Pentecost 2004
Acts 2.1-21, Psalm 104.26-37, Romans 8.14-17, John 14.8-17.
What is it that we automatically think off when it comes to Pentecost? Usually, it is the preaching of the Gospel in other languages, and in most churched there will be at least one of two people who will participate in the reading speaking in a language other than English. We make an automatic assumption that all English speakers speak the same language. I want to make the point that we don’t.
Different groups within English speaking society use different language, different words and expressions, different mannerisms, different cultural traditions which convey meaning. It is a way of that group making a distinction between the group and the surrounding culture. You only have to look at the language of young people. For example, lets be controversial and look at the changing usage of the word “gay”.
Once upon a time it meant happy. It then came to be used as an alternative word to some quite nasty terms to describe a person of same-sex orientation. Now young people ( and others) use the word to describe something that is not cool. Cool in itself is another word, that can mean a colder temperature, or can mean something that is good or nice or pleasurable. Something that is quality. Back in Victoria, grouse was a word that was in common usage to describe something that was good. When something was really good, it was bloody grouse. However when I first came here to Adelaide, and used the term at work, the guy next to me said “What the hell does that mean?” To him I was speaking another language.
Sometimes we are even unsure what we are saying ourselves. I was thinking about the words to one of the hymns we were singing last week, and some of them that I didn’t fully understand. They were English, and perhaps they were words in common usage 200 years ago, but they aren’t now. We often wonder why we have trouble attracting young people to church on Sundays. And it’s this issue, especially in relation to children, that I want to address today.
What are we saying to children with what we offer them in church on Sunday mornings? We offer children a Sunday school at the 9.30 service with things for them to do, and in this we are giving them something of a spiritual experience and teaching. This is all well and good. I would like you all to think about what it is we really offer children. We send the children to a room that at this time of the year is cold, whilst the adults stay here in with heated seats no less, to keep us comfortable and warm. The Sunday school have the distraction of people wandering through the room after the 8am service cuppa and toast. Think about this building. We have a dedicated space for our adult worship, not a multi purpose thoroughfare. If people wandered through here all the time chatting and stuff, what would our reaction be? We would be suitably horrified I think, and stern words would be said to the rector about it, and with good reason. We might end up feeling that we had been cheated out of an experience of worship. We might feel that the distraction made it so that we couldn’t concentrate on the sermon, meaning the teaching value of it was wasted. If this is how we would feel, then why should our kids put up with it? And they are all our kids, as here at the church, in this the family of Jesus, all of the children are in the care of all of the adults. Are we saying that we value children and their faith, beliefs, opinions and spiritual journey? I’m not sure that we are. Lately at the 9.30 service there have actually been more kids here in the church than at Sunday school. Sometimes there are quite a few. Yet our worship is still very much adults only. Nowhere is this more visible than at the communion rail.
We have a tradition in the Anglican Church that children do not take communion until they have been confirmed or prepared for communion. I have to say here that I don’t think this tradition is particularly helpful.
When Jacob, our son was younger we belonged to a parish that was trying to be inclusive and was working towards being more and more inclusive. They were attempting to include all of the family. One Sunday there was a thanksgiving service which was held at the local community hall, with all four of the congregations coming together. There were several priests helping out. One was a retired priest with very traditional views. Jacob was used to receiving the communion at the altar rails with Deb and I. We went up for communion, Deb, Jacob and me, receiving it standing up. When Jacob came forward, the priest gave this little boy, standing there with his hands outstretched to receive the body of Christ, a blessing, then looked straight over his head, ignoring him. He wouldn’t even make eye contact. It was a sad indictment I thought on an institution in which the traditions mean more than the inclusiveness and the gospel. I personally believe that all of the baptised have the right to partake of the sacrament. We have this idea that people should have a full understanding of the sacrament before they partake of it, meaning children must be of an age to be taught about the meaning, yet we allow adults who do not understand it to partake. I would also argue that most children thoroughly understand the concept of partaking of the sacrament together, and they know full well that it is something they are excluded from. I have only to think back to the look on Jacobs face when he was refuse to know that he knew he was missing out on something that everyone else was part of. Is this the way to nurture faith? Is this how we grow future leaders in our church community?
What I suggest we do is to think seriously about what we do in worship. Our worship is beautiful, but we need to ask ourselves “is it accessible to everyone?” Do we want G rated worship, or PG rated, or AO rated, which is what I think we have at the moment. Include the children in this reflection. Ask the children why they don’t come to Sunday school, and why they don’t come to church. Ask them what they would like to do in worship, and what sort of music they like. And then take those answers seriously. We must stop keeping children away from Jesus, because as He said, it is to such as these that the Kingdom belongs.
