Sunday, 28 June 2015

Patronal Festival: Living stones



“Like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house.”

I’ve given you all a stone today. You might like to hold it as you listen. You can take it home with you – in fact, please do! Put it somewhere special. Decorate it if you like, or don’t if you’d rather not.

Let’s ponder these stones for a moment, though. Each one is different – a different shape, colour and size. Some are smooth and round, some have rough edges where they have been broken at some point in their lives. I wonder where your stone came from, and what stories it could tell if it had a voice. Perhaps it was once part of a mountain. Perhaps it is limestone, built out of the shells of tiny sea creatures. Perhaps it has been at the bottom of the ocean, or the middle of a desert at some point in its long life. But now here it is, in your hand.

The Bible is full of stones, like the stony Middle Eastern landscapes which the people who wrote it knew. Of course, there is lush, green, fertile land in Israel, but there is also a great deal of desert, rocky wilderness in which life is tough.
Maybe it’s no surprise, then, that those make their way into so many Biblical stories.

In the Old Testament, Jacob uses a stone for a pillow when he lies down in the middle of nowhere and dreams of a ladder reaching from earth to heaven. He’s on the run from his family, having stolen his twin brother’s birthright, so he is amazed to find that God is still with him. He sets up the stone as a marker at the place he calls “Bethel” literally the “house of God”.

Stones were used as markers in other stories too. When the Israelites crossed the river Jordan into the Promised Land, God told each tribe to bring a stone to make a cairn. In times to come they would see it, and show it to their children and remember the journey – and the God who had rescued them. These weren’t the only stones in that journey.  The Ten Commandments were written by God on tablets of stone – another reminder of what the priorities of their new nation should be.

Stone was a symbol of permanence. It endured. It was solid. It said, “we are here to stay, and so is our God.”

Eventually the Israelites built themselves a stone Temple to worship in, replacing the temporary wooden structures that had gone before it. The altar was of stone too, unhewn stone, like a drystone wall. They weren’t to use chisels on it, presumably so they wouldn’t be tempted to carve images into it.

Of course, stones could also be instruments of death. David killed the Philistine giant Goliath with a sling-stone , and stoning was a common means of execution. Stones could make life tough in other ways too. The stony soil in the parable of the sower couldn’t nourish the seeds which fell on it. They sprang up, but then withered and died.
And stones could be barriers. The stone that was rolled across the mouth of Jesus’ tomb was meant to make sure his body stayed where it was. “Who will roll the stone away?” asked the women who came to the tomb to anoint Jesus. But God, it turned out, had that problem sorted out – stones were no barrier to him, any more than death was. I could go on. When you start looking for stones in the Bible you find them everywhere.

But let’s look at the readings we heard today. There were stones in both of them, but they were of a very different kind to the ones we are holding in our hands, very different from those other Biblical stones  I have been talking about. The stone in the Gospel reading was St Peter, one of our Patron saints. His name was really Simon, but Jesus called him Petros, the rock. The name is a signal that Peter will be part of the foundation of the new community he is building. We find the same idea in the first letter of Peter, which talks about “living stones”. The author almost certainly isn’t St Peter. It is too late and too elegantly written to be the work of a Galilean fisherman. But the person who wrote it might have given it his name because he had known and followed him. He certainly seems to have stones on his mind. He talks about Jesus as the cornerstone of a new building. The cornerstone is the stone all the others are lined up with. It is vital, but it is only the beginning. It isn’t a building on its own. And that’s where we come in, because we are called to be stones too, “living stones”, like Jesus, used by God to build with.

I was struck by this phrase “living stones” this week as I thought about this passage. It’s an odd phrase. I wondered whether it was a common metaphor at the time, or whether this writer had invented it. It seems that he probably did. It’s not used anywhere else in the Bible, and doesn’t seem to be used in this sense in classical literature either.

But his hearers would have understood what he meant, because it grows out of ideas that were very much in people’s minds at the time.

Both the Gospel and the letter were probably written at some point shortly after AD 70, the date when the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans. It was a huge crisis point for the Jewish people. This massive stone edifice had looked indestructible, as if it would stand forever, but the Romans had other ideas, and razed it to the ground. Today there is just one wall of it left, the Western or wailing wall, where Jewish people go to pray.

The Romans didn’t just destroy a building when they knocked the Temple down, though; they destroyed an entire religious system. Ancient Judaism was based on sacrifice. This was how you drew close to God. Now there was nowhere to sacrifice, so how were you to encounter God, to be strengthened, forgiven , healed? Some turned increasingly to their scriptures and their laws, and focussed on these – the Pharisees - but those who followed Jesus said that they’d met God in him, a flesh and blood person. Once he was no longer physically with them, they believed his presence could still be felt through his Spirit at work in their communities as they learned to love and serve one another. They had met with God within the stone walls of the Temple, now they met him within the living stones of Jesus and the Christian community. They didn’t need monumental marble to mark out their sacred space; they made it themselves whenever they gathered together.

