Passion Sunday: Unconventional Christianity

Christianity is unconventional. This is tricky because, on the face of it, the Church of England, seems about as conventional as you get. But it isn’t always. And perhaps it shouldn’t be.

If you want a mental image of the Church of England – think of an enormous tanker, laden down with 500 years of history and buildings. It’s moving forwards but its turning circle is about 100 nautical miles, so it takes time. Also, the bridge is facing the wrong direction so the captain is constantly looking backwards with only a little wing mirror by which they can see the way ahead. And the captain is actually a committee made up of 108 people, who have different destinations in mind, but all have one hand on the wheel. 

That is quite unconventional,  but being a Christian is unconventional in a different way.

St Paul has, as he says, confidence in the flesh. To talk in today’s terms: He’s from a good family. He has a sofa, not a settee. He went to the right school. Side note: Having grown up in Wales I find the English obsession with schools fascinating. Only 2 years ago I was asked which school I went to. The only place in the world two middle aged men would discuss which school they went to is England. But St Paul is one of us. He puts down his napkin after having pudding, places his spectacles on the chimneypiece and listens to the wireless. He doesn’t put down his serviette after having dessert, put his glasses on the mantelpiece and listen to the radio. Hell no. He wears a recognisable tie, His scarf is the right shade of blue; St Paul drives a Tesla. St Paul has confidence in the flesh.

And yet, whatever gains he had, these he has come to regard as loss because of Christ. In fact, he regards all of it as loss: the school, society, the car – because of Christ. And for Christ he has lost all of them – he regards them as trash – (If you’ll forgive the Americanism – but trash, garbage has more force than rubbish) In order that he may gain Christ, not trusting in those other things for who he is. But even more than this he wants to become like Christ – and not just like Christ, but Christ at the point of his death – In order that he may attain the resurrection. Here he draws back – he has not reached that place yet. He has not achieved the total self-giving love. But he presses on towards it.

So St Paul is quite a conventional figure – a pillar of society. And yet he regards what we might call ‘acceptance’, ‘standing’, ‘status’ as trash, as he seeks to become more like someone who became a pariah, a criminal, a dead man.

Now two things follow from this. The first is about our sense of identity. Olchfa Comprehensive may be one of the finest schools in West Glamorgan, but it should not define me, nor should any degrees, or jobs, or qualification. Another peculiar British habit is to fill your downstairs lavatory – (note my shrewd choice of words) – with family accolades, in a semi-ironic, non-ironic way. Having them in your lounge, sorry sitting room, would seem a bit brash.

That’s all fine of course. You’ve got to put those photos somewhere. Our downstairs loo is mostly hats and a beret from different army dress, alongside photos of Rhiannon on stage ranging from the trashy to the monstrous.  But the point is to sit light to all this stuff. You are not your CV. Your success and your value is not relative to your neighbour or your peer. (And not that sort of peer.) Our identity, our confidence, should be in Christ. We should probably have a picture of the electric chair, the lethal injection in our toilet. I’m not more important because of my school, my qualifications, my job;  We don’t earn our value. Our value lies in the fact that Christ loves us. You are loved.  That only makes you priceless.

The second thing is about how we use our resources. The New Testament has some pretty challenging things to say here. The short summary is that we should be directing all our resources – or as much as we can – to God’s kingdom. Our resources, our time, our money, our talents, are given to us to build the kingdom of heaven. 

You’ll notice I didn’t say the Church. The people of St Margaret’s have always been a generous community. This church is sustained and operates because of the congregation’s giving. We couldn’t do the things we do, playgroups, recitals, lunches, we couldn’t have the music we have at our services if it wasn’t for people giving money, time and their skill. Giving is at the centre of the life of any church. And from the current position of the Church of England, it’s clear that parishes will only keep their vicar, only maintain their building, only stay open, if they have the people and the finances to be self-sufficient. There is a rising pressure on clergy and churches to fund themselves, which makes some hard-pressed. Don’t take your church for granted! 

But our resources are needed more widely than that. Especially if your treasurer is Judas Iscariot. And it’s not just about some idealised version of ‘the poor’. In the letter to the Galatians, St Paul speaks of the fruit of the Spirit, which is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. This is how we build the kingdom of God. And our resources are well used when they are applied to these ends. When preparing our family budget perhaps we should write in: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Don’t be like the local Whatsapp group bemoaning cleaners raising their price by £2 per hour. Think about your time, your money. How are you creating love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control?

Giles Fraser, not the most conventional of priests, commented this week on the Queen walking in to Prince Philip’s memorial service with Prince Andrew. No one was going to congratulate her on walking in with him. Any member of her family would have been a better choice. Prince Andrew is a pariah and will never recover. The Queen, in her usual understated way, in choosing him, has demonstrated to the nation the Christian virtue of forgiveness, Which has to start in the family. Very likely most people will think he is a poor choice –  They will judge, gossip and think less of her – and that is usually a commendation in the Christian life. And – do you know what –  We are an unforgiving people. Our cancel culture, our raking back over adolescent tweets, our fear of saying the wrong thing – All speak of a society that struggles with forgiveness. The symbol of an unimpeachable woman walking in to church with a disgraced son, is one which speaks volumes to me about Christianity.

Being a Christian calls us to an unconventional life. You may have confidence in the flesh. You may have a head start and already feel like you don’t really belong in this world; A feeling of dread as you walk down to the river. Our role model is an outcast, a criminal, a dead man. If you can bear it – let’s aim to be more like that. And maybe it doesn’t matter what you call the sofa, the loo, your evening meal; Maybe we can regard all that as trash. Maybe we too can be unconventional.

2022, for all our hopes, is laying a bigger trail of victims in its wake even than 2021. Now is the time to ask what exactly our faith requires of us. Now is the time to ask how are we using our resources to fund the kingdom of God. Now is the time to ask where are we planting fruit in love, In joy, in peace, in patience, in kindness, in generosity, in faithfulness, in gentleness, and in self-control. Amen.

Previous
Previous

Palm Sunday - CONFLICT

Next
Next

Lent 3: Telling the Stories of God