Holocaust Memorial Day 2012

Memorial at Westerbork

I can’t escape the fact that in living memory 6 million Jews and countless millions of others were rounded up, transported, selected and executed by, in the main, baptised Christians.

The Shoah was, as it describes, a catastrophe for European Jewry and it remains, to this day, the darkest episode in the history of the Christian Church, a Church that, when it is minded to do so, still struggles to understand the consequences of almost two millennia of anti-Judaism.

The parable of the Good Samaritan, arguably one of the most famous stories ever told, is as good (no pun intended) a place to start as anywhere.  For too long many in our congregations have believed it to be about doing ‘good’, about being the one who stoops to help someone in need.  Bestowing titles upon the parables often does us no favours; ‘The Good Samaritan’ is a case in point.  You see, it’s not really about a Samaritan who comes to the aid of a victim on the dusty road to Jericho.  It’s much deeper than that. It’s about a guy who asked Jesus to tell him who is neighbour was so that he might love him.

And the answer is so shattering that the guy can’t even bring himself to utter the race, the ethnicity, the religion, of the one who had been of assistance to the victim.

Our neighbour includes the different, the one who doesn’t share our creed.

Our neighbour includes the one whose culture is alien to ours.

Our neighbour is someone we wouldn’t normally talk to, eat with, let alone love to the point of endangering our own existence.

When Jesus shared his parable with the guy who’d asked who is neighbour was he drew on an old story.

At the time of King Ahaz thousands of men, women and children of Judah were captured by Israel.  On their way back to Israel they had to pass through Samaria.  It was there that Oded stopped them.  He shamed the captors before they scurried off leaving behind the captives.  The newly-released were clothed, given sandals, provided with food and drink, anointed and carried on the backs of donkeys to, yes, Jericho before the good Samaritans returned home (2 Chronicles 28.9-15).

The guy who asked Jesus the question would have known his people’s history.  He just needed to be reminded of it.

Many of us in the Christian Church know our history.  We just need to be reminded of it on a frequent basis.  Holocaust Memorial Day is one such occasion.  We have walked by all too often when our neighbour has been in need; truth is we may even have been the perpetrator of the crime.

That is the sadness, the terrible, terrible sadness of not remembering who our neighbour is.

 

Though the fig tree does not blossom

Almost two thousand years and we still haven’t got it right!

Paul may have declared that ‘there is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female; for all are one in Christ” (Gal. 3.28).  But it doesn’t always seem that way.

This is why a descendant of his spiritual line would stand and share a dream:

that the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners would sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

that children would one day live in a nation where they would not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character.

Last week was Martin Luther King Day in the US and next year on 28 August it will be 50 years since the speech was delivered on the steps of Washington’s Lincoln Memorial.  Even though there is now a President of mixed race in the White House, even though much has been accomplished over the years there is still a very long way to go.  Slavery grips and wrecks the lives of many and not always that far from here in the form of sexploitation, people trafficking and ruthless employers paying well below the minimum wage.

Clearly all is not perfect in our world.

Almost two thousand years and we still haven’t got it right.

This is why German theologian and Church historian Adolf von Harnack is claimed to have said a century ago “Christ preached the Kingdom of God and we ended up with the Church.”

All is not perfect in our Church.

There is some recognition of this imperfection early on.  John’s account has Jesus in Gethsemane pleading for the disciples and their mission: protection, sanctification and unity are the themes of his petition. I can’t help but feel that these features were an issue for John’s community.

It didn’t take long for reckless disunity to rear its head.  And two millennia on the Church is spilt into a thousand and more expressions each with their own perspective and belief.

So much energy has been spent, particularly since the trauma of two World Wars to promote unity, both across nation states and Christian denominations.  Yet much of it has come to nothing.  We again live in an age of fractious decentralisation and a new desire for localism that may or may not be the best way ahead.  The theory is good, at first glance it is attractive but when the European Union fails or the United Kingdom is broken up in independence referenda what are we left with?

As Christians we live in hope; neither in a perfect state nor in a sense of a utopian ideal but in hope.  And hope is transformational.  We are in constant flux.  Suffering is part of life.  The struggle is ever present.  But holding on to a better way and a glorious outcome is the goal of all our longing.

How we face this challenge is key to how we live our lives and exercise our discipleship.

I often met a man on my morning dog walk.  He could often be seen waiting at a railway crossing, for his brother, a train driver who would be passing shortly.  ‘You will hear him toot his horn when he sees me’ he once said. And I did, about five minutes later when I was far from the crossing, I heard the horn.  But time passed without me seeing the man.  One day there he was, in his usual spot.  It was good to see him again and I told him so.  ‘Is your brother about to go by?’ I asked.  ‘I lost him’ he replied, ‘Christmas day, heart attack over the meal, in his forties’. The man was still there, paying homage to his brother and his memory.

Christ may have won for us victory over death and death may have lost its sting but such claims wouldn’t have helped my acquaintance in his sorrow.  It is presence, standing alongside, accepting the reality of the situation and embracing the sadness that will provide a longer term process of renewal and rejoicing in life again.

All is not perfect.

Two thousand years and we still haven’t got it right.

But we don’t give up.

We may live in age of uncertainly and fear but we don’t give up.  The economic downturn has reminded us of our frailty and the temporary nature of our existence; pension schemes collapsing, the cost of living rising, and a million 16-24 year olds out of work.  But we don’t give up challenging injustice and inequality.

We live in an age when the unity of the Christian Church may sometimes seem like a pipedream, where the aspirations of our recent past have faltered in the bureaucratic jungle of ecumenical jargon.  But we don’t give up on our relationships with one another as we seek to impact upon our wider neighbourhood.

We still live in an age where suffering and sin stalk our lives.  I was once asked, by another dog walker , how God could forgive Hitler.  My reply surprised her ‘I am sorry I don’t know, in fact I don’t know how he can forgive me.  But then again if I did know I would be God.’  We may struggle to comprehend infinite grace but we don’t give up on our quest for a deeper understanding of how God should be bothered with us.

The prophet Habakkuk was speaking at a time of great upheaval.  The world that he and his contemporaries had come to accept as the norm was about to be shattered, Babylon was rising in the east and the people of Judah were under threat of destruction.

Habakkuk echoes the sentiments of many.  What is this all about?  Why doesn’t God do something?

Then the book ends with the following passage:

‘Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will be joyful in God my Saviour.

The Sovereign LORD is my strength;
he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
he enables me to tread on the heights.’ (3.17-19)

 

Almost two thousand years and we still haven’t got it right!

In the world injustice and oppression remain.

In the Church disunity and division remain.

In life suffering and death remain.

Clearly all is not perfect.

But we don’t give up.

For still the Sovereign God strengthens me, lightens my load and lifts me to see a new horizon.

 

New Year

 

Swanholme Lakes. Lincoln

On this day a year ago I’d not heard of Harry Judd, Christine la Garde and Fukushima.

I’d heard of McFly and I knew they would have a drummer but until he became the star of Strictly Come Dancing in the latter months of 2011 I had no idea that his name was Harry Judd.

Twelve months ago our economy was as unstable as it is today but Christine Legarde was yet to be appointed the head of the IMF.  Now she is a regular feature of many a news bulletin appearing as she does like a sophisticated actress stalking the set of a gripping drama.

And in the Spring the world held its breath as theFukushima power plant teetered on the brink of a nuclear catastrophe.

No wonder we look to the New Year ahead with a mixture of fascination and fear.  There will be some events which we will have a reasonable confidence in taking place. But there are others that will come out of nowhere and take us by complete surprise.

Benjamin Franklin once quipped that ‘the two things that are guaranteed in this life are death and taxes’.  As an aside one might suggest ‘unless you are rich enough to avoid paying tax’.  ButFranklinwas making light of our inability to predict the future with any degree of certainty.

But there are many things we can predict.

• From infancy we learn that to touch something hot is painful
• In our teenage years we may discover that love is risky and we can get hurt if we commit ourselves to someone who doesn’t share our feelings.
• Few of us would be so foolish as to run a marathon without the necessary preparation.  I know for a fact that any jog beyond a couple of miles is beyond me.

The year ahead stretches out before us like some unchartered landscape.  There will be storms to face, islands to take refuge upon, caves to explore, hills to climb and we may get both excited and anxious at the prospect.  From experience we can predict many things.  If I live in a certain way there will be consequences.  Live faithfully and I stand a chance of living wholly.  Live haphazardly and I run the risk of making a real mess of my situation.

