Holy Inclusive, part II
Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Genesis 1:1-2:3, Psalm 136:1-9, 23-26, Romans 8:18-25, Matthew 6:25-34
The story that has most shifted how I see disability is well known and often repeated, where the child asks its parent whether it will have Down Syndrome in heaven. Thinking of reassurance, the parent replies ‘Of course not’. In heaven everyone is the perfect version of themselves. To which the child responds, ‘then how will you recognise me?’
It doesn’t take much work to find some quite funny and poignant stories, which illustrate the joy and value families have found in the experience of difference, which is really the case with all families growing up. The writer Kevin Thomas speaks of how his daughter, who also has Down Syndrome, has a simplicity, a trust, and an honesty that make her a better person than he is. He tells the story of how she was acting up once, and he had put her on the naughty step. When she returned for dinner he asked her to say grace. Her prayer was, “Dear God, thank you for Mommy NOT Daddy, Amen.” We also hear how he was playing hide and seek with her. Only she will never hide but just waits in front of him to finish counting and open his eyes. You see, she delights in being found. You couldn’t say that she had not understood the game, or got it wrong. She just found a truly efficient way to take part with wonder and joy. And it was over quickly! The mistake is thinking: ‘In heaven everyone is perfect’. Because your idea of perfect is not God’s.
The account of the first things in today’s Old Testament reading is helpful here. Each day is declared good. Every act of creation is good. Even, perhaps especially, the great sea monsters. It’s not all about the brightest and best of humanity. And when Paul in the letter to the Romans speaks of the last things, it’s the whole of creation that will be set free and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. And even today’s Gospel is a reminder that we can take lessons from the rest of creation. That the simplicity of the birds and the flowers may reveal more of the kingdom of God, than all our strain and stress. The highpoint of God’s creative act was a day of rest, the hope of creation is freedom from decay and perfect peace. The kingdom of God is not found in worry. So where is closest to God? The board rooms and parliaments of humanity or our little garden outside?
You see, I think humans love hierarchies. Even when we love nature, we still see humans as the pinnacle of creation. The true kings of the jungle. And within humanity there are hierarchies. Consider the most lawless and aggressive part of our society today, our school system, think of the league tables and the jostling for positions and places; the cynicism and strategies of church schools, the gaming of the system that goes on; We all want the best for our children. We want our children to be successful, to have opportunities. But when do we start valuing success? Judging ourselves and others by achievement? Start rewarding achievement with the expressions of love and warmth? Perhaps it’s the naivete of having a 16 month old, but I’m sure most parents wouldn’t feel that the success of their child would affect the love they have for them; But when we look at the world, do we judge people as better and worse, more or less worthy? Do we look around the pews and see better and worse?
It’s an uncomfortable subject. Because we should pursue excellence. Even St Paul tells us to pursue the higher spiritual gifts. But at what stage do we start valuing people more for their gifts? At what point do we start dismissing people because they are less eloquent, their IQ seems lower, their careers less stellar, their social skills less fluent? Are we content with the hierarchy we have adopted? What is it that we call ‘good’? Are our values what we see in Genesis?
You may love and enjoy the classic hymn ‘Amazing Grace’. Some of us sang it this week at a funeral. It has those lines: I once was lost but now am found, Was blind but now I see.” But imagine you had been born blind, or lost your vision very early. It would not be a helpful metaphor, not encapsulate the Gospel. It can be demanding but we should be aware where even our worship may exclude others, or suggest they are less of value in the kingdom of God.
The place where this will be most punishing is our self-assessment. By God’s grace we are largely built to take simple delight in children; The refrain Rhiannon and I constantly use with babysitters is “Just keep him alive” But the standard for ourselves might be quite different. Do we accept ourselves? There is a basic first question of whether we even see ourselves as we really are. Are we able to stop projecting the person we feel others want to see, others like for enough time to acknowledge and like the person we are? But then what about that person? You could write the CV out. You have perhaps completed the online-dating profile. But is that person loveable? Do you accept them? Are you willing to believe that they’re loved by God?
Inclusion has to begin with ourselves. If we don’t believe we’re worthy of love, If we don’t think we’re good enough to be in church, then how will we ever believe that God accepts anyone else. But also we have to think about how we value. If we value achievement we’ll always think hierarchically. We’ll never really be inclusive.
Most of us grow up to value achievement. We’re told well done you’ve done this. Stood up by ourselves, pronounced the dog’s name correctly, Poured a cup of tea and then added milk; We take it in and keep doing things to maintain approval. It makes us feel good and we can control how much we’re loved by doing the good things and pleasing people. We become emmeshed in a system of grind, where we work to achieve; We achieve to find recognition; The recognition makes us feel loved and valued.
This is not how God loves. God doesn’t love by grind. He loves by grace. He doesn’t care if you play the cello. If you passed your grade 3 with merit. He’s not there for your school pedigree, your alumni magazine, your membership of clubs, your sporting prowess.
I’ve taken a lot of funerals recently and we can’t help it. We say what people did well. We know that this person was extrarordinary. And the easy way to explain it is to say something that they did. Say something they achieved. But if you’ve been to a funeral you know this is a subterfuge. They may have done some unusual things. They had their moment in the sun. But that’s not why people are there. That’s not why they’re loved. People don’t go to funerals because they were impressed by the obituary.
And this is where we get to the heart of what being inclusive is. When we start valuing people not for what they have done or achieved, but simply because they have that virtue by right. They are created and so we can say straight off, they are of value, they bear the image of God, they merit that love. That is to begin with grace. We all deserve to be loved. And with a solid foundation of love who knows what we might go on to achieve.
If we value ourselves and others on the basis of achievement, we may well go far, have that drive to succeed. But we will forever feel we must work to find that love, and that is exhausting. We risk valuing others on the basis of their gifts, which means we risk excluding and marginalising others for not reaching that standard.
If we begin with that premise that all things are created good, we might succeed in taking the pressure of ourselves, finding the kingdom of God in the simplicity of flowers and birds, and we might start seeing the beauty of creation in surprising and moving ways, and in things we had hitherto considered broken, partial, limited. Being an inclusive church, finding the inclusive God, begins with our ability to accept and welcome difference. And that may need to begin with us accepting and welcoming ourselves.
Today we have accepted and welcomed little Saskia in baptism. She has had to do nothing. Nothing is expected of her. Yet. Let us be that community that loves first, and watches with wonder the achievements that follow when grace comes first. Amen.