An Irregular verb: first person singular future active indicative

Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Isaiah 43:1-7, Psalm 91, Revelation 12:1-3, 7-10, 13-17, Matthew 5:1-12 

Resurgam. 

Seen throughout the land on plinths and statues – which have had their share of hard knocks these last months. The latin is an irregular verb: first person singular future active indicative: 

I will rise.

I think most of us will not have had time to reflect on the impact of the past four months. It’s been more of a case of adapt and respond. Uncertainty over the future, with guidance in continuous flux, means that transition now seems permanent. Singing, eating and drinking, children – all fundamentals of church life – have all become difficult; regulations and guidance changes weekly. We have returned to church but things are not as they were and many, especially young families and our more distinguished in years, remain with us but in spirit. 

Renewal has been underway though! There’s a new sound system which, paired with the streaming system (completed on Thursday), will solidify the connection with new and old friends participating online.  There’re new choir robes and we’re supporting young musicians who remain in a sector devastated by the crisis. Our next stage of development, beginning with our signs and noticeboards, will look to rejuvenate our outdoor spaces, which have been a godsend to many young families and walkers, with our quiet enclosed space. 

Resurgimus! First person plural present active indicative: 

We are rising! Rising is a present continuous activity, we do together.

There’s a Southwark prayer list; and every day of the year a different church is listed to be prayed for. The list is arranged by area today the 19th we pray for St John the Divine, Earlsfield. We then come, just before the Parish of Putney, then Holy Trinity Roehampton and so on. By the strangest coincidence this year the day on which our church is prayed for throughout the diocese is tomorrow, the 20th July. In the church’s calendar for some seventeen centuries this is the day the Church has remembered St Margaret, on the day of her martyrdom.  At first I thought this must be deliberate – given that there’s only a 0.3% chance of it happening! but of course this is simply not possible. The list is arranged geographically. So as we celebrate our community this weekend we have this momentous sign that perhaps we too will emerge from the belly of the dragon to live again. It is the year of St Margaret!

Now today’s New Testament reading comes from the Marmite book of the Bible – Revelation. Notoriously difficult to read, with far flung interpretations from the mad, the bad and the evangelically keen. We hear it today for the echoes of the improbable tale of St Margaret, and perhaps it will help in understanding our saint. Occasionally I hear whispers in the congregation against her, Archly noticing that Margaret also happened to be the name of the daughter of an influential figure in our history; And it’s important to remember that we’re dedicated to a saint, and not some two-a-penny upper-class girl from South West London.

So we have these two archetypes fighting it out: the woman and the dragon. The woman is the easier figure to interpret. She is the new Eve, who began humanity’s struggle with serpents, losing round one. She’s also a figure of Mary, and you’ll often see the virgin depicted in art as described here. But John here principally intends this woman to symbolise the Church: she is clothed with the sun, who is Christ, she has conquered the changeable things of this world, signified by the moon under her feet. Her crown of twelves stars represent the apostles, who have taken the place of the twelve tribes of Israel. She’s in childbirth as she is constantly producing the mystical body of Christ – the new generation of the Church through baptism; and she and her children are at war with the dragon who has been cast down.

Historically people have had great fun in identifying the seven-headed dragon. He has been the rulers of ancient empires: the Persians, the Medes, Assyria and Babylon; seven Roman emperors most guilty of persecution from Galba to Nerva. The poet Spencer saw the woman as Elizabeth I and the dragon as the Pope, and actually an awful lot of not very ecumenically minded chaps have seen the dragon as the Bishop of Rome. In our apocalyptic times you could have your pick of people to be one of the seven heads. Disappointingly none of our artworks depicted this.

The point of the dragon, though, is that he is the figure of pure evil – seven being a perfect number – But also that this enemy is not clearly defined with his different heads – So we might equally think of him as the personification of temptation, evil, corruption, violence, weakness, infidelity and dishonesty. The battle that the church has with this is very real and always has been, but especially in times of persecution.

So Margaret lived through the Church’s worst persecution under the Roman Emperor Diocletian. Famously he prohibited Christian worship. This has also stopped under our present administration, but much as Boris I think would quite like to be identified with a Roman emperor, I don’t think we can quite blame him for that disaster. 

The story itself has some fanciful details, but that young girls were killed, especially those refusing forced marriages, and that they suffered torture for their faith; this is certainly true. That such cruelty and such temptation to deny your faith is pictured as Draconian simply shows the inspiration the Church derived from the these martyrs, as it survived and grew though these dark days.

The Christian story is ultimately a story of faith, hope and love, overcoming fear, suffering and violence. Of this pregnant woman overcoming the devil. Our Old Testament lesson speaks of walking through waters and fire unscathed; of the protection of those called by name. Our Gospel spoke of the blessing upon those persecuted – for their reward is great in heaven. The pure in heart, like Margaret, who will see God. It’s not easy to find God in hardship, but the Gospel doesn’t promise that those who follow will be saved from it; that we will be kept out of harm’s way. But it does promise that when we are in difficulty; that’s when God is closest to us; and that is when we are closest to Christ.

The next months do not promise to be easy. Those affected by homelessness face a fearful winter. Unemployment is rising.  Schools will face great obstacles, the arts face paralysis and collapse. Many among us in recent weeks have suffered loss; have known illness and death. Our community remains divided by vulnerability. We will have to work hard and creatively in how we respond to an evolving situation. But we have already seen great generosity and kindness in giving and volunteering. If we can retain our faith and keep on in love we will not lose hope. And being St Margaret’s Day, we have this peculiar story, told this year in many examples of art from all ages of our community; of a young girl who at the Church’s darkest moment kept faith and was regurgitated – rising from the darkness of the dragon’s belly.  And in this she follows her Lord in that other peculiar story three hundred years before.  It’s the same irregular verb ‘resurgo’, but third person singular perfect active indicative: resurrexit! Margaret resurrexit! Christus resurrexit!  She has risen.  Christ has risen. That is the foundation of our hope.

Resurrexit. Resurgimus. Resurgam.

He has risen. We are rising. I will rise.