But there are unknowns in all of this.  A twist and turn here and there, something out of the blue, someone acting in a way that I had not anticipated will be occasions that I cannot predict and call for a whole new game plan.

Despite this, and in certain cases in spite of this, I know that God will remain true to us.  This is something that I have learnt from life experiences thus far.  We will not be alone in the coming year.  Every month, week, day, hour and minute is filled with God’s grace which is sufficient for all our needs.  This is the message of incarnation, God with us, in us, through us, beside us and before us.

Every blessing in 2012

The Prime Minister and Traditional Biblical Values

The Prime Minister’s address at Christ Church, Oxford on Friday 16 is to be welcomed, providing it is to be not a monologue but an invitation to open up a genuine conversation.  It is certainly encouraging that Mr Cameron recognizes the right of the Christian Church to be a contributor in political debate.

 

Clearly Mr Cameron is correct when he suggests that there is much to be done to heal society.  But he should also know that this is nothing new.  Poverty, frustration at a system that overlooks the needy and the inevitable dilemmas that arise when seeking to mend what he would term a ‘broken society’ have long been features of the world in which we live. We can look back on the past fondly but often we do so through rose-tinted spectacles.

 

We might begin by asking what sort of society Mr Cameron envisages was the ideal.  He claims it to be one based on traditional ‘Biblical’ values.  Is it one where children and women have few if any rights?  One where slavery and servitude prevailed?  Let us not forget that the status quo at one time was often supported by many within the Church; they did so from a Biblical viewpoint.  At the very same time contrasting statements called for a radical overhaul of society; again they were from a Biblical viewpoint.

 

So which ‘traditional’ viewpoint is Mr Cameron calling us to adopt in our own time?  Does he desire one where politicians are allowed to get away without criticism because they are ‘ordained’ by God or one where every act is open to the judgment of the Church?  It is not as simple as the sound bite suggests.  Life, as any Prime Minister ought to know, is complex.

 

Mr Cameron appears to suggest that by failing to be traditional the Church is somehow responsible for so many ills in society.  The factors that have led to the present condition are many and varied.  Inequality is the single most consistent feature of frustration in our nation and world.  It is simply unacceptable that so many live in poverty while the mega rich avoid paying their full share of the tax burden.  If the Prime Minister is serious about debating this matter then it may be worth asking whether more is to be done to curb the excessive salaries of senior executives when so many of our elderly are struggling to pay for heating in their homes this Christmas.

Born in us today

Prophets don’t see a different world to the one we see; they just see it in a different way.

Jim Wallis, social activist, evangelist and advisor to President Obama is often said to be a modern-day prophet.  He has recently visited the Occupy Camp outside St Paul’s.  He claimed that he could imagine Christ being born in the camp.

From what we know of the birth narratives the camp could be seen as a contemporary equivalent of the stable.  We have grown accustomed to believing in a Christ born in poverty, cast out from the more privileged in society.  And praise God that humble voices stifled by the loudly confident are still heard; that those who cringe in the corners for fear of abuse are gently and graciously drawn in; that those whose potential has been overlooked are valued.

Simon and Garfunkel may have hit the nail on the head when they sang that the ‘words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, or on the banners of the protesters, or in the daily seminars surrounding the cathedral.  But I live in the hope that the Christ may just as likely be born in the pew as well as the tent, the pulpit as well as on the protest, in the boardroom of a multi-national corporation, in the chambers of commerce, the corridors of power and on the trading floor of the city.  Why?  Because God is a God of Surprises, we cannot fathom the mind of God.  And if incarnation means anything then it means God may be born in any of us, rich and poor, influential and weak, powerful and excruciatingly vulnerable, anywhere and at any time.

That’s the good news.

Remembering the ‘Ordinary’

When I recall the level of sacrifice undertaken for my freedom I am almost speechless; which is why I believe that silence is the only true and appropriate form of remembrance on this day of
days.

Therefore I often look to the testimony of

• those who ran for their lives along the beach on D Day,
• those who longed to see port again while facing the mountainous waves on an Arctic
  convoy
• and those who traversed the skies on the lookout for a speck of movement above or
  below while on a raid over enemy territory.

Over the course of my ministry I have been deeply privileged to have sat with those who did these things.