And this is still our calling; to be the “living stones” that make a Temple for our own time, a place where people can find God – not the only place of course, but one we deliberately make together.  

To live up to that calling to be living stones, we need to ask ourselves two questions about ourselves.

First are we “living”? That doesn’t just mean that being physically alive, with breath in our bodies and a steady heartbeat, though that’s a good start! We also need to be spiritually alive, alive with the life of God. That’s a hard thing to describe, but my experience is that we know it when we find it. It’s not about being happy or feeling that your life is all sorted out. It is more to do with knowing that you aren’t alone, whatever it is you are going through God is going through it with you, that you have access to strength beyond your strength. All sorts of things can get in the way of that. Resentment, anxiety and the burdens of unforgiven sin can all deaden us spiritually. But it is often when things are apparently going well for us that we are most at risk of dying spiritually. We get smug and self-satisfied. We think we are fine just as we are, that we have all we need. We close ourselves off to anything beyond us and we stop growing and reflecting. The good news is, though, that God is good at bringing the dead to life – this is the God who raised Jesus from death. He is good at turning stone into flesh. He promised the Prophet Ezekiel that he would take away hearts of stone and replace them with hearts of flesh. The first reading summed it up. “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy”. Through loving service, through the Bible, through prayer and worship and through one another God can bring us to life if we let him.

The second question we need to ask is about the stony part of that phrase. When we thought about stones earlier we saw they could be used for a lot of different purposes. A stone is just a stone until it is used for something. The “living stones” which the Bible talks about are very specifically meant to be put to use to build a Temple, joined to others to make a place where people can meet with God. A stone may be very fine, very beautiful, but on its own it can’t make a building. Of course we can live good and holy lives on our own, but we are called to do more than that. The stones God needs are the ones who are prepared to be committed to the wall, set in place next to others – perhaps not of their choosing - so that the whole structure can be strong, more than the sum of its parts. “Let yourselves be built into a spiritual house” says the reading. That’s why it matters that we come together, that we learn together, that we reach out together, because together we can build the generous place of welcome, the safe and holy space that we, and those around us, really need.

I don’t know what you will do with your stones, but I hope they will help you to think about your own calling, to be a living stone, alive with the life of God, part of a Temple that is big enough to welcome all who come to it.
Amen.

Patronal Festival: Living stones



“Like living stones, let yourselves be built into a spiritual house.”

I’ve given you all a stone today. You might like to hold it as you listen. You can take it home with you – in fact, please do! Put it somewhere special. Decorate it if you like, or don’t if you’d rather not.

Let’s ponder these stones for a moment, though. Each one is different – a different shape, colour and size. Some are smooth and round, some have rough edges where they have been broken at some point in their lives. I wonder where your stone came from, and what stories it could tell if it had a voice. Perhaps it was once part of a mountain. Perhaps it is limestone, built out of the shells of tiny sea creatures. Perhaps it has been at the bottom of the ocean, or the middle of a desert at some point in its long life. But now here it is, in your hand.

The Bible is full of stones, like the stony Middle Eastern landscapes which the people who wrote it knew. Of course, there is lush, green, fertile land in Israel, but there is also a great deal of desert, rocky wilderness in which life is tough.
Maybe it’s no surprise, then, that those make their way into so many Biblical stories.

In the Old Testament, Jacob uses a stone for a pillow when he lies down in the middle of nowhere and dreams of a ladder reaching from earth to heaven. He’s on the run from his family, having stolen his twin brother’s birthright, so he is amazed to find that God is still with him. He sets up the stone as a marker at the place he calls “Bethel” literally the “house of God”.

Stones were used as markers in other stories too. When the Israelites crossed the river Jordan into the Promised Land, God told each tribe to bring a stone to make a cairn. In times to come they would see it, and show it to their children and remember the journey – and the God who had rescued them. These weren’t the only stones in that journey.  The Ten Commandments were written by God on tablets of stone – another reminder of what the priorities of their new nation should be.

Stone was a symbol of permanence. It endured. It was solid. It said, “we are here to stay, and so is our God.”

Eventually the Israelites built themselves a stone Temple to worship in, replacing the temporary wooden structures that had gone before it. The altar was of stone too, unhewn stone, like a drystone wall. They weren’t to use chisels on it, presumably so they wouldn’t be tempted to carve images into it.

