SERMON PREACHED AT
ZILLMERE PARISH
YOUTH MASS, EVE OF TRINITY
(25 May) 1999
“WHY BOTHER?”
Reading: John 6.60-69
Words of
eternal life?
What happened to Peter? He
is full of contradictions. He is full of bravado, full of an incurable belief
in his own ability, full of self-worth, yet full of insecurity. In the end he
is full too of seemingly ultimate cowardice and failure. First to profess his
loyalty to Jesus, he is conspicuous in his categorical denial of him, too. “Lord
I will follow you even if it should cost you my life” (Jn. 13.37) with one breath,
then “I tell you, I never knew the man” (Jn. 18.25) with the next. Here he is
seeing the essence of Jesus’ ministry: “Lord to whom we should go, your words
are the words of eternal life.” In the end he is to be full of seemingly
ultimate cowardice and failure, yet as the gospel writers knew, and as the first
hearers of the gospel knew, he was in the end the “rock on whom Christ’s Church
was built.” This man who failed so utterly, so conspicuously after so desperately
wanting to succeed, this man becomes the bearer of leadership in the embryonic
community of faith.
Mind you, he was prickly.
Peter and that other prickly character, Paul, the later convert to
Christianity, spent most of their careers at each other’s throats. The politics
of apparent hatred so perfected by the Howards, Beazleys, Beatties, and
Borbridges[1] of
the world was not unique to our era. Glimpse between the lines of the records
of Paul and Peter struggling for their vision of Christianity and we see real,
red blooded, feisty opponents struggling for dominance of the Christian mind. “As
for these agitators” says Paul, “Would that they would castrate themselves”
(Gal 5.12). Peter was more polite: “Paul our friend and brother ... whenever he
writes of salvation, write some obscure passages” says Peter through clenched
teeth (2 Pet. 3.16).
Red blooded: I wonder if
that’s it? There is so much that is saccharine in our society - and no less so
much that is saccharine in contemporary Christianity. Contemporary? It’s
had its saccharine elements at least since the fourth century, when the emperor
Constantine declared Christianity to be an official religion of the Roman Empire.
From that time on Christianity ran and often succumbed to the risk of becoming
complacent - or worse, powerful and arrogant. How far a cry this was from
the struggling, powerless but feisty understandings of Peter, Paul, and Jesus
himself. The red blood has been sapped out of Christianity (D.H. Lawrence noted something like this in 1905), and much of the
spirit dwindled into triviality.
But fear not! No longer
are we living in an era when it is chic or comfortable to be Christian. For
you Christianity is a challenge, demanding commitment. The Church today in
Australia is facing at least three forms of persecution.
1. A
bitter lesson I learned out of my time in the ABC was the ease with which
mainstream Christianity is marginalized. I was employed by the Religious Department
of ABC Radio primarily to present the complexities of theological debate to the
Australian public. While I had always known that it is not the task of the ABC
to promote Christianity, I was amazed how quickly that Christianity and its concerns
were shouldered aside. I spent time interviewing witches, druids, Roshis, Imams
and Rabbis, and tended to interview representatives of the Christian faith
only when they were defending the role of the Church in sexual abuse scandals,
financial or numerical collapse. I interviewed some great representatives
of credible Christianity; but attempts to get work like that to
air, and the defences I had to establish against criticism that
such representatives of Christianity were “boring” and ”old hat,” soon
wore me down.
2. Media
portrayals of mainstream Christianity are by and large mocking. On the whole
clergy and worshippers are portrayed in entertainment as doddery and/or bigoted.
An ABC Compass documentary in 1995 portrayed the entire Anglican Church of
Australia as bankrupt, aged and corrupt. Because I was one of many
representatives of other aspects of Anglican Christianity interviewed and
discarded for that dokko, I am aware how jaundiced its agenda was. It was not
atypical.
