Trinity Sunday – searching together for answers to the mysteries

Romans 8.12-17, John 3.1-17

Trinity Sunday, 30 May 2021, Clapham

And Jesus said to Nicodemus, ‘Are you a teacher… and yet you do not understand these things?’ [1]

Oh dear. Here I am, a preacher on Trinity Sunday charged with the task of trying to explain the mysteries of the Trinity to a congregation of believers. It’s a scenario which every preacher finds themselves in many times in our ministries. The scenario where we feel barely up to the task. 

‘Are you a teacher… and yet you do not understand these things?’ 

It’s a scenario which each of us, Christian believers, may face from time to time as in an increasingly non-Christian culture people look to us for understanding about the way we see God; as in a society where everything is questioned, people seek our particular perspectives. You may not think of yourself as a teacher; but as parents, grandparents, neighbours, friends, people do look to you and me to demonstrate the Christian way of life; and less often perhaps, but nevertheless, people will sometimes ask us to share what we know about Christ. And we may be understandably nervous about getting it wrong, for being found wanting in our example or our knowledge.

‘Are you a teacher… and yet you do not understand these things?’ 

I think Jesus liked Nicodemus. I’m sure he welcomed him into his little gathering late that evening. I think that when Jesus asked Nicodemus that question he was just teasing. Because Nicodemus had started the whole conversation, a rich conversation which gave Jesus the chance to give that beautiful one line explanation of the gospel which means so much to so many Christians: 

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. 

Nicodemus was a religious leader: I’d say a good model for anyone religious, be they ordained, unordained, preordained or just ordinary everyday faithful Christian people. 

Nicodemus was a good model because he came to Jesus with questions, and though that made him vulnerable to criticism, open to looking a little out of his depth perhaps, Jesus swept that vulnerability away, and gave Nicodemus so much more than he’d ever imagined he would see or hear on that occasion. Deep and deeper insights into eternal life. 

On Trinity Sunday we might relate to Nicodemus: we who recite the creed week by week, but who might pale if someone ever asked us to explain it in any detail. We’re not alone; for like any preacher honest about the limitations of their knowledge, so too every believer can rest secure that if we stay open to learning about God, secure knowing that God will keep feeding our insight and knowledge, giving us experiences which we can share. I’m sure you will recall experiences in life which have given you insights about God, the Trinity:

God the Father – the creator, the generator of life, the one to look up to. Maybe you feel especially close to The Father because of a love you have for creation, for nature in its details or in the great wide sweep of the heavens or the oceans; maybe you feel especially close to The Father because of your having had a good father who you learned so much from in life; maybe you feel especially close to The Father because of your own experiences of being a father, learning by trial and error how to be a good one.

You have experiences which have taught you about God the Son – Jesus, the prophet, preacher, healer. Maybe you’ve been influenced by people who have been inspired by this man: Christians who have lived out their lives in response to his calling – who have shown you how it is possible to love the neighbour, love the enemy; who have cared for the poorest and neediest, practically, in response to Jesus’ teachings to ‘do this to the least of these, my children [so that you] do it to [him]’. Maybe Jesus has inspired you to perform acts of charity yourself, acts of grace; inspired by the feeding of the five thousand to open your door and share your food with strangers; inspired by the life of the disciples to embrace other believers and share in fellowship with them.

And you know about God the Spirit too – the one who Jesus sent to help us make the connection between ourselves and the Father. Maybe you’ve seen the Spirit at work, healing people, inspiring great teaching, inspiring humble but wonderful acts of love. Maybe you’ve been touched by the Spirit yourself, found yourself (in the words of John Wesley) ‘strangely warmed’ by the presence of God as you have prayed or worshipped, found yourself unusually provoked to go to someone to help them, to take a decision in faith. Recognised the Spirit at work within you.

‘Are you a teacher… and yet you do not understand these things?’ 

Well, yes, you can say, quite humbly, I am a teacher – inasmuch as by my actions I do influence other people; inasmuch as by my words, sharing my experiences and insights about the Father, Son and Spirit, I do educate others about who God is.

