Consistency, continuity, and God as our Creator & Sustainer
By
William Lyon Tupman. Sermon for the Eucharist at Christ Church Chelsea, on February 24th
2019 (2nd Sunday before Lent)
Bible
readings: Genesis 2:4b-9, 15-end; Psalm 65; Revelation 4; Luke
8:22-25.
May
the words of my mouth, and the meditations of all our hearts, be
acceptable in your
sight, O Lord our strength and redeemer. Amen.
Please be seated.
Good
morning everyone! It's wonderful to see you all here at Christ Church
Chelsea again. I'm very grateful to Mother Emma, Father Brian and
Father John for inviting me back to preach today. For anyone who I
haven't yet met, I worshipped and sung in the Choir here while I was
studying for a Master's degree in Biblical Studies and Theology at
King's College
London, last academic year.
Today,
I'd like to focus on the themes of consistency and continuity. As
many of you will know, I'm on the journey to hopefully becoming a
priest in the Church of England. This is a very exciting journey for
me, and it's a time of both discernment and formation. When talking
about exploring a vocation to ordained ministry in the Church of
England, it is easy to follow the traditional understanding of what
discernment and formation is - that you are in the Discernment
Process from when you start meeting with your incumbent or chaplain
to talk about the possibility of being ordained, until you attend
your Bishop's Advisory Panel or BAP (the selection conference I'll be
attending in less than three months from now, after which I will
learn if I'll be training for the priesthood) - after which, you then
start the Formation Process, which sees you through your training at
theological college and beyond.
While
this is presented both logically and helpfully by the Church, I think
to confine these terms like that may risk being too narrow an
interpretation and understanding of them. We are always discerning
what God is asking of us; we are always being formed in the ways He
wants us to be, in accordance with His will. We are always learning;
and we are always making progress, however much or not we may
consciously feel that at times. What underpins this, to me, is
continuity - something which has been a significant characteristic of
my journey in faith, discernment and formation so far.
Continuity
- what is it? It can be something that is unbroken, and it can be
something which is consistent; but it still allows for change and
progress. Here's an analogy for any car enthusiasts like me here
today. Take the Jaguar XJ, as it was produced from 1968 to 2009.
While the car was occasionally updated and modernised over time, the
core design was left relatively unaltered; if you saw the 1968 and
2009 models stood next to each other, you would doubtless observe
their strikingly similar appearances – hence, there is much
continuity between them. Most significantly, the same character is
still present in both, and in all the models in between. But at the
same time, progress had been made over the years - the newer models
were more energy efficient; they were faster; they were modernised;
and they were better for the environment. But they were still,
unmistakably, the Jaguar XJ. (For anyone who's wondering, the car is
still produced today, but it was completely redesigned in 2010!)!
This
concept of continuity is something which underpins and characterises
much of my journey in the Church so far. I've had a lot of change in
my life so far. I was home educated; I'd lost both my parents by the
time I was thirteen; I then started school; I lived in two different
foster homes; I went to university, and I loved it there so much that
I went on and did a Master's; and more. Some of these changes have
been, as you can imagine, quite challenging to me, such as my
bereavements; whereas other changes have been both positive and
exciting, such as pursuing my studies, and meeting more friends. Much
change, therefore; but an equal level of continuity, too; if not
more. The Church has always been there for me; the Church has always
been here for me. In all of my sorrows, and in all of my joys - the
Church has, is, and always will be, here for me. And the same is true
for each and every one of us.
Here's
some more continuity. I've not moved too far away from Christ Church;
as the priests here all know, I now serve as a Lay Pastoral Assistant
just a few miles away at St Michael's Church, Croydon - and the
parish priest there is good friends with Fr Brian. Moreover, one of
the reasons I came to King's to do my Master's was because our
director of music, Gareth Wilson, recommended both King's and Christ
Church to me, having also been my choir director at Girton College
Cambridge where I did my BA. Now how's that for continuity! It is a
placement which I love very much, and it is giving me a whole range
of different experiences. I work six days a week, mostly serving and
being with the community in my Church, but as part of this placement
I also volunteer once a week at the chaplaincies of the refugee day
centre at West Croydon Baptist Church, I run the chess club at
Croydon College, I visit the patients and staff in Croydon University
Hospital, and I also currently volunteer once a week at the Croydon
Churches Floating Shelter for homeless people, which is currently at
Croydon Minster; I'm on the overnight shift there tonight. All in
all, and especially at my young age of twenty-four, my placement at
St Michael's Croydon is equipping me with many valuable experiences,
and a great variety of different aspects of service - both
Sacramentally and pastorally - and both inside and outside of the
immediate Church setting. I am truly grateful for this.
And
we can see this theme of continuity in today's readings from
Scripture, since it is God who is both our Creator and Sustainer. God
is continually bringing about His creation, and sustaining us. Psalm
65 is a helpful reminder of God's continual involvement and
faithfulness in creation, even when we transgress. He is making and
shaping the world as we know it, and brings order about from chaos.