Of course, stones could also be instruments of death. David killed the Philistine giant Goliath with a sling-stone , and stoning was a common means of execution. Stones could make life tough in other ways too. The stony soil in the parable of the sower couldn’t nourish the seeds which fell on it. They sprang up, but then withered and died.
And stones could be barriers. The stone that was rolled across the mouth of Jesus’ tomb was meant to make sure his body stayed where it was. “Who will roll the stone away?” asked the women who came to the tomb to anoint Jesus. But God, it turned out, had that problem sorted out – stones were no barrier to him, any more than death was. I could go on. When you start looking for stones in the Bible you find them everywhere.

But let’s look at the readings we heard today. There were stones in both of them, but they were of a very different kind to the ones we are holding in our hands, very different from those other Biblical stones  I have been talking about. The stone in the Gospel reading was St Peter, one of our Patron saints. His name was really Simon, but Jesus called him Petros, the rock. The name is a signal that Peter will be part of the foundation of the new community he is building. We find the same idea in the first letter of Peter, which talks about “living stones”. The author almost certainly isn’t St Peter. It is too late and too elegantly written to be the work of a Galilean fisherman. But the person who wrote it might have given it his name because he had known and followed him. He certainly seems to have stones on his mind. He talks about Jesus as the cornerstone of a new building. The cornerstone is the stone all the others are lined up with. It is vital, but it is only the beginning. It isn’t a building on its own. And that’s where we come in, because we are called to be stones too, “living stones”, like Jesus, used by God to build with.

I was struck by this phrase “living stones” this week as I thought about this passage. It’s an odd phrase. I wondered whether it was a common metaphor at the time, or whether this writer had invented it. It seems that he probably did. It’s not used anywhere else in the Bible, and doesn’t seem to be used in this sense in classical literature either.

But his hearers would have understood what he meant, because it grows out of ideas that were very much in people’s minds at the time.

Both the Gospel and the letter were probably written at some point shortly after AD 70, the date when the Temple in Jerusalem was destroyed by the Romans. It was a huge crisis point for the Jewish people. This massive stone edifice had looked indestructible, as if it would stand forever, but the Romans had other ideas, and razed it to the ground. Today there is just one wall of it left, the Western or wailing wall, where Jewish people go to pray.

The Romans didn’t just destroy a building when they knocked the Temple down, though; they destroyed an entire religious system. Ancient Judaism was based on sacrifice. This was how you drew close to God. Now there was nowhere to sacrifice, so how were you to encounter God, to be strengthened, forgiven , healed? Some turned increasingly to their scriptures and their laws, and focussed on these – the Pharisees - but those who followed Jesus said that they’d met God in him, a flesh and blood person. Once he was no longer physically with them, they believed his presence could still be felt through his Spirit at work in their communities as they learned to love and serve one another. They had met with God within the stone walls of the Temple, now they met him within the living stones of Jesus and the Christian community. They didn’t need monumental marble to mark out their sacred space; they made it themselves whenever they gathered together.

And this is still our calling; to be the “living stones” that make a Temple for our own time, a place where people can find God – not the only place of course, but one we deliberately make together.  

To live up to that calling to be living stones, we need to ask ourselves two questions about ourselves.

First are we “living”? That doesn’t just mean that being physically alive, with breath in our bodies and a steady heartbeat, though that’s a good start! We also need to be spiritually alive, alive with the life of God. That’s a hard thing to describe, but my experience is that we know it when we find it. It’s not about being happy or feeling that your life is all sorted out. It is more to do with knowing that you aren’t alone, whatever it is you are going through God is going through it with you, that you have access to strength beyond your strength. All sorts of things can get in the way of that. Resentment, anxiety and the burdens of unforgiven sin can all deaden us spiritually. But it is often when things are apparently going well for us that we are most at risk of dying spiritually. We get smug and self-satisfied. We think we are fine just as we are, that we have all we need. We close ourselves off to anything beyond us and we stop growing and reflecting. The good news is, though, that God is good at bringing the dead to life – this is the God who raised Jesus from death. He is good at turning stone into flesh. He promised the Prophet Ezekiel that he would take away hearts of stone and replace them with hearts of flesh. The first reading summed it up. “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy”. Through loving service, through the Bible, through prayer and worship and through one another God can bring us to life if we let him.