And, yes, you can say, quite happily, I do not understand these things – inasmuch as the entire mystery of God is beyond my reach as it is beyond everyone’s reach; I do not understand these things – inasmuch as the mystery of the Trinity, how God can be three persons and simultaneously One, is beyond human description. But although I may not understand all these things, I’m still seeking, still open to learning. And that being still open to learning, I can be a good friend, good guide, good teacher, to others who may be at different stages in their journey of life and understanding, but who are my companions nevertheless.

‘Are you a teacher… and yet you do not understand these things?’ 

Jesus’ light-hearted comment, far from being a put-down, was part of their ever-deepening conversation nudging Nicodemus towards a greater understanding of who God was in Jesus, of what God was doing through Jesus.  So, on Trinity Sunday, let’s not let the theological complexities of the historic creeds frighten us into silence about our faith – for you and I have experiences and insights of our own which can and will draw others towards Jesus. 

God the Holy Trinity, we thank you for the unity and fellowship which exists between you, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We thank you for showing us how your very different characters coexist together as one. On Trinity Sunday, help each of us your children to accept that the way we are will be different to the way other Christians are. Help us feel valued for being ourselves; help us cherish our own distinctiveness and our story. Encourage us that whilst the questions we have will be different to the questions other seekers have, we can join them in the search for answers to the great mysteries before us, and each benefit from making that search together. Amen

 

Note

This is a shortened version of On Trinity Sunday – Are you a teacher… and yet you do not understand these things?, preached in Somerset, 2015, in turn based on John 3 – Are you a teacher… and yet you do not understand these things? preached in Liverpool in 2008.

Speaking in other tongues: a way to right wrongs

Acts 2.1-21, John 16.4b-15

Pentecost, 23rd May 2021 – Austwick

[Show of hands] – who can speak a second language, or more than one language? 

[Say “Hello” in the language you speak…]

I have always admired those who can speak in a tongue not their own. It’s not my gift. I failed miserably in French at school, and in my first months at Cardiff University I soon realised that the Welsh Language course I’d enrolled on was consuming so much time that if I kept it up I’d fail all my other subjects… I dropped it, and focussed my literature studies instead on Welsh poets like Dylan Thomas who as you may know, wrote and recited his works in perfect BBC English.

So I admire those who can speak in tongues not their own. It seems to me this requires generosity and a measure of humility – a reaching outside of what is comfortable and familiar to us, towards others and their different ways of expressing their being.

Some may be motivated to speak a foreign language for business reasons, of course; others for family reasons like my wife who sweats over online Japanese lessons for the sake of a deeper relationship with our daughter-in-law and grandson; it may be something to do with deepening your sense of your own heritage, which is why I attempted Welsh, the mother tongue of some of my forebears. You may be culturally motivated, planning to visit a country that you’ve long been interested in and wishing to be able to converse with the locals. Or, it may simply be wanting to learn enough phrases to get by when travelling. Even I know konnichiwa and sayōnara.

But whatever the reason we speak these other tongues, when we do, there are benefits to the speaker and to those they’re speaking with. Experts tell us that bilingualism can improve your mental health: that ‘Language learning is exercise for the mind!’ Exercising your brain like this keeps your mind active, and can help you develop a better memory.

To me, the important lesson here is that speaking in the language of a culture you have immersed yourself in, not your own, will build your appreciation and understanding of different people and their ways of thinking. You’ll become a better, more rounded person as a consequence. It can even change you: for some who speak multiple languages comment on how they alter as a person depending on the tongue they’re speaking in: for example, you may not think you’re all that funny in English, but you could be a regular comedian in Italian! Reaching out in another tongue can introduce you to parts of your personality that you weren’t aware previously existed. [1]

When the day of Pentecost came, all of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

Why would the Holy Spirit give the disciples this particular gift on that particular day? He could have given them, say, the gift of healing, or to perform miracles; at that moment when Jerusalem was full of people feeling festive the gift of turning water into wine would have drawn people’s attention to the disciples and made them instantly popular. But the Spirit chose to give them the gift to speak in other people’s tongues – the tongues of the many tribes gathered there who were amazed to hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power, each in their own language.