This is brilliantly illustrated by Luke in today's Gospel reading,
when Jesus – who, being fully divine as well as fully human - calms
the storm, and displays authority over the waters, bringing them from
chaos into a state of peace and order. In the Hebrew Bible, watery
storms are symbolic of chaos - and God conquers them and brings about
order, as we can see for example in Genesis 1, and also in Psalms 29,
106 and 107. Jesus doing exactly the same thing in today's Gospel
reading is therefore a reassuring reminder that God still brings
order where there is chaos.
In
our first reading from Genesis 2 today, we read the Yahwist creation
account; the second of two accounts of creation at the start of
Genesis (the other one, spanning Genesis 1, being known as the
Priestly account). In Genesis 1:26-28, humanity is created and is
given "radah" in Hebrew - that is, dominion or stewardship
over all the created world and its inhabitants. But there is a very
different balance of power in these two words, dominion and
stewardship - can both be correct? Are there two different
interpretations on offer here? And if so, can both be connected?
Let's
consider the beautiful and majestic description of God in Revelation
4. Can you imagine having the same level of dominion as that? I
can't. Both this reading and our first reading suggest that God
appoints us to be stewards of the earth; He still has ultimate
authority, as the creatures who sing God's praises in Revelation 4
recognise and acknowledge in their worship of Him. Creation is a gift
by and from God to us, and we are given ultimate responsibility for
looking after it. That's a kind of calling in itself; we all have a
responsibility - a vocation - to look after our created world. Do we
still have a special, superior ranking in the order of creation? Yes,
we do; but this means we have a particular degree of responsibility,
in accordance with how God has equipped us more than other created
beings.
The
remainder of today's first reading tells us about the creation of
Eve; in Genesis 2:18, God states that it is not good for humans to be
alone, and thus creates for Adam his wife. Does this suggest that
everyone should get married? Are we all called to marry? Some of us
are (I feel called to marry when the time comes); while others are
not. It is another example of vocation. Let's remember two of the
most prominent Church leaders from the New Testament; as far as we
know, Peter was called to marry (for Jesus heals Peter's
mother-in-law in Matthew 8:14-15), while Paul tells us that he
remained unmarried (1 Corinthians 7:8), presumably for his whole
life.
Sometimes
being alone is good - especially if you want to go on a relaxing run,
or if you need to finish an essay perilously close to a submission
deadline (these being a couple of scenarios I often find myself in!).
But I don't think it's good to be permanently alone. And we are not.
Marriage is a beautiful and wonderful thing, but of course it isn't
the only way of being in company; many of us here will have a network
of friends, be it from Church, from work, university, school,
college, neighbourhood or otherwise; and those living the religious
life in monasteries or convents are unmarried but living together in
a community.
Whatever
our vocations are in these areas, God is always with us. He is
consistently with us; again, that theme of consistency comes up
again, no matter how changeable our lives can sometimes be. God is
unchanging, infinite, and eternal. He is omnipresent (that is,
present at all times and in all places) and especially when we meet
with Him and receive Him in the Sacrament of the Mass. Thus, we are
never alone. How comforting!
Psalm
65 also reminds us of God's forgiveness. Even when our transgressions
"overwhelm" us (verse 3), we all still have the assurance
of God's forgiveness. If we carried on reading just a bit further
beyond our first reading today, we'd see how valuable that is when
Adam and Eve sinned by eating of the tree of knowledge of good and
evil!
This
is guaranteed forgiveness, thanks to the salvific work of Christ in
His passion, death and resurrection - the Paschal Mystery. It is
everlasting, since Christ's one, eternal sacrifice for us is perfect
and complete. This forgiveness is, thus, consistent. If we weren't to
accept this, we wouldn't be fully appreciative of the scale of what
exactly Christ achieved for us on the cross, and in the whole Paschal
Mystery - something we will soon contemplate in further detail, as
Lent quickly approaches.
And
that's certainly something I'm grateful for! In my journey, sometimes
in the past I've felt unworthy to even consider the concept of being
called to the priesthood. But I've come to realise that God still
counts us all worthy to live the lives we are being called to – and
for me, I feel, hope and pray that that is the Anglican priesthood,
if it is in accordance with God's will. He will never ask us to do
something we cannot do; and even if He does, He will equip us. And
not just adequately at that, but fully and beyond fully. He counts us
worthy - because, since He has made us worthy, we are worthy.
We
are all on a journey, as we pursue our various callings - our
primary, common vocation in Baptism, and any other vocations God is
calling us to. A nurse, a doctor, a teacher, a priest – these are
just some of the many vocations people can be called to. And, no
matter how changeable things may at times be, there is consistency
and continuity in our lives - in small ways, in bigger ways, and in
perhaps the greatest way possible - that God is always here with us.
Let us give thanks for His presence with us now, and in all our
lives, especially as we now come to receive Him in the Eucharist. In
the name of God, who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.