Tuesday 15 October 2024

“I will give you rest”

 

“I will give you rest” –

A Sermon for Evensong on Sunday 13th October 2024



In this evening’s Gospel reading[1], we were given another reminder of Jesus’ offer of spiritual rest and refreshment. It is my belief that those who come seeking God through the Church are, above all else, nearly always in search of that rest and refreshment.

In tonight’s reading, we first hear Jesus denouncing those places where he has performed miracles. He is doing this, in part, because of their lack of response. It would be easy for us to hear in his words a call to greater activity.

Response. Activity. Most often for us, the two things become one and the same. But what if the kind of response Jesus is calling those communities towards is something very different indeed? What if we don’t hear his words through 21st Century corporate ears, but instead through the ears of an older, more devoted age? I wonder if as Jesus is denouncing those places where he has performed those miracles, he is challenging them not to return to their lives of busyness and corruption, instead inviting them to allow the love of God to transform their communities into something more?

What if some of the frustration we hear coming through Jesus’ words, a frustration so understandable after he has poured out so much of himself into their communities; what if that frustration is based on his call to them not returning to the mundane busyness of their lives, but to something deeper instead?

Maybe, if Jesus’ words and actions had transformed those communities, they would have recognised the folly of their fraught, feverish and frenzied living, and begun to replace it with lives of peace, rest and refreshment. Not lives without anything to do, but lives filled with purpose and order precisely because of their individual and corporate focus upon God – lives marked by gentleness and holy tranquillity. 

Our neighbouring bishop, Dr Guli Francis-Dehqani, the Bishop of Chelmsford, has been in the press recently following a lecture she delivered at the Festival of Preaching in Cambridge a few weeks ago.[2] In that lecture she describes the weariness that she has discovered among clergy and congregations in her diocese since taking up post. She speaks of anxiety created from unreasonable workloads and expectations coming from both local and central pressures. She associates an awful lot of the weariness and anxieties as being created by the Church of England’s preoccupation with growth at all costs…

She goes on to suggest that very preoccupation, that frenzied activity that central church is calling everyone to in order to avert their fears and the inevitable decline that they have convinced themselves of, is actually causing that very decline – or at least accelerating it. Perhaps, if we were to take the foot off the gas a little people may well be drawn to us all the more, precisely because we become places of rest and refreshment instead.

Some of the stuff - these are my words not hers – some of this stuff we see coming from the centre can seem almost faux-Gospel (anti-Gospel). Why? Because when we look below the surface we see that it is ladened with guilt and fear, or a combination of both. There is often a ‘carrot and stick’ approach. ‘We need to see quick gains, action plans and initiatives or else you might lose your priest…or else you will be worse off and you will not be thought as well of as those down the road who are doing better. However, if you have a plan that can convince us that you will be able to bring about disproportionately quick growth, and we don’t much mind what this will entail, then here’s a huge sack of money to help you along the way’… Carrot – and – Stick. Fear, Anxiety, Guilt.

These things do not come from the Gospel of Christ. These things come from a different actor. Thank God for Bishop Guli being the first one to be brave enough among the bishops to openly speak out against it. It is a shame that the authorities in the central church chose to give her a dressing down for not keeping to ‘script’ when she first spoke of these things at her Diocesan Synod shortly after coming to office – something she openly talks about in her lecture. I think I am pretty clear in my mind which persons the Spirit is working through.

It is so easy to focus on what is missing, and so we should forgive those who find themselves in places of central authority, enveloped by anxiety and fear as they feel the weight upon their own shoulders to bring about results. When they look at the figures, the spreadsheets and the pages of accompanying analysis, why wouldn’t they be filled with fear? And relying on all that their lives in business have taught them, why wouldn’t they look to all kinds of management theories and initiatives to try and turn the tide? We can surely understand all this, because it is so easy only to focus on what appears to be missing or going wrong. Yet, what we see when we take a step back is that such focus, whether in the business world or in the life of the Church, eventually only ever creates a kind of feverish and frenzied fear which feeds the inevitable decline – not to mention the untold damage it does to individuals and communities.

