Prison Sunday

Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Jeremiah 29:10-14, Ephesians 2:1-10, Matthew 25:31-end

When describing the process of reading, the great German philosopher, Hans Georg Gadamer, described it as ‘a fusion of horizons’. His point was two-fold. First of all, Scripture is not facts. It’s not a list of true statements. All Scripture has a history – a past; It’s written by people, so it has a present – the circumstances and situations, the education, the mindset of its authors. And it has a future, a horizon – the expectations of the people of God. Hope, judgement, redemption.

And, we are on a journey. We have a past, experience; a context in family, education, upbringing, society. We exist in this fine, turning world, with its present preoccupations, which will be as impenetrable to those who follow, as the Great Wars are to most of us. And we have expectations, dreams, hope.

Secondly, the way we read, the effect what we read has on us, our ability to relate to what we read, is given by the fusion between the horizons of our journey and that of Scripture.

Sometimes this takes imagination. We can all enjoy a pirate story without ever having been a pirate. But the stories, the truths, that will really speak to us are those that most resonate with us. When there is that psychological connection, when we can fall in step with Scripture.

These are not necessarily the happiest, most charming moments. It’s a bit like all those teenage boys listening to dull, moody bands. ‘I need to hear some sounds that recognise the pain in me’ sang a depressive Northerner in the 90s. But it’s at that point of connection that either Scripture will speak to you, or it will sound foreign, antiquated, irrelevant or untrue.

Now to read any story that is more than 2000 years old requires a leap. To have faith you’ve also got to have a little imagination. Fortunately, the Bible has all sorts of characters with which we might identify, and do at different stages of life. At Christmas, every child has related to a baby Jesus or a shepherd girl.  Every parent has looked down and seen a little angel or a little sheep. There are the busy dwellers of Bethlehem, the young couple, a wicked king.  Any Herod’s out there today? Some ancients from afar, some weary animals. Truly something for everyone.

But Scripture is biased. There is a preferential slant and it’s not one you’d expect. It’s not toward Europeans who barely figure, still less to Americans. It’s not towards men, who while unsurprisingly dominant, are not wholly so, and in the New Testament are scandalously usurped at some of the most crucial times.

Scripture is biased; but it’s towards the poor.

The Law and the Prophets are unanimous in calling out the nation on its care for orphans, widows and the poor.  In the Torah these groups fall under the protection of God himself. Deuteronomy: ‘Cursed be anyone who deprives the foreigner, the orphan, and the widow of justice.’ And all the people shall say, ‘Amen!’ In Job and Psalms it’s the evil man who oppresses the poor. In proverbs: ‘He that oppresseth the poor reproacheth his Maker: but he that honoureth him hath mercy on the poor.’

So in the New Testament we should not be surprised to hear: ‘Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world. But even more than this the Incarnation, in a mean and lowly stable, in poverty and infamy, God is revealed in, God chooses, the lowest place. God is the saviour, the deliverer, the protector, not of the rich, but the poor. It’s the have-nots, not the have-yachts.

So it’s only when the good man Job is reduced to rags and boils that he beholds the glory of God; St Paul can say: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.’ So, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.  Therefore I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities for the sake of Christ; for whenever I am weak, then I am strong.’ Christ reveals God in suffering, humiliation and execution.

There will always be those who hunt for God in riches #blessed, but they will not find God, though they may find something else.

Poverty comes in many forms. St John of the Cross’ Dark Night of the Soul can be read as a theology of depression. Julian of Norwich’s visions came out of illness and withdrawal from the world. The Desert Fathers took themselves to the desert. The religious revivals of the nineteenth century sprung out of the Church going into the slums.

I do not want anyone to feel guilty for living in Putney, for having a job, for owning a house. One may very well be materially wealthy but poor by way of isolation, mental health, age, mobility, persecution, or other forms of limitation. And our wealth is part of our resources for service. But if God is with the poor, we shall have to encounter poverty to find God. We may do this through lockdown. We may attempt this in Advent or Lent. But ‘pure religion’ we heard is to support the vulnerable and those in need.

And for those of us with wealth it may be harder to read Scripture; harder to find that fusion of horizons, When God is first and foremost for the poor. it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.

Today’s Gospel, though, is a message for everyone. It shows us a horizon of justice that any of us can imagine as we look from our lives to eternity. And in this parable of judgement we have heard where we can find God: God is the man that is hungry. God is the woman who is thirsty. God is the stranger who needs shelter God is the child who needs clothing. God is the sick man in need of medicine. God is the woman in prison without a visitor.

The Gospel asks us to see the suffering that is in the world and to see God. To see human need and take it as our highest priority,  Our sacrifice and praise. Not to cut ourselves off from the homeless, the destitute, and especially on this prison Sunday, from those truly quarantined in prison.

Churches have one overarching job. To help people find God. As you know, God is everywhere. Let us seek him where he may be found. Amen.