All posts by Jane

Sermons

New life requires acceptance

New life requires acceptance

Sermon by Andy Wurm, Sunday after Ascension Day, 24 th May 2020

One of the hardest transitions in life can be the move from the way you want things to be, to the way they are, if they are not the same.

A book about how to be a parent to a teenager says that teenagers are a gift to their parents because they’re trying work out who they are in the world.

They’re a gift because their parents are usually about the age when they are going through the same process again. That’s because the parents are noticing that at least some of their dreams have not come true: thing haven’t turned out as they were meant to.

It’s a good thing to count your blessings. Probably more things go right and work out well than we acknowledge, yet we tend to take that for granted, and would all be happier if we paid attention to
that. That’s a good reason to have rituals for giving thanks for the good things, such as saying grace before meals and thanking God in our prayers. When we take everything that goes well for
granted, we may be ignoring how much others do for us, or the enormity of what is involved, for example, we can only eat a slice of bread because of all the people who grow and process the
grain, and beyond that lies the ecological processes and beyond that, the evolutionary processes.

Failure to express gratitude for good things may make our lives shallow, but failure to acknowledge the bad things can be worse. I don’t mean we should pay attention to every bad thing in our lives. It’s good if we can ignore a lot of that, but I’m referring to things which press on our spirit, such as when our dreams don’t work out, the loss of a job, or house, or money, or
perhaps regrets over something we did in the past. Bad things we have done or things that have happened to us, or have been done to us.

The usual way to deal with disappointments, grief and so on, is to redirect our desire, or let it go.

Benedictine sister, Joan Chittister, always wanted to be a creative writer, but her dream wasn’t granted. Through redirecting her energies, today she is one of the most read writers on spirituality.

When we can’t redirect though, we may have to let go. Let go of the dream, let go of our insistence that we achieve something, or that we be a certain type of person, or let go of our insistence that we be perfect, let go of our expectations of others. It’s good to want others to be their best, but we can take that too far, expect too much, and we all want others to treat us well, to be good parents, siblings, friends, partners or just human beings, but we’re all flawed, no-one is perfect.

It’s important that we continually forgive each other, because we all fall short of perfection. It helps to assume that others are as likely to be as imperfect as we are.

Letting go isn’t always easy when we’re dealing with something that really matters to us. I knew someone whose marriage had ended. She met a new man, but didn’t feel comfortable marrying him. She was stuck because she was holding on to two good things: one was her belief that marriage should be for life and the other was that she found a good bloke and wanted to marry him. She felt torn over which one to give up. I suggested neither.

In the New Testament, there are two Greek words which get translated as forgiveness, but neither of them actually mean what forgiveness means in English.

One means to set free from debt, as in forgive us our debts (in one version of the Lord’s Prayer).
The other means to walk on by and leave behind your obligations to act.

This was the case when the Greeks spoke of divorce as
‘forgiving a marriage’. In neither sense does forgiveness mean what the other person has done to you is to be forgotten. The emphasis is on setting the other (and yourself perhaps) free.

This means that forgiveness of others (and ourselves) allows us to continue holding the values we do, even as we release the other (or ourselves) from the consequences of failing to uphold them.

That woman could continue to believe that marriage is meant to last forever, while at the same time letting go of not achieving that, and then was free to marry her new man.

One of the strongest motivations for letting go of disappointment is that we get tired of it. The son of a mass murderer in England came to a point where he was tired of hating his father, despite what he’d done. It’s amazing how far we can go with this sometimes though – how weighed down we can be, how angry we can be, how much grief we can carry, before we are willing to let go.

Even dying may not be enough to force us to let go! A woman told me her dead husband kept appearing to her until she told him she had to go on without him.

Sometimes we need others to help us see that we have held on to something or someone for long enough.

Letting go is not always the answer though, in fact, I’m not sure it really ever is. Instead, what is needed is acceptance, which is like letting go, except that we retain something important about
what or who we were holding on to, and it is that which allows us to move on.