Undoubtedly this showed how all people are invited to follow the way of Jesus, without restriction or constraint. But it worked on the disciples too, taking them out of themselves, causing them to reach out towards these foreign others in a strange and wondrous way.

Imagine the conversations they had that morning, and their effect. How much understanding the disciples gained of these people and their ways of thinking, who they had previously been separated from by language. How their appreciation of these foreign others would have changed, and the deep ways which these encounters would have changed them.

In the new awakenings of that astonishing morning these disciples may have remembered that when Jesus had told them about the Spirit coming he described him as the ‘Advocate’, a legal term meaning one who appears on behalf of another, an advocate in the sense of representative for the accused, a lawyer for the defence. ‘And when he comes,’ Jesus taught, ‘he will prove the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgement… about judgement, because the ruler of this world has been condemned.’ 

In this world we tend to stick to our tribes, speaking our mother tongues and keeping our distance from those who talk differently. It’s not just between languages, is it: it’s between dialects too, and the classes of people they represent. The world’s view of sin, righteousness, and judgment leads to persecution, scapegoating, and the use of violence against violence between people of different tongues. We see this today sadly writ large in the very same city where this Pentecost event took place, and at the root of every antagonism between different generations or between rich and poor in our desperately unequal world. [2]

The historical task of the Holy Spirit is to prove all this wrong, by testimony to Christ; for Christ is the counterexample. The world that crucified Jesus is wrong about sin and righteousness because it wrongly accused him of sin and refused to see the righteousness confirmed by God’s raising of Jesus, and the world is wrong about judgment because the verdict against Jesus has been reversed. [3]

Jesus’ way is the way of self-giving love in generosity of spirit towards others. It brings people together to learn a new language of human fellowship and cooperation. By the cross and resurrection the way of Jesus has overcome the way of the world which divides us. 

We must not be sentimental about this; it’s not a soft message we allow to comfort us for a moment then forget. For we must ask, what is the Holy Spirit doing in our world today? Surely the Holy Spirit is still working at proving the world wrong about sin and righteousness and judgement and showing the world the Jesus way. And we must know that he wants today’s disciples to be involved in this work of advocacy. Today’s disciples: that’s you and me. 

Is the Holy Spirit telling the churches that it’s time for us to learn another language, or to exercise those second languages we already know? That it’s time to take ourselves physically or metaphorically to where those people of other dialects go? 

Why yes, and all in the cause of reaching out beyond ourselves towards others, as Jesus did on the cross, breaking through the brutalising boundary walls of race and class and culture, to prove the world wrong about the way we can relate together and overcome our differences.

 

Notes

[1] Benny Lewis, 5 Unexpected Perks of Speaking Another Language. Fluent in 3 Months website.

[2] Campbell MacDiarmid, Israeli-Palestinian conflict explained: why is there violence in Gaza and Jerusalem? Telegraph, 18 May 2021; Eleanor Margolis, Culture wars between millenials and boomers distract us from fighting real inequality. inews, 25 April 2021.

[3] S. Mark Heim, Saved from Sacrifice: a Theology of the Cross, pp. 153-54. Quoted in Paul Nuechterlein, Girardian Lectionary, Pentecost B.

We are One? The call to be strong and benign

Acts 1.15-26 , John 17.6-19

The Seventh Sunday of Easter, The Sunday after Ascension Day

16th May 2021, Clapham

 

“Father, protect them in your name … so that they may be one, as we are one.”

A year ago there was a firm feeling that “We are One”, as we stood together outside on a Thursday applauding our NHS ‘heroes’ [2] at the height of that period in time when we were truly dedicated to keeping to the Covid rules and protecting each other for each other’s sake. But as we’ve since found, unity of that sort is hard to sustain. Self-interest, self-assertion is back: being our brother’s keeper went out of fashion sometime well before last Christmas.

