Sunday, 24 November 2019

St David, Barbados Christ the King 24 November 2019

It’s good to be back in the Caribbean from the UK once again. 30 years ago I helped train the second batch of Amerindian priests in Guyana at the former Alan Knight Training Centre on a three year USPG secondment. That was when I first met Fr Noel. Our friendship built up, along with Hazel and the girls, around the time of the 1998 Lambeth Conference when we exchanged Vicarages, St Patrick, Barbados for St Saviour, Alexandra Palace in London. That’s when our family discovered Miami Beach where we’re currently staying with our other Bajan friends, Bishop Wilfred and Ina Wood.

Over the years I’ve returned to visit Codrington College and Guyana on Sabbatical. I live now in Haywards Heath, halfway between London and Brighton, surrounded by Sussex countryside. That’s not been my experience most of my time with parishes or diocesan work based in Doncaster, Coventry and London. To visit Barbados has always been a privilege, besides the warmth of environment - and people - to take time away from air polluted Britain. Living on an island like this, so close to paradise, isn’t without its ecological challenges, but it seems a long way from the environmentally challenged world I live in most of the time.

I visit London often, just a 45 minute train ride away. In recent months traffic there’s been halted by hundreds of young people under the banner ‘Extinction Rebellion’ making a strong point about the need for action on climate change. In consequence the current UK election campaign has strong focus on better care for the environment. It’s also got another key element, Brexit - a move, which if successful - I’m a cynic - will at least lead the UK more into engagement with the Caribbean - if you want us, of course! Anyway it's the environment I want to speak to this morning from a Christian perspective.

My doctorate was on the forces between the chains in polythene and Teflon. I wrote it years ago when I was involved in Chemical research. It’s won me the nickname ‘non-stick-vicar’. I wish that were true!  From that scientific work on what holds polymers together I’ve now moved forward to another concern - what holds the universe together, what’s at the heart of our environment as mortal beings. We’re here this morning to celebrate the One who does just that – Jesus Christ. He holds all things in being we heard in the reading from Colossians and he’s bringing all things together in himself. 

My mission as a priest is to help people know Jesus and the truth that’s in Him, truth that’s married to the wider body of human truth that’s emerging day by day as the world evolves.

The gentle reign of Christ the King is over hearts and minds. In my life time no one has been a better teacher on ecology than the French priest scientist and mystic Teilhard de Chardin.   

For Teilhard the Jesus whose reign today’s second reading announces is the one who holds all things together and who leads us forward to a fulfilment that will coincide with his majestic return.

The whole cosmos is like an inverted cone with the movements within it converging upon Jesus as the apex or omega point. Our individual futures, the future development of St. David’s and of the whole church and the future of Barbados and the whole created order rests in Jesus and is to end in Jesus.

‘You have so filled the universe in every direction, Jesus’ wrote Fr. Teilhard, ‘that from now on it is blessedly impossible for us to escape you…Neither life, whose progress reinforces the hold you have on me; nor death which throws me into your hands, nor the good or bad spiritual powers which are your living instruments; nor the energies of matter, into which you are plunged;…nor the unfathomable abysses of space, which are the measure of your greatness;…none of these things will be able to separate me from your substantial love, because they are only the veil, the “species”, under which you hold me so that I can hold you’ (Le Milieu Divin 1957).

His last reference draws an analogy that as Jesus is hidden under the species of bread in the Holy Eucharist so that he can come to us and change us into himself, so Jesus is hid in the creation itself as the binding force, as joy and sorrow visible to the eye of faith.

Teilhard teaches me that when I as a priest in his name - and your name - say ‘This is my body…’ over bread and ‘This is my blood’ over wine, something spills out from the altar mystically across the church and its surrounds. ‘This priestly act extends even beyond the transubstantiated host to the cosmos itself’ Teilhard writes.

Wondrous stuff – but Christianity is exactly such! Jesus holds you together. He holds Barbados together – or he would hold Barbados together, not overriding free will but by compelling love. All we need is to see Jesus mystically in the sacrament and in all the people and things in our lives as one who beckons us forward into ever greater audacity for him. The audacity of young people in the Extinction Rebellion and counter climate change movement across the world calling for action is inextricably linked to what we are about here in St David’s every Sunday, and day by day beyond that, in the celebration of the Holy Eucharist.

Blessed art thou, Lord God of all creation…this is your body…this is your blood…this bread and wine, our lives and potentially the lives of all those linked to ours in the marvel of the created order. 

Jesus whose reign today’s Feast announces is the one who holds all things together and who leads us forward to a fulfilment that will coincide with his majestic return. 

Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom! the penitent thief cried. It was a last minute cry but it was effective. What many are about at this time is a similar last minute cry but, inasmuch as it is linked to the bringing of all things together in Christ, it will be an effective cry.

God loves all that is just because it is - his love for you and I who bear his image is no less than his love for this troubled earth we stand on, where, in him, ‘we live and move and have our being’.

Above the altar in London’s Westminster Abbey where we crown Kings and Queens there’s this text from Revelation: ‘the kingdoms of this world are become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ’. It’s a text reminding those preparing to lead of the greater leadership we celebrate today. 

At every Eucharist we plead his Sacrifice with an anticipation of the renewal of all things by the Spirit of Christ, whose work at this altar both mirrors and effects the healing of the universe. As we offer ourselves as a living sacrifice this morning, we do so in union with Christ our King and his aspiration to change us, to change Barbados, to change the environment as God desires, to whom, Father, Son and Holy Spirit be ascribed, as is most justly due, all might majesty dominion and power henceforth and for evermore. Amen.