For example, when someone who is dear to us dies, we don’t want to let go of them, but if we ‘give them to God’, we haven’t really let them go, because through God, we remain connected to them. Wherever God is (which is everywhere), they are too, so instead of letting go, we are accepting that things are different. That doesn’t take away our grief, but may help us to grieve. We leave them ‘in God’s
hands, always close to our hearts’.

Last Thursday was Ascension Day, celebrating Jesus’ ascension into heaven. (see Acts 1:6-14).
Jesus rises into the sky, symbolically portraying his passing into heaven (for it’s a state not a place). That means he will no longer be present to his disciples in one place and one time, but will
be present in all places and times, and therefore always available as the divine Spirit within them.

It is because he will be with them in this new way that his disciples can cope with the loss of his old form of presence. They aren’t letting him go. They are accepting that what he was before will become something new. Giving him to God is allowing him to become more present to them. The one who was significant to them in times and places past, is freed from that, to become significant to them in an eternal sense.

In the same way, when we accept things in our lives that are not as we wish them to be, it allows them to be freed from the significance they had at one time and place, to acquire a new, eternal significance.

In that, the past, the person, the dream, even the mistake or failing, is not lost, but out of it, God creates something new for us.

That means a person is not someone who is just a successful writer
in spirituality, but a successful writer who once wanted to be a creative writer. Someone is not just a single person now, but someone who lost a partner, yet carries on. Those losses, wounds,
regrets, even failings, aren’t gone, they’re transformed, just as Jesus, present with us as the living Spirit of life, still bears the scars of crucifixion. Those things which we so wish weren’t in our lives,
are an important part of us. They help make us who we are, and are transformed into blessings if we can accept them, which is what allowing them to ‘ascend into heaven’ means.

Sermons

What we believe can make us more or less receptive to God

What we believe can make us more or less receptive to God

Sermon by Andy Wurm, Sixth Sunday of Easter, 17th May, 2020

Some years ago, a six year old girl named Lulu wrote a letter to God and asked her parents to post it. Being atheists, they struggled to know how to respond. In the end, they sent it to the Archbishop of Canterbury, at that time being Rowan Williams.

Lulu’s letter went like this: ‘To God, how did you get invented? From Lulu xo’.

This was the Archbishop’s reply: Dear Lulu, your dad has sent on your letter and asked if I have any answers. It’s a difficult one! But I think God might reply a bit like this –

‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.

Then they invented ideas about me – some of them sensible and some of them not very sensible. From time to time I sent them some hints – specially in the life of Jesus – to help them get closer to what I’m really like. But there was nothing and nobody around before me to invent me. Rather like somebody who writes a story in a book, I started making up the story of the world and eventually invented human beings like you who could ask me awkward questions!’ And then he’d send you lots of love and sign off. I know he doesn’t usually write letters, so I have to do the best I can on his behalf. Lots of love from me too. +Archbishop Rowan

Lulu’s father said he was touched by this more than he would have imagined. His scepticism about religion and his cynicism about the Anglican Church, didn’t dissolve, but he said that these things were quite easily put to the side in the face of the Archbishop’s kindness and wisdom. He had won his respect. As for Lulu, the letter went down well. She particularly liked the idea of ‘God’s story’. Although she said she had very different ideas, she thought the archbishop’s ideas were good.

A good thing about others asking about God, is that it’s a chance to clarify what God is for us. That was the case for St. Paul, upon finding an altar to an unknown God in Athens (Acts 17:22ff). Paul begins his response by noting how ‘extremely religious’ the people of Athens were, thus respecting their openness to more than they already understood or accepted, although his comment that they were ‘extremely religious’ can also mean ‘superstitious’. Such intentional ambiguity would be appropriate in regard to our society too, where religion is very much alive and well, yet much of it is of questionable value. I’m not just talking about organised religion, but all that functions in a religious manner, such as sport, nationalism, and worship of the self, for example. Paul uses the opportunity of the altar to an unknown god to introduce his beliefs about God to the people of Athens, and we are given the condensed version of his speech. Paul may have been simply trying to win people to his cause, but probably not, for there is much more at stake in sharing religious beliefs, e.g. in those days Christianity offered a way of deliverance from at least some forms of oppression. Beliefs can change lives.

