Damnatio Memoriae

Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Psalm 19:7-end, James: 5:13-end, Mark 9:38-end

Today’s readings are not easy. The Old Testament was very long. And it’s hard to identify with people longing to return to slavery because they miss cucumbers and melons. We hear it today presumably because of the two men, Eldad and Medad, who Moses approves of in their unauthorised prophesying. It finds an echo in the beginning of the Gospel with Jesus’ famous words: ‘Whoever is not against us is for us.’ This is an inclusive and practical message that we shouldn’t always insist on recognised procedure, if good things are happening. Though that’s not a concept the Church of England is very comfortable with.

The Gospel after this takes a very sharp turn though. Suddenly we are being threatened with dismemberment. And we have some of the most striking imagery associated with divine punishment in the Bible. The millstone carrying us down into the sea. The unquenchable fire, where the worm never dies. But the passage is confused. Mark has collected these sayings of Jesus together, but they’re anything but clear.

And the epistle is not much more comfortable. There’s a very direct connection between prayer in faith and healing. I’ve heard many stories of unexplained healings and seen some surprising things. I have known prayer answered. But equally I’ve known prayer unanswered. For better or for worse I have more faith in doctors than miracles. We’re rightly a bit sceptical about tele-evangelists –  Touch the screen! And if the Bible is clear about anything, it’s that suffering is part of life and discipleship. Following Christ is taking up your cross, not being saved through ‘blessings’. We have all also witnessed infuriating injustice in the outrageous suffering of people who deserved better.  So there will be some who’ll hear this reading and tell you that the prayer of faith did not save the sick. What will you say to them?

The first thing to say is that we must remember that we’re reading in context. Jesus is speaking to a beleaguered nation. There’s a fight going on for the soul of the people of God. Not between the Jews and the Romans so much as between Jesus’ teaching, which is people-centred and announcing the the kingdom of God,  and the hypocrisy and self-serving teachers of the day. Here Jesus is drawing a clear battle line. Either you’re with us or you’re against us. And yes his language is strong but his goal is to wake people up where they’re drifting on the wrong course.And these warnings do not speak to some personal sin we might feel judged by,  but simply are we with Jesus, or against him. And – again context! – although Jesus speaks of being cast into hell, the Greek is Gehenna – which refers to the great rubbish tip outside Jerusalem which was constantly being burned down. It’s a real place – much like Wandsworth tip and the awful smell there. Be careful! You too may end up in Smugglers Way! The Household waste and recycling centre. Although some people love a trip to the tip.

James, meanwhile, is writing out of the intensity of the early church. Again, there’s a spiritual battle as the Jewish community is splitting and the Church is having to define itself. James is writing to strengthen the solidarity of the Christian community in the face of great hardship. They know suffering and death first hand – many of their faithful brothers and sisters have suffered an unjust and untimely death. James is not saying that prayer will always solve all your problems. He begins this letter encouraging his readers rather to face trials with joy as the testing times produce endurance and maturity of faith.

Prayer is foremost about submitting ourselves to God’s will. Which is neither demanding healing, nor being fatalistic; But accepting that in health or sickness we may serve God. But importantly, by praying together as we do this morning, by sharing in joy and in pain, as we hear about each other’s week, we can encourage one another, and most of all we can do better at loving one another. And as the Gospel reminds us, it’s in our failure to love one another, especially as Christians, that we let ourselves down: It is the definition of sin.

I was discussing with some colleagues this week the strange disappearance of sin from our vocabulary. Some will be glad because they equate sin with shame. They might argue we live in a more enlightened world where we understand people’s action with more empathy and compassion. We understand mental illness better, the impact of our parenting and upbringing; We have these sociological and psychological tools that explain anti-social behaviour.

What strikes me in recent reporting, however, is that a more judgemental attitude has crept in – possibly than ever before. So in the debate on statues – and I’m not defending all those with the wealth to buy themselves public immortality – But there is a movement to remove from public history all those whose values don’t accord with this current moment. A city might reasonably decide it no longer wants in its public space a man who built his wealth on the slave trade; But what about when statues of Churchill need protecting?  There are elements of anti-semitism and racism in the works of our best writers like TS Eliot and Shakespeare. Are their memorials at risk? And JK Rowling took some heat for allegedly transphobic comments.

For the dead we seem to be reinvoking the Roman practice of Damnatio Memoriae. Meaning condemnation of memory. If an emperor really didn’t like someone he could erase them from history. Not only would their house and possessions be taken but all official mention of them would be scored out and any statues disfigured or destroyed. Several ancient cultures followed this practice as well as the USSR. It would seem a strange evolution for this country but these are strange times.

For the living there is “No Platforming”, where individuals out of sync with the times are kept out of the public sight.  Controversially, it’s been feminists of a more old-fashioned sort, like Germaine Greer and Rowling who have found themselves in the same sin-bin as the BNP and EDL.

It’s also evident in the pillorying of just about any public figure over tweets stretching back into their teens. A racist or sexist joke at school can now get you suspended from the England Cricket Team. Part of what’s troubling about all this is that mistakes and errors, sometimes even difference of opinion or misrepresentation, have the power to lead to erasure.

Sin was considered to be endemic – everywhere among people. It was also something that could be repented of with immediate absolution. To follow Jesus’ language we can remove sin and avoid the fire, the rubbish tip. In contemporary morality the approach seems to be to immediately throw the perpetrator onto the fire. Harry Potter and the Transgender Inferno The statues will be toppled and those who do not conform will be silenced; where we heard from the letter of James that ‘anyone who has committed sins will be forgiven’ and that actually we should be encouraged to bring back a sinner for everyone’s sake.

Because although Jesus and the Early Church had to define a battle line very clearly. Either you’re for us or against us. The possibility of stepping back into the Church is always there, and a simple act of kindness to a follower of Jesus is enough to receive reward.

It’s a shame really that baptism doesn’t automatically delete all past tweets or we could just call up the English Cricket Board and arrange a visit. Perhaps the Church of England should develop an app – Repent of your Social Media – and be made clean! For Elodie and Miles – their tweeting days are ahead of them. It is perhaps part of our task as a church to teach them that their sins are not as permanent as their presence on social media. Nor can they be erased from the love of God.

And let us be careful of any movement that seeks to erase or silence and try to support and encourage one another. Not from fear of fire or household waste, Or that all God’s blessings are just one fervent prayer away; but in knowing that by our love for one another, we are sharing in the love of God. And that love endures eternally. Amen.

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