I
begin with a poem, written by R S Thomas
Prayers
like gravel
flung at the sky’s
window,
hoping to attract
the loved one’s
attention.
But without
visible plaits to let
down
for the believer
to climb up,
to
what purpose open
that far casement?
I would
have
refrained long since
but that peering once
through
my locked fingers
I
thought that I detected
the movement of a curtain.
R
S Thomas, who died in 2000, was a priest and a poet, described as lacking
charity and patience, and known for his Crabbiness, his poetry however captures
some of the realities around about life and faith, about pondering some of the
deeper things of life, as we do in a service such as this one.
I
wonder whether you have had a Romeo or Juliet moment? Balancing gravel in your hand, throwing it up
at a window, wondering if it will be heard? Maybe it actually happened for you,
the window really and literally opened and someone responded to your voice. Or,
maybe sometime in your life, you have called out, perhaps in prayer, just wondering
if anyone is there at all.
The
poem is an illustration of faith in most of our lives today, some of us
detecting the slight
movement
of a curtain, be it a hunch, a
mysterious coincidence or a curious inquisitiveness to push at the door, or
throw that stone up at the window, just to see what might happen.
Today,
that curtain has moved that bit more noticeably for all of us as we observe
faith in action. As these candidates (names) respond
to God’s call on their lives by being ordained.
25 being ordained in services here today, and of many hundreds being
ordained across the country over the last few weeks.
Calling
is both a very personal and a very public thing. Recognised within and without, it brings our
past together with our present and catapults us into a future. It is mystifying and definite, perplexing
yet simple;
Our
readings today, take that theme, beginning in the Old Testament book of
Samuel. Where
we
hear that God had been almost silent, maybe going back to R S Thomas’ poem, the
curtain had not moved for a long time and the prayers had stopped. Samuel was the much longed and prayed for
son of Hannah, who according to custom, at around the age of three had been
presented to be cared for by the priest Eli, being given to God for a lifetime
of service. As a child he ministered at
the Temple. Today we have heard how Eli,
the experienced Priest was growin old, his eyesight had begun to dim so that he
could not see, Samuel, his young apprentice was with him in the temple, it was
the end of the day, the tabernacle lamps were burning according to custom and the
lamp of God had not yet gone out.
I
don’t know whether you have seen those survival programmes, but one of the
first lessons to learn is how to create a spark, a spark means hope and life,
blown in the right way it can be
kindled
into a flame, and so it is with
God. God may have been silent but the lamp
had not yet gone out.
The
call for Samuel began. ‘Samuel’,
‘Samuel’ God whispered, so real, so audible that he thought it was Eli calling
him. ‘Here, I am’ he said running to his master. But checking it out, he realised he was wrong.
‘The third time Eli, encouraged Samuel to respond to God. Not his earthly master but his heavenly one. ‘Samuel, Samuel’ God was calling and this time
Samuel answered ‘Speak Lord, your servant is listening.’ From then on Samuel
was himself engaged, fully signed up, in
the work of God. Bringing transformation
wherever he went and becoming a significant person in the story of God’s
people.
The
movement of the curtain, the lamp still burning, the gentle whisper of our
name. Signs of God’s presence in a world pre-occupied by so much other
demanding our attention. And from Samuel
onwards, God continues calling, throughout his Word in times of peace, and in
times of unrest, men and women, young and old, to leave, to go, to do, to be. And throughout the New Testament Jesus does
the same – follow me, come to me, be transformed
then go and be my disciples.
About
once a year, I take a week out of my day to day role to spent time as a
Bishop’s Adviser, all those being ordained today will know what that
means! We are the ones who recommend, or
not, as the case may be, individuals to proceed to training for
ordination. I consider it a real
privilege to sit down with each individual and hear their stories. My faith is
increased significantly, as each story echo’s something of the call of Jesus to
those early disciples.
Stories
of those who grow up determined to enjoy the good life, then God arrives and
turns lives upside down. Stories of those who have full lives, yet when each
day is over, lay awake
feeling
achingly alone. Where is the joy? Where
is the peace ? where is the love?
Stories
of people, for whom on hearing Christ’s call find his words get under their
skin, sharpening a discontent, a hunger of something better awakened by Jesus,
which refuses to go
away.
Stories
of familiar voices inside saying ‘Don’t do it. Don’t give up everything you’ve
worked for. Yet another voice whispering
‘This is everything you have craved for. Move, follow, be a disciple.’
Stories
of no regret, of receiving in return something more precious and enriching than
anything the world could offer. Spiritual riches, the wealth of divine love, so
great that it needs sharing.
Stories
of how eating at the table of the Master, with nothing spread there but the
most ordinary gifts of bread and wine, is sharing in a feast which makes royal
banquets seem like nothing.
Stories
of transformation and family and friends here today I am sure you will
recognise some of those stories, as you have stood alongside names of candidates, those you love,
and seen God’s call to service become more and more compelling. Many here will have stories of your own. Changed hearts and lives. As a church we may have many plans and programmes,
however the greatest impact will be made in the sharing of what God has done in
our lives.