Decline - Fear – Frenzied Activity – Decline, an ever-decreasing circle. Tonight’s Gospel suggests we are called to something different, does it not? Maybe, in tonight’s Gospel, we can see what we have been missing for so long.

You see, the world of the past few decades has seen change at unprecedented levels – people are less likely to stay in the same community for as long, families are far more likely to split up, individuals have far less job security, homes are no longer lived in for a lifetime – and we haven’t even touched on the accelerated change brought about by computers, the internet, social media and artificial intelligence. This has all propelled a pace of change in society that we could barely have imagined just ten years ago.

Is the Church called to inhabit that same pace of change? Or is it called to be an oasis for people to find when their souls are wearied? Is the church called to a different kind of presence? God has a concern for the marginal spaces and for those who feel on the margins. For many, a fear of failure places them on the margins. A fear of not being able to keep up with this fast pass of change puts people on the margins. Levels of anxiety and depression in our society are at an all-time high – and is there any wonder at it. It’s not just our young people, but people of every age.

Where do they find the space to be fed, nurtured and cared for. Where do they get the permission to just stop and bask in something enriching of their souls? What if, amidst all the fevered activity of the world, our churches and their communities offered something more life giving and refreshing?

To my mind our churches should and could be places where people can encounter a stilling and grounding peace. The kind of peace only to be found among the people of God.

The word ‘Mission’ in our current age has become badly misunderstood. ‘Mission’ has come to imply feverish activity, getting people in through the doors and their bums of pews at any cost whatever. Yet, ‘Mission’ properly understood should mean a drawing of people more deeply into the gathered ecclesial community. That is the kind of mission we find in the New Testament. Mission should be seen as the drawing of people into the Church as a place where the wanderer and the weary can find their rest and be refreshed by basking in the stilling presence of God.

What an attraction that might be to a world obsessed by fast passed everything…

‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’[3]

R. T. Parker-McGee 2024



Tuesday 1 October 2024

‘I only pray to God when I need a favour’ - Prayer

 

‘I only pray to God when I need a favour’ - Prayer

Trinity 18 - James 5.13-20; Mark 9.38-50



I know this will surprise you all, but I have finally got to that age where I can no longer listen to Radio 1. Radio 2 occasionally replaces it in my eclectic soundwave selection, but even that can be a struggle. More often than not, it is talk radio that grabs my attention, a combination of Times Radio, LBC, Radio 4 or Radio 5. Sometimes, when I need to chill, it’s Classic FM, but to even my surprise, I have recently become a convert of Country Music. When all else fails to hit the spot, I find myself listening to Smooth Country. I know, right! Mid-life crisis or what?  

Now, there is a modern Country artist whose name, I kid you not, is Jelly Roll (though, I doubt that is the name he was christened with). The other day, as a turned the radio on, Jelly Roll was singing a song called ‘Need a Favour’, and this song’s lyrics are fascinating. It goes something like this: ‘I only talk to God when I need a favour. And I only pray when I ain’t got a prayer. So, who the hell am I to expect a Saviour? Oh, I only talk to God when I need a favour. But God I need a favour!’[1]

These catchy lyrics are really clever. They cut right to the bone of what, I’m guessing, is so many people’s experience of prayer – it is certainly mine, all too often.

How many of us leave prayer to the last minute or as a last resort? How many of us only really return to prayer as a final straw, once we have exhausted all other options?

In the fifth chapter of his letter, St James is trying to encourage in us a different approach. ‘Are any among you suffering? They should pray. Are any cheerful? They should sing songs of praise. Are any among you sick? They should call the elders (priests) of the church and have them pray over them, anointing them with oil in the name of the Lord…’[2]

In any given situation, our own endeavours can only take us so far. Sooner or later, it is only prayer that can bring the kind of holistic resolution of goodness that we crave.

As St James continues: ‘The prayer of faith will save the sick, and the Lord will raise them up; and anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven’.[3]

As some of you know, the Parker-McGee’s had a rather tumultuous year last year. 2023 was probably one of the most taxing our family has known to date. In our darkest moments, one thing kept us strong – your prayers. I know that can sound like a platitude, but it is true. When we had exhausted all of our own abilities, it was then that we felt both mystically and tangibly held in the most profound way by the prayers of the Diocese, the Monastery, and of these parishes. I can’t explain it, yet it was certainly true. And all of us in the family felt it. So Thank you – your prayers really work!

