It
is so good to be with you today. As many of you will know, I am being sent out
from here to offer half of my time, for the next two years, to the neighbouring
parish of St Nicholas’. And while I am still often around the Minster during
the week, at present I am not here with you three Sundays out of four. And that
is the cost of partnership for the sake of the gospel, for, while it is a joy to
be with the saints at Barnes, and despite all your grievous faults, I do miss
you. And I do hope that many of you will be able to join me at St Nicholas’
this evening, as I am formally commissioned.
I
want to highlight two texts for us today, if I may. From our Old Testament
reading, ‘the joy of the Lord is your strength’, and from our reading from the
Gospel, ‘to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour’. The joy of the Lord is
your strength; and, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.
And
I would like to tell you a story. Some of you know that Jo and I run. We
regularly do parkrun on a Saturday morning—for those who don’t know, parkrun is
now an international movement where people get together to take part in a free,
weekly, timed five-kilometre run/jog/walk. We’re also members of one of the
local running clubs, Sunderland Strollers, and we run with them a couple of
evenings a week.
Anyway,
Friday is our day off together, and recently we’ve dropped the boys off at
school and gone for a ten-kilometre run. One of our favourite routes is a loop
from Seaburn to Souter lighthouse and back again, along the England Coast Path.
Last week Jo realised that we weren’t aware of the wind at our back, assisting
us, as we ran north; but that we were aware of the wind in our face, resisting
us, as we turned around and headed back south. And she wondered how often we
are oblivious to the Holy Spirit carrying us along, quite pleased with how our
lives are going without any help; only to wonder where God is when things aren’t
plain sailing?
We’ve
all known times when we find ourselves asking, “Why is life such a struggle,
Lord?” It might be a struggle because we are running away from God. Or it might
not. It might simply be because the wind blows, and there is often turbulence
in our experience of life: in our families and friendships, in our finances, in
our work.
But
having the wind in our face is, at least, always an invitation to be aware of
God’s Spirit. To shift from asking, “Why isn’t
God in this with me?” to asking, “Where is
God in this?” And not only in this, but also, “Where else is God in my life,
and I have been unaware?” That’s what repentance is: to turn around, and look
out on a different perspective. Like getting to the lighthouse and turning around
and having a view of Sunderland that was there all along, behind us.
Sometimes
everything is going well because the wind of God’s Spirit is carrying us along.
And sometimes circumstances are against us, but God still gives us the breath
we need to carry on, to keep going—strength renewed, joy in hardship. Joy is
not dependent on circumstances, but given to help us overcome circumstances.
The
year of the Lord’s favour may well mean the wind is at our back more than in
our face; but it doesn’t mean that the wind won’t
blow in our face.
The
wind in our face when the Minster is repeatedly vandalised; when we have our
asylum-claim rejected; when we must deal with aging bodies breaking down. The
wind in our face when our children are struggling at school; when the human
need on our doorstep seems overwhelming.
‘If
one member suffers, all suffer together with it…’
And
the wind at our back—the joy, the favour—when we can count thirteen different
nationalities worshipping together at the Minster; when our asylum-appeal is
successful; when opportunities we thought had passed us by come back to us. The
wind at our back when our children succeed; when lives are touched and made
whole by love.
‘…if
one member is honoured, all rejoice together with it.’
We’re
still in the Season of Epiphany. Of moments when a light comes on in a dark
house. Where joy surprises us in the midst of despair, and fires our bones and
fills our lungs with air. Where we experience the Lord’s favour, God come
alongside us and making all the difference in the world—release from our
captivity—for those whose eyes are opened. May we be such people.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment