Posts Tagged ‘opportunity’

Change and disruption

November 13, 2021

 

Pentecost 25 – 2021

Mark 13:1-11

Marian Free

 

In the name of the God of our past, present and future. Amen.

Given that that the Bible was written by men in a patriarchal world, a world in which men and women had clearly defined roles and in which pregnancy and childbirth would have been entirely the province of women, it is extraordinary that there are more than a few occasions on which images of pregnancy, childbirth and mothering are used for God and for the journey of faith. Sometimes they are used to describe God’s intimate love and care. They evoke God’s promises – the barren woman will bear seven-fold (Is 54), God’s love – I took them up in my arms (Hos 11), God’s comfort – as a mother comforts her child, God’s compassion – can a mother forget her nursing child and God’s protection – I will be as a bear robbed of her cubs (2 Sam 17).

 

At other times, as today, the pain and the violence of childbirth is used to bring to mind the trauma and disruption that can precede change. This is exemplified in the Song of Hannah (echoed in the Song of Mary) that speaks of upheaval – the bows of the mighty are broken, the powerful are brought down, the poor are raised from the dust and the lowly are lifted up.

 

In our scene from this morning’s gospel the disciples were no doubt expecting Jesus to join them in their admiration of the Temple – after all it was the centre of their faith, the place in which sacrifices were offered to God and to which faithful Jews came for the major festivals of their faith. They must have been completely taken aback by Jesus’ response that not one stone would remain upon another. It would have been completely impossible for them to imagine that within decades of Jesus’ death a new expression of their ancient faith would have been brought to birth and that many of the things that they now considered sacred would not only have been destroyed but would have lost their meaning. How could they conceive that the anointed one, the one for whom they had waited for so long would be the cause of a deep rupture between all that they had known and the future that he was initiating?

 

 

Many of us like the disciples resist change. When everything is going smoothly it is difficult to imagine that there can be any benefit in letting of of the comfortable and familiar. Worse, as our reading suggests, change can be violent and destructive and there are times when the old must be destroyed to allow room for the new to emerge. It can be difficult to see new possibilities while the old structures and the old ways of doing things remain in place and it is often only with hindsight that we can see the benefits that accrued from what had appeared to be a catastrophic event. (Who, for example, would have imagined that a rag-tag bunch of foolish and non-comprehending disciples would have transformed not only their faith, but the whole world along with it? Who could have predicted that anything good could have come out of a pandemic? Yet a bunch of uneducated men and women spread the gospel to the world. And the pandemic has shown us how we can connect without being face-to-face.)

Today’s gospel is a timely reminder that nothing lasts for ever and that even the greatest of edifices can fall. It is also a caution against holding too tightly to the past and of failing to be open to the opportunities offered by the future. 

We are, all of us, on the threshold of change, myself to a future that is not yet fleshed out and you to the adventure of a new period of ministry. It will not be the sort of catastrophic change that our gospel refers to and it will be experienced differently by all of us. At the same time, the future is full of potential and I am confident that any trepidation that we might feel will be more than balanced by a sense of anticipation and excitement as to what that future might hold.

You will have forgotten the disruption that occurred when I (the first woman to have the cure of this Parish) burst on the scene and I am certain that you now take for granted the many changes that have occurred over the last 14 years. There will be a great many things that you will remember as always having been here, or always having been done in a particular way. That will not be true. This is not the Parish I came to 14 years ago. Stalwarts have gone to God and many new faces have joined us. New groups have formed and some have fallen by the wayside. There have been subtle changes to the way we do liturgy and there have been numerous physical changes to both the church and grounds and now we take it for granted that this is how it should be.

That doesn’t mean that this is how it should stay. In the past few weeks, I have become increasingly convinced that the Holy Spirit is present in the timing of this handover, that this is absolutely the right time for another person to take the Parish on the next stage of your journey and that God has wonderful things in store for all of us.

We, like the disciples, are on a journey of discovery, always on the move, always trying to be open to the Spirit and the will of God. No one knows where the road will take us, but we continually leave the past and present behind us to step out in faith, following Jesus, confident that we will  be asked to do more than we are capable of and that we will never be abandoned to face the journey alone.