Saturday, 2 November 2019

All Saints Festival at St Bartholomew, Brighton 3.11.19

Christianity is about contemplation, communion and change.

As a cyclist I give energy to my bike hub which is transferred through a set of spokes to get the wheels moving.

Today’s Festival of All Saints is a challenge to get more on the move for God through deeper recognition of the hub of prayer and spokes of fellowship in moving us forward on the road to glory.



A few thoughts under these three headings: contemplation, communion and change.

First, contemplation which is as much at the heart of reality and Christianity as it is at the heart of All Saints Feast. St John describes the ultimate purpose of our lives as purification so as to be capable of seeing God in the population of heaven. ‘Beloved, we are God's children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is. And all who have this hope in him purify themselves, just as he is pure.’ (1 John 3:2-3)

At the hub of reality is God whose Son, as God and man, draws human beings into God’s own self-contemplation, the Father of the Son in the Holy Spirit, catching us into God’s own life so as to be energised. On earth contemplation of God is sporadic, by you and me, people of faith, in the midst of the uncoordinated chaos of life. In heaven saints purified from self-regard gaze in coordination upon the perfect goodness, truth and beauty of God. Through them, through the hub of their contemplation and intercession, God’s power flows into the world. 

Words crack in talking of such things. Because of the incarnation the heavenly hub of contemplation draws mortals into God’s praise and service through, with and in Jesus Christ. Heaven is the depth of earth seen by faith so that our prayer is always  allied to the powerful hub of contemplation we celebrate on All Saints Feast. It’s power is captured by Paul in his second letter to Corinth: ‘All of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.’ (2 Corinthians 3:18)

Contemplation leads to change, to transformation, from the image into the likeness of God, ‘from one degree of glory to another’. Today we are reminded of the thousands beyond this world who possess such likeness and glory and the unclouded vision of God.

They are, to enter our second consideration, in communion with us, spokes carrying an overflow of energy from that hub of the contemplation of God to get the world moving heavenwards. ‘You have knit together your elect’ All Saints Collect says, ‘in one communion and fellowship in the mystical body of your Son Christ our Lord’.

Just as the power and direction of a bicycle flows to the wheels through spokes so the power and direction of the Holy Spirit energises the world through the communion of saints in heaven and on earth. ‘Therefore with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven we proclaim God’s great and glorious name’. Our contemplation, like that of the saints above, is never on our own. Paul asks in Ephesians that we may ‘have power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth… of … the fullness of God’ (Ephesians 3:18-19). In other words we only see God fully together with others. 

‘A heaven of souls without Christ would not be heaven’ Austin Farrer writes. ‘Could we not say the same about a heaven of Christ without souls? Christ is not only God in man, he is God in mankind; God in one man isolated from all others would not even be God in man, for a man in isolation is not a human possibility’. 

All Saints Festival is a feast of humanity put into its right mind. Against the individualism of the age the Church presents this unvarying challenge: in the last resort there are but two options, to have God in communion with the saints or to have nothing but yourself. 

It’s a troubling thought, isn’t it, that we will need to shelve judgmental thinking to take our place with the Saints. That great Christian thinker Thomas Merton puts this reality of heavenly communion in a hopeful way writing: ‘The saints are glad to be saints, not because their sanctity makes them admirable to others, but because the gift of sainthood makes it possible for them to admire everybody else’.

Contemplation, communion then thirdly change. If the hub of Christianity is contemplation, its spokes are the communion of saints. Through the corporate prayer of saints in heaven and on earth the power and direction of Christ’s Spirit moves wheels - in us, around us, energising, changing the cosmos. 

All Saints Feast is a day of obligation for attendance at the Eucharist because it is in worship we best learn from and find transformation from engaging with the adoration of heaven. As we look to the Lord in this action of taking, blessing, breaking and sharing our lives are taken, blessed and transformed. 

The eucharist like a bicycle draws power and direction from the hub of Christ’s contemplation of the Father. This energy of adoration is conveyed by the spokes of a fellowship meal. It’s consequence is the transformation not just of worshippers offering ‘ourselves, our souls and bodies’. What we are about at All Saints Mass, or at any Mass, is changing the world, looking as written in Revelation 11:15b for ‘the kingdom of the world [to] become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ’.

This morning as we contemplate God in communion with the saints we are changed - and so is the world weighing on each of our hearts. In pleading  this memorial sacrifice of Christ’s death and resurrection we are lifted into the heavenly hub of adoration, in communion with the Church in paradise and on earth, to effect the consecration of all that is to God’s praise and service.

I end with the last paragraph of a sermon on heaven by Austin Farrer: ‘There light spills evermore from the fountain of light; it fills the creatures of God with God as much as they will contain, and yet enlarges their heart and vision to contain the more. There it is all one to serve and to pray, for God invisible is visibly portrayed in the action he inspires. There the flame of deity burns in the candle of mankind, Jesus Christ; and all the saints, united with him, extend his person, diversify his operation, and catch the running fire. That is the Church, the Israel of God, of which we only exist by being the colonies and outposts, far removed and fitfully aware; yet able by faith to annihilate both time and distance, and offer with them the only pleasing sacrifice to God Almighty, Father, Son and Holy Spirit; to him ascribing, as is most justly due, all might, dominion, majesty and power, henceforth and for ever. Amen.’