There are situations in which it is appropriate for Christians to challenge existing beliefs or practices, but perhaps the most important contribution of Christian belief to our society is the simple sharing of ideas for people to consider. In this way people don’t ‘get’ converted, but may convert themselves (not necessarily to following Jesus, but converted to the same values he held). That doesn’t necessarily mean arriving at particular beliefs, but hopefully becoming more human.

The example of Lulu and the archbishop is a good one, where neither she nor her parents finished up believing what the archbishop believed, but did change their beliefs or their attitudes in response to his. And he no doubt, was affected by Lulu’s invitation. This is why often when we read scripture, the best outcome may be not what answers or further insights we get, but what questions are raised for us. Rather than being filled with more information, our minds and hearts are stretched.

When it comes to believing in God, there isn’t really one view, even within Christianity, so it’s pointless asking exactly what it is that Christians believe. In the bible, even within a single psalm, there can be contradictory statements about God. For this reason, Christianity isn’t so much a set of beliefs about God, as a set of rules to guide our formulation of beliefs about God. The church is therefore the community of people who use those rules. Like a game of footy, even though everyone plays by the same rules, it doesn’t mean their experience will be the same.

Beliefs are not the most important thing though. What matters most is how we act (for ourselves and also in relation to others) as well as how we connect with God, however, as six year old Lulu knew, what we actually believe still matters. If we are going to pray, for example, we need a God we are comfortable praying to. So, what rules help us believe in a God we are comfortable with? And by comfortable, I include room for a degree of discomfort, in the same way that a relationship with someone you love includes being challenged to become more.

When it comes to rules for shaping beliefs, the number one rule for me is the notion that here is only one God. The importance of that is that if there’s only one God, then there are no other gods, which means God has no competition. If that’s the case, then has God has no opponents which threaten, so God is therefore not against anything or anyone, either needing to remove them or defend against them. In short, God does not engage in rivalry. That means God’s love is for all. God is not on anyone’s side more than anyone else’s, although people may put themselves offside with God by engaging in rivalry themselves. If God does not engage in rivalry, then our value and the meaning of our lives are set, and we have no need to compete with others or pursue approval from others. We are free to be what God created us to be and free of our need for everything and everyone to be as we want. There is nothing we can do to make ourselves loved more by God, so we are free of guilt and shame for our shortfalls and also free to make mistakes as we explore how to be human with each other.

God’s unconditional love both exposes how we are caught up in rivalry and sets us free from it. If we are truly open to what that means, we must accept that we share in the human condition with every other person, and so in regard to our standing before God and our worth as individuals, we are no better than others, and those we judge worse than ourselves are not judged in that way by God. For that reason, by engaging in rivalry with them through our judgement, we close ourselves off from God’s love and the freedom it empowers us with. By judging others, we make judgement the source of our value and meaning. And in so doing, have moved away from belief in one God to idolatry.

Giving up our engagement in rivalry and allowing ourselves to be set free from its grip on us, does not mean that what we do and what others do doesn’t matter. We still have to find ways of responding to abuse and oppression that lessens harm and requires responsibility be taken, but that is different to judging the worth of ourselves and others, and the meaning of our lives.

Sermons

Believing in Jesus is inclusive living

Believing in Jesus is inclusive living

Sermon by Andy Wurm, Easter 5, 10th May 2020

It’s funny that these days, Christians find ourselves criticised for our beliefs by atheists, because one of the criticisms levelled at the early Christians was that they were atheists! They were considered atheists because they didn’t worship the gods which were popular in the Roman Empire at that time. They were also considered abnormal, due to misunderstandings about the nature of their worship and practices.

Today, those who are antagonistic to Christianity are more likely to see our beliefs as quaint, rather than atheistic. Ironically, many who consider themselves to be atheists, could be accused of being religious, because they engage in rivalry, which is a central feature of classical religion. It is we Christians who are more like atheists, because the God we believe in is nothing like the gods of classical religion, or the cultural alternatives, which function like gods.

