Candlemas: Step onto the Bridge
Sermon by the Revd Dr Brutus Green
Readings: Malachi 3:1-5, Psalm 24:7-end, Hebrews 2:14-end, Luke 2:22-40
Who is a funeral for? If you asked 10 people that question today, I think nine of them would say “for the bereaved”, “the family and friends”. The thought is that the person who has died is no longer really there, and I often hear this said. Funerals, then, are to comfort, to bring around support, to give thanks for the life, to express grief. And I agree with all of this. I have spoken recently about the difficulties of the past two years when this hasn’t happened.
But, as a Christian, I don’t think that’s the primary purpose of funerals, or all that is going on. That’s not to say that Christians are different to others in how they treat funerals; It’s fair to say the mourner has replaced the deceased as the main focus at services. And even in Christian and church-going contexts, the funeral aspect – involving the body – is sometimes done in private, with public memorial services. There’s also I’ve been told an arrangement that can be made where the body is destroyed without any notice or involvement, just as though an old hat were being thrown away.
This might seem spiritual. A very popular poem at funeral is ‘Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep’ – I’m a little wary of it –
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glint on snow…
And most of all – ‘
(Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!)’
It’s a poem and so for interpretation, but death is at least in one sense very real. And the body and its resting place matter.
A funeral is sacramental. The definition of a sacrament is ‘a visible sign of an invisible presence’. If we stand by what we say we believe, there is nowhere this is more the case than at a funeral – Where it is grace at work on the person who has died – through prayer, commendation and blessing. At a funeral we come to witness in faith an encounter between God and the dead.
When we come together to celebrate a baptism or a wedding we come as witnesses, supporters, cheerleaders - We would never ignore the baby, or the bride; The dead should not be the elephant in the room. They should be the focus of prayer and attention.
Some of the most inspirational moments I have known have been with those who were approaching death. That journey can be made with the grace of one approaching baptism; I have witnessed people organising their death with the attention to detail and care of others, as if it were their wedding. It’s an intensely personal experience and there are many who would not go gentle into that good night. But, if, as Christians we believe that death is conquered; If – and it’s a big if – we have faith that Christ is risen, and is for us – Then death is a sacrament and as in baptism, ordination and marriage, the service celebrates and enacts the truth of grace working within us.
We are not spirits. We are flesh. Bodies matter. But we don’t respect the coffin that passes as a symbol of death; A solemn nod to the grim reaper; But, rather, for us it’s the hidden activity of God; for us it’s a sign, a sacrament, of resurrection.
This probably seems a little heavy for a Sunday morning. I try not to think about death before brunch – you’ll tell me. But today’s festival is all about bodies. And the fact that bodies matter.
The letter to the Hebrews makes the point forcefully. Jesus shared flesh and blood. He experienced bodily death. He wasn’t an angel.
The Gospel is all about bodies. Mary’s body – changed as it has been by the birth of a child. The bodies of animals brought in as sacrifice. Simeon and Anna’s bodies, at the end of their lives. And the body of a child, as he grows up. Christ lived and died as one of us; He shared in our humanity. And with that, one of the most troubling images we have in the Bible, so thoroughly represented in art, is the pieta, The image of Jesus, taken down from the cross, being held in death by his mother, as should never happen. Of all images it captures most Christ’s humanity and divinity. The suffering all life inherits; a love so amazing, so divine.
The early church fought its way through rumblings of heresy – mostly over who Jesus was. There were those who said Jesus couldn’t be human – as the revelation of God, he only appeared as one of us, like avatars or demigods in other religions. Then there were those who said Jesus couldn’t be divine – he was just a perfect example of humanity, adopted as a Son of God.
What the Church understood and what is vital to understand for us about Jesus is that he must be able to complete the bridge between us and God. If he’s not quite human – not like us – then he can’t meet us in our need. If he’s not quite God, an angel or a superhuman, then God remains remote and unknowable. Christ is a bridge. And even if God is to us inscrutable, difficult, dark – Christ has made him known. And as our bridge Christ has reconciled us to God.
So when the disciples ask how they may know the way to the Father, how they may follow Jesus; His response is: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life”. I am the bridge between you and God, but you will only know it in the resurrection, where the wounds of torture and the death of an execution, are raised up in anticipation of the restoration of all creation. This is the invisible presence we are privileged to see in faith at the funeral of a friend. And though it is hard; our faith wills us to send them on with joy. Perhaps it’s living in the glorious paradise of Putney that makes us sad with the things they will miss, that obscure from our eyes also the unsearchable riches that await us.
Candlemas is really the bridge festival of the Christian year. We have one foot still in Christmas and the Epiphany season, with the mysterious kings, our crib, the winter chill and fading memories of magical Christmas; And Simeon heralds Jesus as the light of the world, that shines in the darkness. But he also looks forward to the cost of that gift and sword that will pierce Mary’s heart. So that by the end of this service are eyes have moved from the crib to the font; And from Christmas to Holy Week, And the red ribbon that surrounds the delicious sweet filled Christingle. Equally between Simeon and Anna, and Jesus we see the bridge between Old and New Testaments, Old and New Covenants, between generations; between life and death.
Church means many things; All of us are drawn here – or watching at home – with different things on our hearts. But faith is stepping out onto that bridge. Believing in that connection between what is human and what is divine. And trusting in a resurrection, begun two thousand years ago, but still working in us today. Amen.