I have a strong faith. I ordinarily feel a close connection to God in most situations and I have always been an advocate for saying that prayer works. I have seen it often enough in others. Be this as it may, our experience last year was on a completely different level - as though we were being carried by countless invisible wings of angels yet unseen.

Perhaps this reveals something else about prayer that we sometimes misunderstand. In the Gospel of St John, Jesus says “Remain in me and I will remain in you”.[4] Too often, we consider prayer to be of our making, in our control. Prayer only happens when we pray, right? Wrong!

We often approach prayer as though it were a shopping list of things for God to do, as though he needed reminding and isn’t already on the case. How silly of us. God already knows what needs doing and he is working that out for the best, not in the limited way our unimaginative agendas would have things go, but in infinitely better divine proportions. We come with our list of items to be bought cheaply from Aldi, when God is already filling his trolley at Waitrose (other premium supermarkets are available!). So perhaps we need to think again about what prayer really is.

To properly understand prayer, it’s helpful for us to go all the way back to the story of creation, to that period when God creates all things into being.

But, first a caveat. Now, this may sound somewhat controversial, but its important. When reading the creation narratives in the first few chapters of Genesis, we have to ask ourselves what is literal fact and what is allegorical device to help with deeper meaning and understanding. For instance, when the author speaks of the ‘days’ of creation, do they really mean periods of 24 hours or are they referring instead to less precise but nonetheless clearly discernible stages in the process of creation?  We might ask, for example, how can there be a day of 24 hours, before a day is even created? Is it plausible that the ‘first day’ actually refers to a discernible period of change which may have taken many years in our present understanding of time? Might the association of this period to a day be a textual construct employed by the author of the text to help the reader better understand? Just a thought!

Anyway, casting our minds to those narratives, how does Genesis tell us creation took place? Well, God spoke the universe into being and he breathed the Holy Spirit over it to give it life. God spoke with divine breath. That is fundamentally what prayer is – divine communication. It is that same divine communication that continues to keep all things moving in the right direction, bringing light out of darkness, good out of evil and life out of death. It is in God that we have our life and our being.

Our all-loving and caring God is constantly speaking words of love into creation. Love is always creative. It builds up and enables things to thrive. It overcomes darkness and brings light, just like the formation of the sun at the beginning of time. God does this through his divine communication. Properly understood, when we pray, we are simply stepping into that divine communication.

The English Bishop and Theologian, John V. Taylor, use to think of mission as ‘finding out what God is up to and joining in’.[5] To be truly engaged in mission, then, is to be deeply rooted in prayer, not activity.  When we are consciously praying, we become intimately and corporately swept up in the creative power of God’s divine communication and are carried along on the breeze of what God is up to. To pray is to live life as it is meant to be lived.  

This means that we do not need the right words or phrases. We can simply step into it at any moment. All we need is a little intentionality – to switch our focus from the material to the mystical – to invite God into our focus. To step into the stillness of the divine presence and allow him to take control.

This is how we access the divine power of which Jesus speaks of in today’s Gospel reading.[6] ‘No-one’, he says, ‘who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us’.[7]

So, not to contradict the inestimable Jelly Roll, although it is not ideal to ‘only pray when we need a favour’, we all have to start somewhere, and there is never a time when we ‘haven’t got a prayer’ because the divine communication of God is always ongoing. All we need do is find the headspace to join in.

Prayer is about more than just the words we use. It is the place where our head is at. If we can, more and more, connect with that prayer that is already ongoing as the divine communication of God and the lifeforce of the world, then our lives and the world itself will be far better place for it.

Amen.

R.T. Parker-McGee 2024



[1] Jelly Roll, ‘I need a Favor’, 2023

[2] James 5:13

[3] James 5:14

[4] John 15:4

[5] John V. Taylor, The Go Between God, 1972

[6] Mark 9:38-end

[7] Mark 9:39-40