Christians have not been free of engaging in rivalry though, despite the fact that our founder revealed it as the cause of the world’s problems. Since we are human, we face the same struggles as anyone else, but we should be at least committed to repenting of it. One way that Christians have and some still do engage in rivalry is to identify themselves as being different to those who are not Christian. Sometimes this develops into a sense of superiority. It can be in the form of judgementalism, including the belief that non-believers are going to hell. But perhaps the most dominant form is the desire to make everyone else like them, into Christians. All this, it seems, can be justified by the Bible, and especially today’s gospel passage (John 14:1-14).

Jesus’ words, I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me, seem absolutely exclusive. It’s hard to take that as anything else than that you have to be Christian to connect with God. And to reinforce that, Jesus talks about going to prepare a place for us (believers) in his Father’s house. In other words, when we die, we’ll go to heaven. Right? No. That’s not what he means. In fact, Jesus doesn’t actually mention heaven, so he’s not talking about when we die.

When we use this passage to claim any sort of superiority over others, or that in any way, we have something that others don’t, which makes us special, it completely contradicts everything Jesus stood for. Jesus didn’t say ‘I was friendly with people who were outcast, I was compassionate to those who were rejected by others, I was forgiving to people who’d done wrong, I ignored cultural differences and gender stereotypes, now forget all that, and judge people, condemn people for not being like you, tell people God is against them’. And Jesus didn’t die on the cross to free humanity from rivalry so that we could engage in rivalry by defining ourselves as not like those who are different to us. This is why it’s so inappropriate to use this passage to create a division between those of us who follow Jesus and those who don’t.

There is actually a great paradox here. As Christians, we repent of rivalry. We try not to let our lives be run by competition against others, wanting what they have or what they are. We try not to understand ourselves in terms of being different to others, not like that person, or those people. Especially, the gospel tells us not to understand ourselves as being unlike those society deems to be sinners. This is fundamental to being Christian. So, that makes us different to the rest of society (generally speaking), because the rest of society believes in rivalry. It values punishment for sinners, judgement of people who hold politically ‘incorrect’, or socially ‘incorrect’, views, it rewards those who get ahead of, or on top of, others. So, we are different in that way. But here is the great paradox: because we see forgiveness as being broken out of rivalry, we therefore have no need to define ourselves by how we differ from others. The more we live in the way that makes us different to mainstream society, the more we should see ourselves as the same as fellow human beings, and the more we should identify with them. That’s what Paul alludes to when he says that in Christ there is neither male nor female, Jew or Gentile, and we would add that in Christ, there is neither Christian or non-Christian. To be Christian and yet define yourself as unlike others because of it, is contradictory. Paradoxically, it is our very exclusivity which makes us so absolutely inclusive. We exclusively follow Jesus, who includes everyone in his embrace.

And what is Jesus’ embrace? It is God’s embrace. Philip says to Jesus ‘can you please show us God?’ Jesus replies that God has been with you all along, you silly man. This is what God looks like: someone enjoying meals with the respected and the outcasts, someone caring about those who are down and out and including those who are rejected. God looks like someone who is not interested in religion, custom or tradition which makes people into the acceptable and not-acceptable. And then ultimately, we know, and Jesus flags this by saying he’s ‘going to the Father’, this is what God looks like: a human being who will go to the cross for others. There is God and there is God’s embrace.

What then is Jesus talking about, when he mentions his Father’s house? The only other time he mentions his ‘Father’s house’ is when he’s talking about the temple in Jerusalem. So that’s what he’s talking about here too, but remember he said he’d tear that down and rebuild it in three days, which is his way of saying that instead of God coming into the world through the temple, God would now come into the world through him, for he would be the new temple. So Jesus becomes his ‘Father’s house’. But wait there’s more! Now he’s saying there are many dwelling places in his ‘Father’s house’. That means there’s lots of room in him. Room for what? Room for us, of course. Not just room for us to enjoy something others don’t have, but room for us to be what he is. In other words, for us to become him. So as Christians, we are becoming the artist formally known as Jesus, who was himself, the artist previously known as Yahweh. In other words, we are the body of Christ.

