COLIN SEMPER

SERMON 3 of 5 – 10/02/2008

THE DESCENT INTO SECULARISM

In the first of these addresses on the descent into secularism I said that we had diminished God in order to make God acceptable to a godless generation. And whilst this was utterably honourable, it has been a fundamental mistake. In the second address I said that we had failed to communicate a distinctive Christian spirituality and so the New Age Movement of self realisation has taken over instead of there being a God-Centred and God-Given inner life.

Now, today. Our Church, indeed the Christian church in the UK, has fiddled about with its own life instead of telling its stories of faith. A politicisation has taken place, producing fragmentation. For example, we have Forward in Faith – Catholic Anglicans, mainly, against women’s ordination. Then we have Affirming Catholicism – Catholic Anglicans in favour of women priests. Then there is Reform – Evangelical Christians against women priests. Then there is Anglican Mainstream backing scriptural truths, Biblical morals. Then there is Global Anglican Future Conference, an alternative to the Lambeth Conference. Then there is Inclusive Church – which is what it says – open to everyone regardless of gender, race and sexual orientation. Actually I’m a member of this.

What I’m saying is that all these movements have stopped us telling our stories of faith. What do I mean?

Would I be right in saying that one of the prime reasons why we come to a place like St. Peter and St. Paul is for the TRUTH – about who we are and who God is - the truth about life, death. The truth about truth itself. This is the truth that all of us are after is it not? The trouble is that no words, no doctrine, no creed can contain THE truth because it is always moving, shifting like air. So, whenever Jesus tries to put the ultimate, inexpressible truth into words (as opposed to silence) the form Jesus uses shifts and shivers and beckons us from different directions. That is to say – he tells stories.

No-one in that library called the Bible tells stories like Jesus – he was a “once upon a time man”. Once upon a time someone went out to sow some seed, throw a party, look for a coin, climb a tree, drift down to Soho. “I will open my mouth in parables”, he said “I will utter what has been hidden since the foundation of the world. “ And isn’t it the case that the hiddeness and the utterance are both true. And that’s why stories are a good way of talking about God’s truth, which is part hidden and part uttered as well.

When we sit around the table as a family, with, perhaps, some others, my sons have been known to groan when they sense the appearance of a so-called funny story of family history; they call it the Cringe Factor. But I fear that is what has happened to Gospel stories for those very few who know them in our society now. People like us have nurtured them – explained the life out of them. We have pounded the point with such power that all you can hear is the sound of the sledgehammer. And the implication of this is that as soon as you’ve got the point, then you can throw the story away.

Whereas, isn’t the point of Jesus’ stories that they point to the truth about you and me and our stories. We’re the ones who’ve been mugged on the road between Jerusalem and Jericho, we’re the ones who pass by, we’re the ones who fork out to help. So the truth of the story isn’t a motto you hang on the wall, it is the truth that, God help me, we live out every day of our lives,

The stories Jesus tells us are about us. Once upon a time is OUR time. So the point isn’t just to see the point, but to see ourselves, each other, God, life – lit up for a moment by lightning.

But – that isn’t all. Jesus isn’t just a rich story teller, spinning tales of surprise, sudden renewal, Jewish comedy, a kind of Lionel Blue in whom we see ourselves, each other, God, life. Jesus doesn’t just tell stories – he himself IS the story. He is the words made flesh, the truth told in space and time. He is the one who scandalises decent folk with his eating and drinking, the company he keeps. He is the one who tells us to love our enemies and then tells his enemies that they’re a bunch of vipers. He is the truth, the whole story of him. And the problem of the Christian life – or so it seems to me – is that he won’t let us settle for any truth less than that. Put another way, it’s possible to be joyful in his presence, it’s also possible to be scared. Yes, scared, because he doesn’t tell us, fundamentally, to be this or that, but to be HIS. And a kind of miracle happened that it’s not just talk 2000 years old – but we trust that when we’re clinging on to him for dear life – that is what he is – dearest life - that’s his story.

So, his story mingles with ours, ours with his and all the stories cross like searchlights in the sky. And in the end they’re all one story, the story of being human, being together, being true. And frankly it either makes sense or it doesn’t. Life is holy, with meaning or it doesn’t mean a damn thing. In Christian terms, we choose to believe Jesus’ story, or we don’t. And Jesus’ story is a love story, a truth story about who we are, who God is. It’s about where we’re going and what we will find when we get there. This is what is important.

And I was going to end by pulling John’s leg – saying there are not many stories of faith in the General Synod of the Church of England meeting this week. It’s not appropriate. Because John goes to a riven church and to a meeting which is a precursor to the Lambeth Conference. Our church faces an open MARRIAGE between the factions on homosexuality, or a trial separation (especially between Africa and America) or a complete divorce.

And tomorrow I head out to the National Episcopal Centre in North Carolina and to a schism, which is not a possibility but a reality.

Amen