Throughout
history that still small voice of God, or that sudden command, or that jolt out
of
the
blue continues to draw people into a life of purpose and adventure with
God. Some do not leave much behind,
others have to make huge sacrifices; but whatever the cost that call is
so
powerful it takes an individual hunger for meaning and places it within a
community of service to bring about transformation.
When Jesus sent his followers out he made sure
they knew what was to be done. It was not a hide-n-seek game. It was not to see
if they had grasped the unwritten rules. Jesus made his intentions clear.
A business had relocated and was having a grand
re-launch party; And one of the friends of the owner of the new business; Wanted to send him flowers for the occasion
so he phoned a
flower shop and left suitable
instructions. When the owner of the new
business received the flowers; he was surprised by the accompanying card which read: “Rest in
Peace.”
The owner was angry and called the florist to complain. After he had told the florist of the obvious mistake and how angry he was, The florist replied, “Sir, I’m really sorry for the mistake, But rather than getting angry, you should imagine this: Somewhere, there is a funeral taking place today, and they have flowers with a note saying,… ‘Congratulations on your new location”.
The owner was angry and called the florist to complain. After he had told the florist of the obvious mistake and how angry he was, The florist replied, “Sir, I’m really sorry for the mistake, But rather than getting angry, you should imagine this: Somewhere, there is a funeral taking place today, and they have flowers with a note saying,… ‘Congratulations on your new location”.
Christ’s
instructions were clear. Towards the end of his time on earth, whilst the lamp
of God
had
not gone out, Jesus demonstrated powerfully what that calling looked like, as
Samuel faithfully served, so God himself in Jesus Christ served his
friends. This is the upside down
kingdom,
where the unexpected, that which flies in the face of social norms and customs,
becomes the norm. This was more than R S Thomas’ movement of a curtain, this
was the opening of the window and the letting down the plaits. Christ amongst his people washing their
sweaty, dusty, soiled feet, the tenderness of God in those simple actions,
caring and loving selflessly, personally and unashamedly – the servant
King. Meeting their needs, kneeling
before them, cleaning them up, It was so unexpected, that Peter, like Samuel,
couldn’t quite comprehend. It was almost
too much for him to bear. ‘For I have set you an example, says Jesus, that you
also should do, as I have done for you.’
That
simple call to service, which we have before our eyes today, a call to all of
us, yet contained significantly in the office and work of a deacon. A human response by these ordinands to that
God of love, who still speaks in our hearts, nudges our lives. Who takes who we are and have and does
amazing things, using our service to bring transformation to
the
world. A life of risk, underwritten by
secure and abundant love.
I
have spent the last four days with these great people about to be ordained
deacon. Already
their
lives are about following and serving, and from today they will do that as
clergy – ministering, guiding, praying, modelling. None of these individuals know the complete
picture of what is before them, and on their retreat they have been given some
insights to help
them
on their journey, all they know that it is a journey of service walking
alongside those whom God places by their side and inviting them too into God’s
kingdom. A challenging call, for which they will need all your support and
encouragement.
As
we read our newspapers today, and think about our world, we return to that
imagine in the
Poem
with which I began, many of us are probably pelting the gravel at the window in
prayer
and
faith, longing for God to open it once more and for the plaits to be lowered
down to us. Today we can see God at work, that movement of the curtain in the
call of God upon the lives of ordinary people.
We can hear stories from long ago echoing in stories that are real,
today,
testifying
to the fact that God’s work of transformation goes on, that reassurance that the
lamp of God has not gone out.
For
you being ordained today, never forget your story and what has led you to this
moment, step out in faith in the full knowledge of God’s call on your life,
aware of all those who have gone before you, take your place alongside others,
and begin the work that God has called you to.
Yesterday I gave each of you a bag with 5 stones inside to act as
markers on your way, today you can also connect them to R S Thomas’ prayers
like gravel flung at the sky’s window, reminding you to pray and demonstrate
faith for others as you serve.
However,
this ordination service is something in which we are all involved and the
challenge of faith is that God is calling all of us, by name, from where we are
now to something far far deeper and vastly more meaningful, think about what
that might be, who should hear your story?
Who should be part of it? And
those here today, who maybe questioning, maybe bemused, maybe sceptical, maybe even
a bit inquisitive about all that is going on, I invite you to give God a
chance. To take a small step of
faith.
Later
in this service we will all be invited to receive Bread and Wine. That feast, I mentioned
earlier
that for believers makes royal banquets taste like nothing. There is a wonderful invitation to Communion
from the prayers of the Iona Community, a Christian community in
Scotland,
something for ordinands and guests alike with which I end:
‘This is the table not of the Church but of the Lord. It is to be made ready for those who love
him, and who
want to love him more.
So, come, you who have much faith and you who have little, you who have been here often
and you who have not been for a very long time, you who have
tried to follow and you who
have failed. Come, not
because it is I who invite you: it is our Lord. It is his will that those
who want him should
meet him here.’
The lamp of God has not gone out. Today let us all step out
in faith and service, be part of
the greatest story ever told and in doing so bring
transformation to our world.
