Sunday after Ascension: we have changed

Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Acts 1:6-14, Psalm 68:1-10, 1Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11, John 17:1-11

When the congregation of St Margaret’s had come together, they asked the Archbishops and the government ministers, ‘Lords, is this the time when you will restore the opening of the parish churches?’ They replied: “It is not for you to know the times or periods that Boris and Archbishop Justin have set by their own authority; but you will receive power when the Holy Science has let us know.”

This short period between the Ascension and Pentecost, between the last of the resurrection appearances and the gift of the Spirit, is in keeping with the present mood – of waiting for the ease from lockdown and the coming of freedom and autonomy. The epistle even told us to “Keep alert!” – Our adversary like a roaring lion prowls around, looking for someone to devour, while ‘our brothers and sisters throughout the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering’. Together we wait for Christ to ‘restore, support, strengthen and establish’ us. Perhaps this will be on the next government poster.

We are with the disciples at this point. They do not know what’s coming, or when it’s coming. They feel ill-prepared; uncertain about the future. They have had a mixed run to date; will they rise to meet the challenge? So they wait. Jesus is gone. They’ve not yet received the Spirit. I’ve said before that secularisation flattens time. While religions have festivals; reflective seasons and celebratory seasons, days of penitence, prayer and fasting; secular time moves more and more to make every day the same. Germany is less secular – they’ve protected their Sundays as a ‘family day’; you get a telephone call if you hang out your washing or mow your lawn.

Rhiannon and I nearly got caught out with a disastrous New Year when we learned very late that by midday on New Year’s Eve almost everything is shut. Ill prepared, we had little more than a can of tonic in the house. Luckily Rhiannon had been baking biscuits and our neighbours from Uzbekistan reciprocated with some delicious skewers of meat. The Lord will provide. But here we have 24hr shopping, 365 days of the year in cities that never sleep. This is very convenient when you realise you’ve got nothing to eat for dinner, but humans need shifts in mood and focus. It’s unwelcome but this epidemic has returned seasonal behaviour: A very long Lent or Ramadan – like Winter in Game of Thrones. ‘COVID is coming’, people will say in years to come. It’s striking how many people have told me things they’ve gained since lockdown. The absence of the usual distractions, gaining time, being forced back to the local, realisations of community, even noticing what we miss; can be life-giving; creative, liberating. Religion has served humanity since its origins to follow seasonal patterns, where we lie fallow, rush into business, fast and feast; rest and play.

So this week, the Church would have you wait and pray. Something that we at last have time for. We’re no longer disciples of the master, following Jesus. We’re not yet sent into the world. Now is the time to gather our energy, think and pray on what is to come.

So as the disciples begin this transition to becoming apostles: literally speaking, from being followers to being sent, we have a transfer of authority from Jesus to the Church. Frightening stuff, especially for the Church of England. Pentecost is where the Church comes of age; We take responsibility for teaching, for ministering, for helping people find the kingdom of God.

So Britain, the church, we are waiting. Waiting for what comes next; but to whom are we looking? Boris? Scientists? Dominic Cummings?! Or are we looking with faith, discerning the movement of the Spirit, asking where God may be found? That may sound pious, but to put it another way: What is the right thing to do here? How might I serve my neighbours here? How must I change to adapt to this new reality? What would Jesus do if he were in my shoes?

Walking the dog and the baby – they both have leads now – People are keen to share their politics. The schools must go back – someone hollers to me from 2m; my children are not going back till September another firmly states. We are all facing these significant questions. Should I drive 260 miles with my symptomatic wife? Should I risk leaving the house at all?

St Margaret’s will soon face similar decisions: should we open our doors? What more can we do to serve our community? How can we adapt to become the key point of connection we have been sent to become? Between God and his people? Between the Church and the world?

 At our Ascension service I shared the Bishop of Leeds’, Nick Baines’, four questions. Questions we should ask ourselves and St Margaret’s: What have I lost that I need to regain moving forwards? What have I lost that should remain lost? What have I gained that must be kept moving forwards? What have I gained that can later be put to one side?

I didn’t hear the sermon – lovely Anne East sent me that distilled message – but it strikes me that it misses the most important question: It’s perhaps typical of the church that all those questions deal solely with what is already happening. The most significant question, the hardest question, is: what is it that we have not yet taken hold of that we will need moving forward?

My weekend paper ran an article on how religions have benefitted greatly from the crisis. Communities have tightened, online worship is reaching many more people; priests reported a deepening of their own prayer life. I have felt the same. Having been used to saying daily prayer on my own; Often quickly, distractedly, on the go, now I have up to a dozen praying along with me; I’m excited to share that day by day journey with you. And I’ve heard that some are joining our services who through age and mobility had been excluded; we have, by accident, found an area where we’d become exclusive: shutting out those who needed us most. We have seen how we can galvanise a community and bring food and medicine to those in need.

But zoom can be frustrating, and there is no substitute for gathering in person; and funerals are very hard; all the most difficult aspects are exaggerated; the separation, the difficulty of saying goodbye, while the celebration of life, the gathering of family and friends, the wake, the full telling of a life is all absent. And while death is mourned, the celebration of love in birth and marriage is deferred.

We have changed. That makes us more adaptable, more resilient. We must be ready for more change. Personally, in our families, in our church. All change involves loss. All change involves gain. The kingdom of God only moves forward with the withdrawal of the risen Christ, to enable the coming of the Holy Spirit.

So from next Sunday the die is back in our hands. We have now this season before the Spirit, before we begin the slow return to public life, to think and pray and prepare. But we are not left comfortless. In these days we are not preparing for life alone, nor are we choosing what is best for us. We must be attentive to the Spirit, whither it blows; people of God, do not stand looking up towards heaven – the harvest is ripe, even if the labourers are few. Come Holy Spirit, the kingdom of God is at hand. Amen.

 

 

 

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Pentecost: stop trying to be Christian

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Ascension Day: Out of Time