How profound is that!! We tend to put Jesus up on a pedestal. He’s the one we look to, as our saviour and example. And that’s okay, because we need that, but only so we can become what he is, by imitating him. That’s why at every Eucharist, we proclaim that we are the body of Christ.

This whole thing, about Jesus being the way to God and so on, is really saying something very concrete about us: that we are becoming the ‘place’ where people can meet God, but that only happens to the extent to which we imitate Jesus, which means repenting of rivalry, and instead of seeing ourselves as different to those who don’t follow Jesus, we identify with them. There is no them and us, only we. This movement towards others is the opposite of seeing ourselves in any way superior to others, or needing to make them like us. When Jesus says that later, people would do even greater works than he did, he’s alluding to how creative we can be when free of rivalry. This includes new and creative ways of working together, finding ways of appreciating one another, new ways of dealing with conflict. We know what it’s like to live with rivalry and conflict, but living without them is an unknown and can only evolve as we go. For that reason, sometimes the best way is to start with symbolic actions, such as washing others’ feet, passing peace to one another, sharing bread and wine or sharing Zoom worship together.

Sermons

Believing in Jesus is inclusive living

Believing in Jesus is inclusive living

Sermon by Andy Wurm, Easter 5, 10th May 2020

It’s funny that these days, Christians find ourselves criticised for our beliefs by atheists, because one of the criticisms levelled at the early Christians was that they were atheists! They were considered atheists because they didn’t worship the gods which were popular in the Roman Empire at that time. They were also considered abnormal, due to misunderstandings about the nature of their worship and practices. 

Today, those who are antagonistic to Christianity are more likely to see our beliefs as quaint, rather than atheistic. Ironically, many who consider themselves to be atheists, could be accused of being religious, because they engage in rivalry, which is a central feature of classical religion. It is we Christians who are more like atheists, because the God we believe in is nothing like the gods of classical religion, or the cultural alternatives, which function like gods.  

Christians have not been free of engaging in rivalry though, despite the fact that our founder revealed it as the cause of the world’s problems. Since we are human, we face the same struggles as anyone else, but we should be at least committed to repenting of it. One way that Christians have and some still do engage in rivalry is to identify themselves as being different to those who are not Christian. Sometimes this develops into a sense of superiority. It can be in the form of judgementalism, including the belief that non-believers are going to hell. But perhaps the most dominant form is the desire to make everyone else like them, into Christians. All this, it seems, can be justified by the Bible, and especially today’s gospel passage (John 14:1-14). 

Jesus’ words, I am the way, the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me, seem absolutely exclusive. It’s hard to take that as anything else than that you have to be Christian to connect with God. And to reinforce that, Jesus talks about going to prepare a place for us (believers) in his Father’s house. In other words, when we die, we’ll go to heaven. Right? No. That’s not what he means. In fact, Jesus doesn’t actually mention heaven, so he’s not talking about when we die.

When we use this passage to claim any sort of superiority over others, or that in any way, we have something that others don’t, which makes us special, it c0mpletely contradicts everything Jesus stood for. Jesus didn’t say ‘I was friendly with people who were outcast, I was compassionate to those who were rejected by others, I was forgiving to people who’d done wrong, I ignored cultural differences and gender stereotypes, now forget all that, and judge people, condemn people for not being like you, tell people God is against them’. And Jesus didn’t die on the cross to free humanity from rivalry so that we could engage in rivalry by defining ourselves as not like those who are different to us. This is why it’s so inappropriate to use this passage to create a division between those of us who follow Jesus and those who don’t. 

There is actually a great paradox here. As Christians, we repent of rivalry. We try not to let our lives be run by competition against others, wanting what they have or what they are. We try not to understand ourselves in terms of being different to others, not like that person, or those people. Especially, the gospel tells us not to understand ourselves as being unlike those society deems to be sinners. This is fundamental to being Christian. So, that makes us different to the rest of society (generally speaking), because the rest of society believes in rivalry. It values punishment for sinners, judgement of people who hold politically ‘incorrect’, or socially ‘incorrect’, views, it rewards those who get ahead of, or on top of, others. So, we are different in that way. But here is the great paradox: because we see forgiveness as being broken out of rivalry, we therefore have no need to define ourselves by how we differ from others. The more we live in the way that makes us different to mainstream society, the more we should see ourselves as the same as fellow human beings, and the more we should identify with them. That’s what Paul alludes to when he says that in Christ there is neither male nor female, Jew or Gentile, and we would add that in Christ, there is neither Christian or non-Christian. To be Christian and yet define yourself as unlike others because of it, is contradictory. Paradoxically, it is our very exclusivity which makes us so absolutely inclusive. We exclusively follow Jesus, who includes everyone in his embrace. 