3. Then
also, like the early Church, we face a threat of relativism. Choose your truth, rub the tricky bits out of
the Christian story - if it’s intellectually difficult, and rid your selves of
it. Resurrection, the Trinity;
[SING “WILL YOU COME AND FOLLOW ME.” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P8lOfMjtxdE]
Some years ago,
following the Port Arthur tragedy, Anne was told that while the
opening verses which speak of the experiences of suffering are fine,
the resurrective, hope-filled final verses were too simplistic
is to deny the gospel of its entire meaning. It is incredible
twentieth century arrogance to assume that St. Paul was a naive first century
fool when he told his people “If there is no resurrection then we are to be
more pitied than all people.” We are bearers of a word of hope, and that
ii itself is a sign to our community that can transform lives from darkness
into light.
Peter was feisty. The
gospel stories concentrate largely on his failings.
Constantly he
gets it wrong, tries too hard, tries to do in all
in the strength of his own power, tries to demonstrate to Jesus
that he really is the smart guy. In our gospel reading just now Jesus poured
out an incredible human pain: So he asked the twelve disciples: “And
you, would you like also to leave?” Many had already. The rough edges of
the way of the cross were too much for them to take. Peter though responded
with what we tend to think was the right answer: “Lord, to whom would we go? You
have the words that give eternal life. And now we believe and know that you are
the Holy One who has come from God.”
Yet he too was soon
to desert Christ. Peter’s desertion was no less of a failing than the betrayal
of Judas. Jesus replied sadly: “I chose the twelve of you, didn’t I? Yet one
of you is a devil.” He was, as our narrator said, referring to Judas Iscariot.
But the only other person who gets called “Satan” or “a devil” in the gospels,
is Peter himself. “Get behind me, Satan”, says Jesus, when bravadoed Peter once
more tries to stop Jesus from taking the lonely, broken way of the Cross.
Only when Peter was
finally utterly, utterly broken does he finally become the ne to whom Jesus
commands the humble yet earth-changing task “Feed my sheep.” Only when we are
broken can we truly be bearers of the living, loving God.
You and I are called to
suffer. We’ll say that together later in this mass. We are called to the way of
the Cross, and that is a way of challenge and suffering, as well as joy and
exhilaration. By being a people of faith we are called to rise, though not in
our strength to be a sign to our world. The people of Israel, our ancestors in
faith, were called out of Egypt not because they were particularly nice
people, but because they were a people in pain; God chose to encounter them and
breathe into their pain a sign of hope not only for them but for all people.
And you and I are called to be Christ bearers in the same way. Peter wasn’t
holy or nice. I’m not holy or nice. You’re probably not, either. But amidst all
the darkness that we live amongst - amidst the dark pressures of education,
sexuality, racism, unemployment and chemical (drug and alcohol) abuse, to name
just a handful, we are called to shine a different light.
Even our worship must be
different. So much that is Christian seeks to be noisier, “funner”, brighter than the
brightest lights of Dreamworld, sports extravaganza, but in the end
risks producing only another form of noise, fun, neon or laser
brightness. Peter’s mistake was to attempt to be a laser show for Jesus. Our
responsibility is to be a people of contrast: amidst the noise, sow silence.
Amidst the bustle, stillness. Amidst the false brightness, the laser shows of
advertising, sports, entertainment, designed as they are to hide a deeper
darkness of loneliness and emptiness, we are called to shine an unspectacular
natural light of peace. Amidst the dog eat dog world of commerce and profit we
are called to offer justice and compassion.
Peter learned that himself
only when he was broken. Only then he became the person of love commissioned to
build a Church of Contrast. We must likewise allow ourselves to be transformed
as Paul put it into the likeness of Christ - changed into a people who contrast
quietly, not imitate noisily, the emptiness of our world.
And to that end we place
at the heart of our celebration this day the communion. In a world that only
does things that taste good, produce good money, or are spectacular, we shall
simply break plain bread, be still, and allow an unusable and quiet Spirit of
God to touch our lives again. The challenges are great. The rewards are God’s
infilling of our hearts so that we no longer yearn for meaning, but instead
become bearers of meaning to the world around us. Peter learned that
eventually.
“Simon Peter, son of John,
do you love me?”
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