| The Foundation of Lady Katherine Leveson at Temple Balsall | ||
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St
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Bible Sunday Sermon preached on 27 October 2002 by There are two texts for this sermon. The first runs as a kind of hum
beneath the whole thing: from today's epistle reading, 'Let the word
of Christ dwell in you richly' - with emphasis on the final word. The
second text is from the story in John's Gospel, chapter 4, about Jesus'
meeting with the Samaritan woman, where Jesus says to her, 'Give me
a drink'. By the time I have finished you will see why I have chosen
this text. I don't know whether you happened to be listening to Radio 4 between eight and nine this morning. If you were, you may have felt pushed to and fro with regard to the Bible. There was first a Service of the Word from the Russian Cathedral in Bayswater, with gorgeous music by a choir from Leningrad, including a rich setting of the Beatitudes, and a sermon of high intensity from their greatly impressive Archbishop, Antony Bloom, now in his late eighties. Then we went on to Alistair Cooke's Letter from America, where, unusually for him, he gave us a straight-from-the-shoulder attack on Bible-bashers, who are so prominent in American life and indeed politics - all this in the context of talking about his love of the Old Testament, but not on their terms! Today is kept as Bible Sunday and the readings directed us, in one way or another, to God's 'Word' of which Scripture is a leading instance. A few weeks ago, James got us to attend to this very subject and showed us that it is less straightforward than some Christians, often noisy Christians, would like us to think. The Bible of course often hits us as bright as crystal, as sweet as honey: the Beatitudes, for instance, or the great parables of Jesus, or stories of his life and suffering. But James showed how impractical it is to suppose that in today's world we can necessarily follow rules designed for life 2000 or more years ago, or indeed harbour ideas that made sense to our ancestors but do so no more. And what a peculiar idea of God it would give us - a God whose mind got stuck at such a time and refused to budge. Having our mind stuck may be partly true of us oldies, like it or not, but God is for ever young. 'God our contemporary', as a slogan used to say. For him, the Bible represents steps on the journey of his people - to be attended to, but not 'the end'. But let us go more deeply and personally. Think how God deals with
each of us, his creatures, his people. He does not treat us as if we
were blank sheets of paper on whom he can print whatever he wills. He
engages us in conversation - the conversation of thoughts, the conversation
of life, in the church community and beyond. We can respond as we choose,
but as in our relations with others, we are wise to be humble - to give
and to learn and to develop; not because we are compelled but because
we desire to be as good and as honest as we can see our way to being;
as close to truth as we have it in us to be. And all of us are better
at it than we often dream of. After all, we are made in God's image
and we should rise to our position. Sinners, yes, but deeper than that,
beloved creatures of God. So God does not dominate, but he prods and suggests and asks. And here
the second text comes forwards. Jesus asks the Samaritan woman: 'Give
me a drink'. Here we have the one from God, asking, needing. Can God
be in need, vulnerable? And can he, via the Bible and other means be
seeking our collaboration, not simply seeking to control us? There is a painting of the episode in the Gospel of Luke where Jesus
is a child of twelve. He is taken to Jerusalem and is found by Joseph
and Mary in the Temple, with learned teachers of the Jewish law, and,
it says, 'both hearing them and asking them questions'. The painting
shows the boy seated at the top of a flight of stairs, with the ancient
sages ranged at his feet, hanging on his every word. He is like one
of those child prodigies who plays the violin better than most masters
of the art in their maturity. But that is fanciful and it is not what
the story itself says: he was hearing and asking. Jesus in conversation,
learning, needing - respecting others: asking, as it were, 'Give me
a drink'. Last year I needed to find a cover for a book I was putting together. I found it in a recent sculpture at Chester Cathedral. It depicts that story of the meeting of Jesus and the woman of Samaria. The two figures are carved as two halves of a circle. He lies, but reaches upward; she almost hovers above him, reaching out with a dish of water. The two are made like mermaids and are carved at the end of their tails; and both pairs of hands clasp the bowl. So the act of giving and receiving is one and single. Who can tell who gives and who receives? Formally she gives and he
receives: but in receiving, he also gives - and the two are one, as
the story goes on to show. And if you say, I'm really not up to this kind of level - I have nothing
to say to God or do for God beyond the utterly mundane; I'm a simple
soul and like just to be told - what I should believe and how I should
behave (even if I don't either quite believe or quite behave!). Well,
rise to your stature. There is no higher status than being a creature
of God: it's delicate, beautiful and loving. And don't ever let power-freaks
bully you out of it, even if they wear the marks of authority. 'Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly', it says in the epistle. Not oppressively, not tyrannically - but richly: to bring out the best in us and make us more lively collaborators with the God of our salvation. The Reverend Professor Leslie Houlden |
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