And what is Jesus’ embrace? It is God’s embrace. Philip says to Jesus ‘can you please show us God?’ Jesus replies that God has been with you all along, you silly man. This is what God looks like: someone enjoying meals with the respected and the outcasts, someone caring about those who are down and out and including those who are rejected. God looks like someone who is not interested in religion, custom or tradition which makes people into the acceptable and not-acceptable.  And then ultimately, we know, and Jesus flags this by saying he’s ‘going to the Father’, this is what God looks like: a human being who will go to the cross for others. There is God and there is God’s embrace.

What then is Jesus talking about, when he mentions his Father’s house? The only other time he mentions his ‘Father’s house’ is when he’s talking about the temple in Jerusalem. So that’s what he’s talking about here too, but remember he said he’d tear that down and rebuild it in three days, which is his way of saying that instead of God coming into the world through the temple, God would now come into the world through him, for he would be the new temple. So Jesus becomes his ‘Father’s house’. But wait there’s more! Now he’s saying there are many dwelling places in his ‘Father’s house’. That means there’s lots of room in him. Room for what? Room for us, of course. Not just room for us to enjoy something others don’t have, but room for us to be what he is. In other words, for us to become him. So as Christians, we are becoming the artist formally known as Jesus, who was himself, the artist previously known as Yahweh. In other words, we are the body of Christ. 

How profound is that!! We tend to put Jesus up on a pedestal. He’s the one we look to, as our saviour and example. And that’s okay, because we need that, but only so we can become what he is, by imitating him. That’s why at every Eucharist, we proclaim that we are the body of Christ.

This whole thing, about Jesus being the way to God and so on, is really saying something very concrete about us: that we are becoming the ‘place’ where people can meet God, but that only happens to the extent to which we imitate Jesus, which means repenting of rivalry, and instead of seeing ourselves as different to those who don’t follow Jesus, we identify with them. There is no them and us, only we. This movement towards others is the opposite of seeing ourselves in any way superior to others, or needing to make them like us. When Jesus says that later, people would do even greater works than he did, he’s alluding to how creative we can be when free of rivalry. This includes new and creative ways of working together, finding ways of appreciating one another, new ways of dealing with conflict. We know what it’s like to live with rivalry and conflict, but living without them is an unknown and can only evolve as we go. For that reason, sometimes the best way is to start with symbolic actions, such as washing others’ feet, passing peace to one another, sharing bread and wine or sharing Zoom worship together.   

News

EASTER SUNDAY SERVICES

There will be Easter Sunday Services online from both Crafers and Bridgewater

 

CRAFERS

Led by Andy Wurm from Crafers Church:

Easter Day 11.30am

Streaming on the Parish Facebook page – https://www.facebook.com/stirlinganglican

BRIDGEWATER

Led by Barbara Messner

Easter Day 9.30am (but connection available from 9.20am)

Interactive via Zoom.

The link is: https://us04web.zoom.us/j/8357002111?pwd=UlFpOHZJQzhsT0gxdHllQ3dKTENSQT09

On Easter Day, please bring with you
1. A candle and matches, or a torch, or some other light to make shine (as our candle lighting at the beginning);
2. Bread and wine or some other food and drink, maybe chocolate or some other celebratory morsel (for an ‘agape’ meal in place of the Eucharist); and
3. Something that represents new life for you personally e.g. an object, picture, brief incident or recollection, something you can show or talk about very briefly (about 30 seconds to give space to all) as our shared reflection.
Do what’s comfortable to you – you are of course still welcome without any of the above.