 

May God bless us all in whatever lies ahead.

 

 

 

Until we meet again

March 20, 2020

Lent 4 – 2020– the day on which we closed the church for the first time in 100 years
John 9:1-41
Marian Free

In the name of God who sustains us through the darkness of night to the dawn of a new day. Amen.

COVID 19 is anything but funny, but there are a number of people who are refusing to lose their sense of humour and who are bringing smiles to our faces. On Facebook a couple of weeks ago someone posted the statement: “I didn’t think I’d have to give up this much for Lent.” Those of us who have decided to forgo alcohol or chocolate during Lent, are now giving up, or being forced to give up, our social activities and our food choices are limited by the panic buying of others. “I didn’t think I’d have to give up this much for Lent.”

Today as we gather in person for the last time for who knows how long, Lent provides the most apt metaphor for this experience. For the sake of each other and for the safety of our community we are being asked to give up something that for many of us is our life-blood – the nourishment through Word and Sacrament that sustains us and the community that supports us.

For most of us these are unprecedented times and the virus is only a part of it. We ourselves do not yet know the effect of having the virus or knowing someone who has it, but we cannot be unaware of the economic strain that physical separation is being faced by a great number of our community, including, I imagine many of you. Employers are reluctantly letting go of casual staff as they face the possibility that their own source of income has dried up. Those who work in businesses that require close proximity to their clients will have to close their doors. People who have never been out of work may find themselves at Centre-link and those who rely on the stock market are finding their incomes drastically reduced.

Socially and personally there are costs. As Aged Care Centres go into lock-down, families are separated from loved ones who may be past the stage of using social media – if they ever could and are finding themselves unable to offer the care that they would wish to. In this Parish we are having to put into recess some of the activities that connect lonely and vulnerable people with the wider community. Social isolation for those who live alone or the pressure of spending more time with each other for those who don’t will undoubtedly have serious consequences.

For many it is already a time of anxiety on many fronts and for some recovery might be slow and long. We must pray daily that those who are suffering financially, physically or socially are given the resources to survive and the strength to continue.

And still, we are among the lucky ones. We live in a country with a well-resourced health system, and a stable government. The inconveniences and losses we will experience cannot compare with those of the millions who are languishing in refugee camps or living in war zones with little food and little to no medical support.

It causes me great sadness to forbid you to come to worship, but I have come to see that this is a novel and extraordinary way to spend Lent, even if it is a longer Lent than we had expected. A time of separation from those things that sustain us, a time in the wilderness is a gift that we don’t often allow ourselves in the midst of our day-to-day lives. Now that we are being forced to stay away from our usual social and spiritual activities, we have an opportunity connect with God at an even deeper level and to reaffirm our trust in God through good times and through bad.

It is true that we probably won’t be able to gather for Good Friday this year, but that will make it the most extraordinary and profound Good Friday ever – going without the one thing that really makes it Good Friday! We don’t need to be here to intentionally stop and reflect on that moment when God seemed truly absent. The loss and grief of being unable to gather in this place will help us to share Jesus’ cry: “My God, my God, why?!” and to reflect on Jesus’ willingness to give up everything so that we might have life.

And Easter – what will it be like to celebrate Easter without gathering together to sing those wonderful triumphant hymns that are a reminder that we have pulled through the darkness to the light on the other side? It may feel so empty and even joyless, but I would encourage you to think of this as an extended Lent that will end when the crisis is deemed to be over. Then what celebrations will there be! Easter and new life will never have seemed so real and we will affirm for another year that: “Jesus lives! Thy terrors now can no more O death enthrall us!” and join in singing other hymns that assert Jesus’ victory over the grave.

This is an unusual moment in time and your clergy team, your wardens and Parish council will do all that we can to support you through it.

My friends be strong, be careful, care for each other, be safe and above all keep the faith until we meet again to proclaim the new life that awaits, to remind ourselves that nothing, not even death, can separate us from the love of God and that not even the grave could contain Jesus our Saviour and our friend.