gospel hope renewed

 

SERMON PREACHED at St MARY’S, OAMARU
and at St ALBAN’S, KUROW
30th ORDINARY SUNDAY (October 25th) 2020



READINGS

Deuteronomy 34: 1-12
Psalm 90: 1-6, 13-17
1 Thessalonians 2: 1-18
Matthew 22:24-36

 

As you probably know well, Jesus is in our gospel-scene (Matthew 22:24-3) engaged in a series of conflicts with the religious elite of his day. While acknowledging the complexity of his time, our first task may well be to determine who might be the equivalent in our own time and space? Who today might be the “religious elite,” who seek to destabilise and dismantle the signs of God’s action in the world? The answer, I suggest will change from generation to generation, but, amongst the litmus tests we might apply, is the question, “who dismantles hope, who dismantles justice, who dismantles compassion in the world in which God has called us to live?”

Taking a leaf from Jesus’ own book I might not altogether provide an answer, but I will suggest, contrary to those who see governments and secular authorities as the enemy of the, that God is far more concerned in the twenty-first century with those who play games with faith, who profess a faith that exploits and burdens its adherents.

This is not to say God is disinterested in the organizations that perpetrate corruption outside the mantle of faith: governments that exploit, persecute, corrupt those in the care are not nonchalantly ignored by the God of Hebrew and Christian Testaments. But time in such matters tends to move more slowly than we mere humans might wish, but it has been the pattern of history that tyrants overreach, that empires crumble; the Ozymandiases and other tyrants of history have always eventually seen their hopes dashed and their golden cows melted. perhaps one remarkable example in our lifetime has been the dissolution of the corruptions of apartheid South Africa. Perhaps for other reasons we are currently witnessing the frightening spectacle of God’s wrath turned on the exploitative capitalist greed of the United States Empire, seeing the American experiment turned over to the ramifications of its own lust for power.

Which is not, incidentally, to say that there has not been great goodness in the history of the United States – and of course of many individuals with its realms – but rather to say that, having attained untrammelled power, it, like the Sadducees and the Pharisees, has not turned its might to the compassion and justice that are the hallmark of the God in whom it claims to trust.

All of which is far from removed from life in in provincial or rural Kiwiland! So let’s come back to us in a moment. We are a small country; exploitation of the sort maintained by the Sadducees and, at least in the biblical telling, the Pharisees, is not a huge characteristic of our country. Governments come and go, peacefully, with decency and grace by and large, and we like some and not others. Forms of exploitation and corruption exist of course: those who entrap others in cycles of sexual or chemical abuse, those who victimise children, those who exploit the vulnerable.

Many, sadly, dress their evil up in the finery of religion – and I don’t just mean the robes and titles of the formal liturgical churches, but the heavy burdens that are laid on believers’ shoulders by so-called “free” or “free-form” churches and those who emulate them. There are many forms of oppression and exploitation, from sexual and financial exploitation, victimisation, belittlement, and countless other forms of spiritual hypocrisy.

None of this is good news, none of this is Gospel. Yet Jesus spoke into a similar culture. The Roman Empire – another that waxed and waned in the timespans of God – was corrupt. Jesus’ own religious milieu was corrupted by those – not all – who had become lackeys of Rome. There was much at which Jesus could and did point the finger, and pay for it with his life (though we would add, redeem by his resurrection).

So Jesus turns and addresses those who place impossibly heavy burdens on the shoulders of the vulnerable. Jesus challenges those who steal from the hearts of simple women and men what we might call the hope of heaven, the hope of reunion with lost loved ones, the hope that death is merely a parenthesis on the journey to God. Religious leaders who refuse to offer relief because they see themselves as too sophisticated for simple beliefs, religious leaders who demand impossible time and financial commitments from their faithful – the list is endless.

There are many forms of “Pharisaism” and “Saduceeism” in the world and church today. Indeed, at its worst, the Church has been known for its Pharisaic rejection of the not brave enough, not good enough, not articulate enough, not middle class enough, and many other “enoughs,” known for these rejections far more than we have been known for our inclusive, all-embracing love and manaakitanga (hospitality).

But we are in a remarkable time of reformation. Jesus – we might say “in the form of the Spirit” which is by whom and through whom we encounter him – is challenging the Church today, stripping away its false securities and leaving us, like the Pharisees and Sadducees, silent in his gaze.

But that is not the end of the story. As I move around this diocese and elsewhere I am seeing exciting hints of renewal, no longer led by infrastructure, by paid clergy, social capital, some sort of social standing in society. I happen to be one that hopes we can hold on to our buildings so that they can become sanctuaries of peace in the midst of a chaotic world, but I may lose that battle.

More important though is you … you and me. More important is that we continue to break open scriptures together, using new spiritual gifts of Zoom and Skype if we want to, that we share the open table of bread and wine and other less liturgical forms of fellowship. That when there are times of loss and grief in our communities we can be just visible enough and never judgemental at all so that our hurting neighbours can find a shoulder to cry on and those without hope behind the obscenely high suicide statistics may find words of comfort and resurrection hope.

I am seeing pockets of this rebirth as I move around the traps. I hope in coming months to – with others – help little faith communities find other little faith communities, rural, urban, even “virtual.” To tell stories, share experiences and ideas and resources, to renew one another’s hope and strength in the Christ from whom the Pharisees and Sadducees turned silently away.

As 2020’s paroxysms continue to rock us I believe it is in this new movement of God’s spirit in ti­­ny churches and church communities that we will find the gospel hope renewed.