I have also sat beside those who were not at the front but who were nevertheless an integral part of the fight for survival. Such people were not called to venture far from the community in
which they were born but their contribution was just as valid.

So I want to begin with a quote from Vassily Grossman’s epic novel Life and Fate. As the foremost Soviet war correspondent Grossman knew war at first hand. He witnessed the defence of
Stalingrad, the horrors of the Holocaust and the catastrophic fall of Berlin.

“Human history is not the battle of good struggling to overcome evil. It is a battle fought by a great evil struggling to crush a small kernel of human kindness. But if what is human in human beings has not been destroyed even now, then evil will never conquer.”

This statement makes it clear that war, as part of that human history, is not the battle of good struggling to overcome evil; it is evil seeking to snuff out the goodness of humanity.

Ordinary human beings rose from their seemingly insignificant corners of the world and from what would until then been relatively uneventful lives.  They came together at whatever cost to themselves and faced evil not just for their own sakes but for the benefit of generations yet unborn.  This is why today is so important.

Therefore I now want to share with you just one human story amongst the millions that were played out during the monumental struggle against the forces of evil that swept across Europe seventy years ago.

Elizabeth, who is still alive and living in the South West, appears to be an unassuming widow. When I first met her, Harold, her husband, was still alive.  He appeared sprightlier
and more eager to chat while Elizabeth sat humbly in her chair as if nothing much had ever happened in her life.  Being an inquisitive sort I slowly unwrapped some of their past.  Harold was pleased to have the opportunity to speak of the pride he had in Elizabeth.  Eventually I discovered that she had been the PA to the Chief of Naval Staff in Portsmouth at the time of D Day; I believe the first Wren to ever hold such an office.  But it was just one brief incident that summed up Elizabeth’s integrity, courage, and loyalty.

It was the last day of May 1944.  Harold, a young lieutenant, had a 24 hour pass and took his young fiancée to the cinema.  As they parted that night he turned to Elizabeth and said ‘I am free
again next week; shall we do the same again?’  Knowing the secrets of the invasion Elizabeth was fully aware of the fact that this was the last night she and Harold would have before the invasion
got underway.  She knew that Harold was about to be confined to barracks before embarkation. Elizabeth knew only too well that this could have been the very last time she saw her fiancé.

But to the invitation to meet again the following week she replied without hesitation ‘That would be lovely dear.’

This is just one story amongst millions, of one woman playing her part in one of the greatest moments in human history.

Vassily Grossman’s novel is full of similar, seemingly insignificant, incidents surrounding the
defence of Stalingrad, one of the other turning points of the Second World War.   I believe it to be
one of the finest accounts of war ever written; ordinary people who had lived ordinary lives doing ordinary things but as evil threatened to sweep away the goodness within rose to face the challenge in extraordinary ways.

But as Grossman concludes in the quote I offered earlier “if what is human in human beings has not been destroyed even now, then evil will never conquer.”

This is clearly evident in the life and teaching of Jesus. The genius that was Jesus is encapsulated in the Sermon on the Mount, in particular the Beatitudes. Evil cannot win. No matter what is thrown at the goodness of humanity –evil can never win; goodness has the final, victorious word.

We are told and perhaps we know from personal experience that when we are poor in spirit, utterly depressed, we will rise to a new dawn and experience all that is good, beautiful and whole.

When we mourn, when we grieve as never before and seem totally disconsolate we will be comforted in such a way that those who have never known what it is to suffer will not understand.

When we are desperate to find fulfilment in our lives and clutch at straws in an effort to climb mountains we will come to a point when we know it was worth every effort.

When we overcome the pressure and expectation of others who see it as weakness to express compassion toward those who have been put to one side by society we will find a whole new experience of what it is to be in community.

When we act with integrity and grace we will know what it is to carry deep within us something of God’s essence.

When we seek to reconcile warring factions by standing between them, or we seek to defend the weak against a powerful aggressor, we will be given boundless strength to act and a previously
unimaginable peace of mind.

And when others accuse us of doing wrong in our attempts to do what is right we will discover an audacious belief in both ourselves and the causes for which we stand and fight.

We know all this to be true because we have seen it in others.  We have heard or read their  estimonies.  And if we have been lucky in this life then we may have even experienced it for
ourselves.