But the church insists, We are One. Because Jesus asked his Father to make us one. The pursuit of unity is central to the way of Christ. We tread this path on difficult ground. It requires that we overcome our ideas of unity that aren’t modelled by Jesus and his Father, it leads us  into territory strange and maybe even frightening to us.

I’ve always been exercised by this challenge, having grown up in the divided sectarian city of Liverpool in the 1970s and influenced by the Anglican and Roman Catholic leaders Bishop David Sheppard and Archbishop Derek Worlock whose visionary, and at times sacrificial leadership inspired the city’s people to overcome their religious divides, so that by the time they retired it truly was a different place. 

Their friendship showed me how it is possible to overcome our human instinct to unite against others who are not like us, those who belong to other tribes. I saw it again in later years when leaders on all sides of the Northern Ireland conflict found ways to sit at table together and – following years and years of stops and starts – arrived eventually at a unity.  And I have been most profoundly moved by the ongoing work of reconciliation between Jo Berry, whose father Sir Anthony Berry MP died in the IRA bombing of the 1984 Tory Party Brighton Conference, and Pat Magee, the IRA man who planted the bomb. 21 years after their first meeting and after since regularly  speaking together at conferences worldwide, they have not reached a point of complete reconciliation, and maybe never will, but they continue to journey together to seek an understanding of each other, or as Jo Berry puts it, “to recover some of of our humanity.” [3]

“Father, protect them in your name … so that they may be one, as we are one.” Protect them from thinking that unity in Christ demands any less than our reaching out of ourselves towards those unlike us, sometimes radically, sometimes sacrificially.

When it comes to seeking unity around a particular issue – in the Church of England today that may be same-sex marriage – some Christians exercise their strong identity characterised by hostility towards Christians holding different views; they’re energised by the fight against a common enemy: those on the opposite side of the argument.

Other Christians may express a benign but neutral attitude to such debates; congenial but passive, disinterested, displaying a politeness which might be masking a multitude of dislikes, and disapproval.

In a world where ‘things fall apart; the centre cannot hold’, the century-old words of WB Yeats sadly still seem to hold true when it comes to the church and its moral debates: ‘The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity.’ [4]

Unity based on a weak-benign identity lacks the depth to engage the challenges of resolving differences. And unity based on a strong-hostile identity just perpetuates hostility. 

Is there a third way in which we may find unity whilst embracing our differences? Can we develop a strong and benevolent identity? Strong – meaning firm in our faith, rooted in scripture and confident in God and in our own skin; and benevolent – meaning open to others outside our group, open to those with whom we may passionately disagree or whom we avoid, open to them in unaffected generosity of spirit. Surely this is God’s intention, who “created (us) for harmony with one another, in dynamic unity without uniformity – different but not divided, distinct but related and unified.” [5]

Jesus’ commanded us to love our neighbours and our enemies, to pray for our persecutors. He lived out those values in his relationships with all kinds of people and places, by bringing together around meal tables people who would never usually meet. On the cross he demonstrated his love for all. Crucial for Jesus was his relationship with his Father, cultivated in prayer, a constant conversation, a deepening understanding. The remarkable centrepiece of John’s gospel is this extended heartfelt prayer of Jesus expressing his deep desire that those who have been drawn together by him may enjoy that same unity with the Father that he enjoys. 

This strong love, this complete openness to the Father, is the foundation of a strong and benevolent identity, in which we believers, united in God, despite all our differences, can embrace each other in unconditional love.