The disciples speaking other languages is not so much about the gift of tongues, I think, as about the unity that we should all be striving for in the church of God – people of many different languages come together into one family. If we live in His Love, we must be unified in His Love. We must seek to include everyone. That means children as well. We must learn to speak and to hear and to interpret the language that children speak, and also hear the language that we speak to children. In so doing, I hope we will learn to be more inclusive, and be much more the family that we are called to be in the Church of God, under our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Amen.
Easter 2 2004
Acts 5.27-32, Ps 118.14-29, Rev 1.4-8, John 20.19-31.
Why would anyone believe in anything these days?
Everything is open to challenge. It’s a feature of post modern society, that everything is questionable, that there are no longer any absolute truths, and as a consequence of this, no one will commit to anything.
Facts are not facts anymore. Nothing is written in black and white, only in shades of grey. Everything is open to interpretation. Even what we think are historical facts can be questionable. I’ve just begun reading a book called 1421, about Chinese exploration of the world, and the possibility that long before Europeans came to Australia the Chinese did. That Chinese may have been here before Captain Cook discovered this allegedly empty continent requires a big shift in the thinking of any of us who have grown up with the notion that it was the English who discovered Australia.
Even the empirical truths that science produces are open to question. I’m sure some of you will have heard of the uncertainty principle. It’s the theory that the mere act of observing something, of measuring it, will produce the result that is measured. In other words, the actual act of measuring and recording changes the properties of the subject, so that the true nature of the subject might not be knowable. It like that old saying, I’m not even sure where it comes from, that goes “If a tree falls in the forest, and there is no one to hear it, does it make a noise?” We can’t tell. It is a question to which there is no measurable, provable answer. So, if there is no provable answer to anything, then why would we believe anything?
It’s a good thing we don’t need evidence for faith. Well, strictly speaking, that’s not quite true. But more about that later. What I mean is the evidence we don’t seem to need is empirical evidence, measured physically with special instruments, observations, etc. which is a good thing because we would have had a hard time finding it, although this hasn’t stopped some people trying. There’s the guy who goes looking for chariot wheels at the bottom of the Red sea, and for Noah’s ark, and things like that. Personally I think he is barking up the wrong tree, and it probably says lot about his own feelings of inadequacy in the faith department and ridicule from his non-religious colleagues in the scientific world. I don’t think he has fully grasped the idea that faith is not something people come to through logical deduction and intellectual thought, even though these processes and faculties may play a part in its development.
Yes, that’s right, I don’t think faith is an intellectual decision. I think it’s a lot deeper than that. But let’s go to the Gospel reading for some unpacking of this, particularly as it relates to Thomas.
I can imagine Thomas in a bar. His mates are telling him some story, and he’s saying, yeah, right, pull the other one, it’s got bells on it. It’s a bit of a tall story, and if someone told me something like that out of the blue I imagine I would express my skepticism in a similar way. Who of us wouldn’t? Now I don’t think there is anything wrong with a bit of skepticism. It is natural, it hopefully prevents us from being taken for a ride so much, from being conned. I can even identify with Thomas. I think most of us could. We want proof when we hear something that’s a bit off the planet. Why shouldn’t Thomas?
The interesting thing is Jesus’ response. Jesus doesn’t refuse to give Thomas proof. He doesn’t point blank refuse to give Thomas the opportunity to see and do exactly what he said he wanted to do in order to believe. You see, that’s the thing. We all have moments of doubt, and anyone who says they don’t is I think kidding themselves. We have the dark times of the soul, times of trouble, times where we think about the darker side of life, and of death, and we wonder what it is that’s out there, what it is we believe in. I think that what we can learn from this is that we can actually ask Jesus for some help through these hard times, so that we too may believe again. And whilst those who have no need of proof are certainly blessed, for those who do need some assistance with faith at times it will be forthcoming, for as we see, Jesus offers Thomas the opportunity to touch His wounds. Jesus is prepared to give Thomas what he needs. Dare we ask, next time we are lost and can’t see Jesus, to touch His wounds, to feel him or see him?
But in the end Thomas doesn’t quite need that much proof. He doesn’t need the tactile proof he though he did. What happened? He saw Jesus. That was enough. Perhaps it was the feeling of being with him. I’m sure that most of you know someone that you feel very safe with, or with whom you feel happy. Perhaps that is what Thomas sensed. A familiar feeling, a sense of the holiness of Jesus, the love that flows from Him. Something that was not as empirical or incontrovertible as touching His actual wounds, it seems, but which none the less was just as convincing and elicited a faith response.
Might this be what Jesus would offer us? If we ask for help with doubt, what might happen? Might we too experience the risen Christ? Well, we can only give it a go, and see what happens. But be open to the experience. Ask and you might just receive. And remember, having doubt is ok. Struggle makes us stronger.
In the name of Christ, in whom be glory for ever, Amen.
