. That is being brave, that is being radical, going back to our roots in order to check out what we are about to do now.

Holy Week enables us to re-live the passion with Jesus. It takes us back to our roots, to the crucifixion in which we play a part, not simply as observers of an event 2000 years ago, but as participants in the mystical body of Christ. We are there in his body. Holy week takes us back to our roots so that we can see where we come from, and that tells us who we are, and where we might be going. And the Resurrection of our Lord seals the deal: slavery to sin is over, everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name, as St Peter said. The kingdom has come near, and we are given glimpses of the truth, the truth that shall set us free. Our response is not a triumphalist certainty, to lord it over others. No. Like Peter we are amazed at what has happened.

And whereas Moses commanded every Jewish family to re-live the Passover every year, Jesus, our new law-giver, commands us to re-live our Passover – every year in Holy Week, yes, but also every week, or even more often than that, every time we celebrate the Eucharist – which is what we are doing now.

So today especially, today of all days, as we come to share the Eucharist, let our eating the holy bread feed our awareness that we are one body with him, the body tortured, crucified, and resurrected. And let our drinking the holy wine slake our thirst for the things of the new covenant, for justice, for peace, in the new Jerusalem, the city of peace. And with Peter, let us go home, amazed at what has happened, amazed at what has happened to us, and amazed at the possibilities God is leading us into.