“Christians often feel embarrassed by conflict and seek to avoid it. Our great diversity and the tensions over our differences can seem debilitating. Yet God is always in the midst of conflict, prompting bridge-building and transformation because the life of God is shaped towards reconciling.” – It’s good to see that the Anglican Church has recently launched Reconciliation Initiatives, a programme of training aiming to “equip Anglican Christians and their communities to handle disagreement more confidently and skilfully, and to be agents for reconciliation in wider society.” [6]

And just now in the Church of England we are being asked to engage together over questions about identity, sexuality, relationships and marriage. [7] “What does it mean to live in love and faith together as a Church” around the question of same-sex marriage? Some may start out passionately strong and hostile in our opinions on this, others may be disinterestedly weak and benign; we may be impatient for change or unsure of where we stand, but for all of us in our diversity it’s a conversation we need to have. 

May the Father, who created us for harmony with one another, guard us against those fallen forms of unity which divide and destroy our relationships with his good earth and its people. May he unite us in a love for others which breaches the barriers between us; may he make us strong and benevolent believers, confident in our relationships with each other, with our Lord Jesus, and with him. Amen.

John Davies

Notes

[1] This sermon draws on We are One? Cultivating the strong-benign identity, preached at Queen Camel, 2016, a revision of Being One, ‘as we are one’, preached at Sutton Montis and Weston Bampfylde, June 2014.

[2] Charlotte Higgins, Why we shouldn’t be calling our healthcare workers ‘heroes’. Guardian, 27 May 2020.

[3] Wikipedia: David Sheppard, Wikipedia: Derek Worlock; Jonathan Powell, Talking to Terrorists: How to End Armed Conflicts and Great Hatred, Little Room: Making Peace in Northern Ireland;  Jo Berry and Pat Magee: The Forgiveness Project

[4] WB Yeats, The Second Coming, 1919.

[5] Brian D. McLaren, Why Did Jesus, Moses, the Buddha, and Mohammed Cross the Road?, p.95-96. 

[6] Reconciliation Initiatives.

[7] The Church of England, Welcome to the Church of England’s Living in Love and Faith website.

After saying ‘goodbye’: A poem for Ascension Day 

The ascension describes how Jesus said goodbye.

How do we say goodbye: at the doorstep, at the schoolgates, to our work colleagues, to our friends and family, on ordinary days and on extraordinary days (new school, holiday departures, at a funeral etc).  What do we say on those occasions?

Look again at how Jesus said goodbye: he commanded his disciples to go out and make disciples, (Matthew 28.19-20) and promised the Spirit to help us (Luke 24.29)…..

 

On her last day at school her ‘goodbyes’ were sad; 

She left her friends at the gates with a tear. 

She was worried about all the new things she’d face: 

New people, new teachers, with fear. 

 

But it didn’t take long for her fear to give way; 

Felt she no longer needed to cry. 

Making new friends, she enjoyed her new school 

And here’s the reason why:

There’s joy, and a promise of new life from God 

That comes after saying ‘goodbye’.

 

The caterpillar’s mum said, “One day you’ll change; 

You’ll no longer be able to crawl.” 

The caterpillar enjoyed having one hundred legs, 

Didn’t want to say ‘goodbye’ to them at all. 

 

But it didn’t take long for his sadness to go; 

As he became a bright butterfly. 

He couldn’t crawl any more but he could float in the air 

He fluttered and flew, and here’s why:

There’s joy, and a promise of new life from God 

That comes after saying ‘goodbye’.

 

Dad didn’t want his son to leave home. 

“We are good friends,” he said, “I’ll miss him: 

I don’t know who else would take me out each day 

To the gym, then the pub, then the gym.” 

 

But before long Dad’s sad goodbye turned to cheer 

As he heard his first grandchild’s first cry. 

Suddenly his family had become full again 

And here’s the reason why:

There’s joy, and a promise of new life from God 

That comes after saying ‘goodbye’.

 

As they followed Jesus up a high hill 

His disciples wondered aloud 

What he would do next, then they watched amazed 

As his feet disappeared in a cloud 

 

He’d told them to spread his good news around, 

He’d send the Spirit to help them to try. 

So they were not sad, they danced and they sang 

And here’s the reason why:

There’s joy, and a promise of new life from God 

That comes after saying ‘goodbye’.

 

Note

Based on my original talk After saying goodbye, Croxteth, Ascension Day 2004.