The last word belongs to Geoffrey Wellum, one of the very youngest of the Few.

“Nobody wants a medal.  Nobody wants a ‘thank you’.  But it would be nice to be remembered because then you would think of all of us, not just those who survived.”

Remembrance

Longrun Meadow, Taunton

My own words never seem sufficient to describe the significance of Remembrance Day.  I therefore offer a quote from Vassily Grossman’s epic novel Life and Fate.  Grossman knew war at first hand.  He witnessed the defence of Stalingrad, the horrors of the Holocaust and the fall of Berlin.

“Human history is not the battle of good struggling to overcome evil.  It is a battle fought by a great evil struggling to crush a small kernel of human kindness.  But if what is human in human beings has not been destroyed even now, then evil will never conquer.”

Stand off at St Pauls

When I captured the above photo I had no idea that days later a protest would take place that has since had serious repercussions for the authorities responsible for the Cathedral in whose shadow these two young people sit.

Once the media coverage of the Occupy London encampment on the steps of St Pauls got underway I arose each morning and selfishly gave thanks that I was not a member of the Cathedral Chapter.

As a Christian I am called to stand alongside the poor, even become poor, but if I am honest how difficult I find that vocation to be.  I may be willing to speak against the injustices of our world, the abhorrent 50% salary increases for some CEOs, the outrageous conditions under which people live and can never escape no matter how hard they try, I may even give more of what little I receive (that is little in comparison to some of my contemporaries but much in comparison to the majority in our world) but what right have I to criticise the ex Dean and Chapter who must have faced a situation for which they had little or no experience?  When the Health and Safety issues are read out I wonder how I might have reacted.

We who believe in a forgiving God live in an unforgiving world.  The press that builds someone up
into a celebrity is, for readership figures, just as likely to destroy their creation.  Where would the armchair and distant-pulpit critics have been had things gone very badly wrong as a consequence of taking some inadvisable risk with the thousands around and within the Cathedral?

Yes some of us may have dealt with the situation differently; we’d certainly like to think we would.   But who can be so sure with limited knowledge of the context in all its complexity?

I seem to recall that Jesus said we were to be as wise as serpents and gentle as doves.  Maybe that
goes for those of us who will be nowhere to be found when the consequences of any action take place for our brothers and sisters in Christ.  In recent years some sections of the press have sought to batter politicians over expenses and rightly so we might say; then those bankers held to be responsible for some aspects of the economic crisis and rightly so we might say; but now it appears to be the turn of the Christian Church for failing to live out the gospel in the face of understandable
and justifiable protest and rightly so some may say but let us not add fuel to the fires being stoked by our critics who long to see the influence of the Church, indeed Christianity, or any faith for that matter, lessen or even end altogether.

There is an old proverb ‘You were a keeper of vineyards, you should have kept your own’.  How can I tend another’s field whilst my own is left uncared for?  How effective have my words and actions
against poverty, inequality and injustice elsewhere been while I have failed to deal with the very same issues right on my doorstep?  Has the church to which I belong kept its doors open to those on the steps longing to be recognised and valued?  Is what I do alien to those who are seeking partners in tackling the issues we should be together addressing?

Specks, eyes and logs come to mind.

The two people on the bench have their backs to one another; let us not turn our backs on those who criticise a failing system but nor turn them against those who are doing their best in difficult circumstances.

The Cross of Resurrection (detail)

The Cross of Resurrection (detail)

The Cross of Resurrection was created by Cornwall based artist Ben Lofts and was commissioned by the Jarvis Family for Temple Methodist Church, Taunton

 

The Cross of Resurrection, Temple Methodist Church, Taunton

A scarred Jesus stands tip toe off the empty cross.

His face is a mirror.

When we look upon him

we see ourselves reflected back,

all our agony and anguish,

all our fears and frustrations

giving us the hope of victory over adversity.

Quantock stone with its red veins

forms the base on which the cross is placed.

The Cross of Resurrection, Temple Methodist Church, Taunton

O God in Christ,

you took on the shame of rejection,

the pain of isolation

and the agony of a tortured death.

In the face of hostility, indifference and ridicule

you remained true to your Word,

providing for us

hope in times of despair,

companionship when others are nowhere to be found

and life at the last.  Amen.