The second question we need to ask is about the stony part of that phrase. When we thought about stones earlier we saw they could be used for a lot of different purposes. A stone is just a stone until it is used for something. The “living stones” which the Bible talks about are very specifically meant to be put to use to build a Temple, joined to others to make a place where people can meet with God. A stone may be very fine, very beautiful, but on its own it can’t make a building. Of course we can live good and holy lives on our own, but we are called to do more than that. The stones God needs are the ones who are prepared to be committed to the wall, set in place next to others – perhaps not of their choosing - so that the whole structure can be strong, more than the sum of its parts. “Let yourselves be built into a spiritual house” says the reading. That’s why it matters that we come together, that we learn together, that we reach out together, because together we can build the generous place of welcome, the safe and holy space that we, and those around us, really need.

I don’t know what you will do with your stones, but I hope they will help you to think about your own calling, to be a living stone, alive with the life of God, part of a Temple that is big enough to welcome all who come to it.
Amen.

Sunday, 21 June 2015

Trinity 3:Stilling the storms


 In this morning’s All Age Worship we talked a bit about a buzz word that seems to be all over the education world at the moment – the word “mastery”. It’s no longer enough, if you want your school to get an outstanding grade, to teach children simply information or skills, you have to get them to the level of mastery of those skills and information, so that they can use them in all sorts of different ways. Mastery is about having that knowledge deep inside yourself, so that it is almost second nature and you hardly have to think about it.

We thought about some of the skills we might have mastered in our lives; the ability to read and write, knitting, cooking, music and so on. We thought about the Medieval master masons and master carpenters who built this church, without power tools or sophisticated computer models. You couldn’t just call yourself a master craftsman in those days. It was a title you earned from your peers in your trade guild after serving a long apprenticeship and demonstrating that you had the skills you needed. You’d have to make something to show what you could do. This was literally your “master piece”. If it was good enough, you earned the right to the title of Master.

In our Gospel reading we meet a bunch people who might today be called Master Mariners. People who had grown up in and around boats, who were deeply familiar with them, able to handle them, knowing the waters of the Sea of Galilee like the back of their hands. It’s no surprise that when they see how tired Jesus is after a long day’s preaching and healing they feel completely confident in taking him into their boat – and that’s what they story said “They took him with them” – it is their initiative, their responsibility. They don’t expect him to do anything. This is their area of expertise. They may not be able to heal or preach, but they can sail, so Jesus can, for once literally sit back and relax. And that’s what he does. For some reason there is a cushion in the boat – this puzzles me for a working boat, so maybe it is an improvised cushion made out of cloaks simply to give Jesus a more comfortable sleep.
He can switch off completely – or at least that is the plan.

But then, as we hear, the wind gets up. Presumably the fishermen do what they would normally do under these circumstances – reef the sails, start baling and so on. But none of the tricks they use works. So they wake Jesus. Why? What do they think he can do? What use is a carpenter, even one who has a good sideline in teaching and healing, going to be? It just feels like he doesn’t care, though, and that seems to be what they want reassurance about. But with just a few words – not addressed to them, but to the storm itself – Jesus does far more than any of them could imagine.  In Greek, the words he says are “Siopa, pefimoso” – literally “Shh, shut up”. And that’s what the storm does.

It’s not so much the fact that the storm has been stilled which astonishes them, as who it is that has done this. In the Jewish scriptures, the sea was a symbol of chaos. In the beginning of the book of Genesis, God’s Spirit hovered over the water, bringing order out of the formlessness of the primeval ocean. God was the one who set bounds beyond which the water couldn’t pass, and who removed those boundaries when the flood swept the world away, all except Noah and his precious cargo. In the Psalm we heard, it is God alone who “stilled the storm to a whisper and quieted the waves of the sea,” God alone who ultimately brings us “to the harbour we are bound for.” Those Galilean fishermen knew their Psalms, and they would have picked up the allusion. If Jesus too could still a storm with a whisper” – siopa pefimoso – then who can he be?  Paul wrote to the Colossians that “in him all the fullness of the Godhead was pleased to dwell.” This is not just a carpenter, or just a healer or teacher, the story tells us, but the one who has mastery over the sea, like God himself, who can bring order out of chaos, peace in the midst of a storm.

The early Christians knew quite well that that didn’t mean he would make all the bad things go away. He went through death on the cross himself after all, and many of them were persecuted and killed for their faith. But this story reminded them that whatever storms raged about them, at the heart of their lives, if they were centred on Christ, there could be a peace that nothing could destroy.

We are – all of us – people of skill and ability, people who can do extraordinary things. But our mastery of the world and of ourselves is always going to be limited and partial. We all, at some point come up against storms which fling all our self-assurance back in our faces. Far too often we beat ourselves up when we come to the end of what we can do, as if, if we only tried harder or were cleverer we could get it sorted. The truth is, though, that these are the times when we need to remember that Christ is there in the boat with us, the one who is master of even the wind and the waves, and who can speak the words that still the storms and bring us to the harbour we are bound for.
Amen