How can we withhold the water?

Acts 10.44-48, Psalm 98, John 15.9-17

The Sixth Sunday of Easter 9th May 2021 – Christian Aid Week

Keasden

The climate crisis is having a significant impact on communities in Kenya. The main problem is the lack of access to a reliable source of water to help them withstand the unpredictable weather made worse through the climate crisis.

The weather has become more extreme. Drought has become more frequent and intense, resulting in millions of people being short of food as they are unable to grow crops. In parts of Kenya in 2020, drought was followed by relentless rainfall and flooding, which damaged crops that had struggled to grow.

With no access to reliable water sources or a way to capture rainfall, many communities are struggling to survive. This is  Rose’s story.

Rose is caught in a cycle of climate chaos. From severe drought to flooding, extreme weather robs her of what she needs to survive: a reliable source of water. Without water, every day is a struggle. Without water, Rose is thirsty and hungry. This is her climate crisis.

‘When I was a young girl, there was plenty of food,’ Rose says.

Now, the rains are totally unreliable. The climate crisis has galvanised extreme weather and Rose’s community are feeling the brunt of it. For months at a time, Rose lives with drought.

‘I often feel hungry,’ Rose says. ‘Because of climate change, I worry a lot about food. I pray to God that the rainfall will become normal like it used to be.’

In recent years, the drought has been so bad that it’s caused a hunger crisis. Crops wither and die. Rivers run dry. People struggle to survive.

Rose strives to provide for her grandchildren who live with her. She does all she can to give them happy childhoods, but the climate crisis is driving her to the brink.

In times of drought, Rose sets out on a long and dangerous journey every morning to collect water for her family. She walks on an empty stomach.

The coronavirus pandemic has only increased the urgent need for families to access a reliable source of water for handwashing.

In Kitui county, eastern Kenya, 8 out of 10 people depend on water to grow crops, for food and to earn a living. Without a reliable water source, staple crops like maize and beans are damaged and destroyed.

The lack of water forces people to walk further and further to find a dependable source. Cows, sheep and goats are becoming weak without access to water, and can’t produce milk or be sold. People are struggling to cope. Lives are at risk.

‘We have to walk long distances. We are suffering,’ Rose said.

While she walks, her stomach gives her stabbing pains. She feels weary under the hot sun. But if she gives up, her grandchildren will suffer hunger and thirst.

With a dam full of water, Rose would be free from her long, painful journeys. She’d have time to grow fresh vegetables for her family to eat. And she could see her grandchildren grow up and live life in all its fullness.

The theme of water runs through Rose’s story, and so many other unheard stories from Kenya – both a lack of water and a destructive abundance of it. Drought and flood are part of the climate chaos and the associated erratic weather patterns being experienced by communities in Kenya. These communities depend on a reliable water supply for their livestock and livelihood, as outlined in the stories on the previous pages.

In our passage from Acts today we hear Peter saying, ’Can anyone withhold the water for baptising these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?’ Can anyone deny the right to make visible the work of the Holy Spirit? Augustine described sacrament as ‘an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace’, and so in baptism water makes visible the work of the Holy Spirit.

For those of us who experience a plentiful supply of rain, it may be harder to appreciate the true blessing of water. Rain as a blessing is particularly understood by communities who experience drought and increasingly erratic rainfall patterns due to climate chaos. How then ‘can anyone’ – particularly those of us who are baptised, in the generous Spirit of God – ‘withhold the water’ needed for thirsty animals, crops and people across the world? 

This Christian Aid Week, we can be part of the answer to Peter’s question. Through our generosity, we can help ensure the much-needed water is not withheld from Rose’s community. Through our support of Christian Aid in their actions for justice, we can help ensure that the systems that perpetuate climate injustice are changed and a reliable supply of water can be made available to all who need it.

 

Based on material provided by Christian Aid

www.christianaid.org.uk

info@christian-aid.org

020 7620 4444

Christian Aid, 35-41 Lower Marsh, London SE1 7RL