Third Sunday in Lent

March 8                      NOTES FOR REFLECTION             Third Sunday in Lent

Texts:  Exodus 20:1-17; 1 Corinthians 1:18-25; John 2:13-22

Theme:  There's something about the old and the new in our readings today.  Something like "Learning from the Past, Preparing for the Future" is buzzing around in my mind.  Or should it be something much shorter and simpler around that precious little word "holy"?  Perhaps "Remembering (or Recognising or Keeping) the Holy" would do it.  But then St Paul has something really important to say this week:  "Fools for Christ" comes to mind, or, much more provocative, what about "It's the Cross, Stupid!"?  Perhaps not – too Clintonesque for Lent, I think.

Introduction.  It's a while since I have heard the Ten Commandments in a Sunday service, even though the rubrics bravely suggest they might be used as an alternative to The Summary of the Law, on page 406 of the Prayer Book.  (Lent might be a good time to ponder why they seem to have gone out of fashion, even in the Church.)  Brave souls might want to preach on them this Sunday.  Even braver souls might want to preach on the second lesson, depending on the perceived intellectual make-up of the congregation, or their liking or otherwise for signs and wonders.  Those who are content to play a par round might follow our more usual custom and stick primarily to the gospel passage, being careful to assure the more delicate souls that no sheep or cattle were hurt during their sudden expulsion from the Temple Courts.  Put all these things together and we really do have another week for getting back to basics – as uncomfortable as that often is.

Background.  Bishop Kelvin recently asked a very interesting question in the context of his proposed pilgrimage (the Camino Santiago) later in the year as part of his Sabbatical.  His question is, what is a "holy place"; or, to put it another way, what makes a place "holy"?  I have been pondering this same question recently, for different but perhaps related reasons.  I haven't got very far yet, but I have started to scribble down a few words, phrases, and random thoughts that may or may not coalesce into something coherent in due time.

The monks' dictum – stay in your cell and it will teach you everything you need to know about being a monk.  Is it important where we ask the bishop's question?  Ask it in our study, and we might come up with a lot of clever thoughts about holy places – but suppose we simply went to a holy place and stayed there until the place answered the question.  Would that work?  The old saying about being unable to define art, but knowing it when we see it.  Perhaps we know a holy place only when we are in it, and even while we are in it we cannot explain why it is holy.  Does that get us somewhere?

Two obvious Scriptures:  Jacob at Bethel – Genesis 28:10-22; and Moses at the burning bush – Exodus 3:1-12.  Each was a holy place because God was present there – or, better, the presence of God there was fully experienced.  But was the place "holy" before the encounter, and did it remain holy ever thereafter?  Does holiness expire after a period?

Celtic notion of "thin places" may help.  These presumably are holy places.

 "A holy place is one where there is a surplus of love."  This random thought came to me fully formed.  As I pondered it, it seemed to be connected (no pun intended) with the idea of solar power – surplus offered back to the grid.  A holy place radiates love into the surrounding area.  I remember reading a comment made by the local commander of the police in Brighton, U.K.  Some years ago the Monastery of the Community of the Servants of the Will of God at Crawley set up a small community in a run-down area of Hove, with six monks who kept the Hours as if they were still in the monastery.  After two or three years of this the senior police officer told the Abbott that there had been "a perceptible change in the local atmosphere" – his officers had noticed far less aggro on the streets and the incidence of petty offending had dropped markedly.  That's what having a "holy place" in an area can do – even though we can't explain exactly how.

With this week's gospel passage before us it may be a good time to think about our local churches – are they holy places or do they need the sort of radical cleansing the Temple needed in Jesus' time?  I can honestly say that from the time I first walked into St Barnabas', Warrington I knew it was a holy place, and I'm never surprised when visitors tell me that they "sense" something about the place – how special it seems to them.  What makes it so?  Well, it's very beautiful, featuring a lot of polished timber, and, of course, its west wall is almost entirely taken up with the most stunning stained-glass windows.  But beauty is not enough to make a place holy.  One element that is of greater importance, surely, is its history.  Built in 1872 and consecrated the following year, worship has been offered to God there for 142 years and counting.  Holiness can be cumulative.

Recently, while pretending to help Trish with the cleaning, I found hidden away on a bottom shelf in the vestry an old, rather damp and damaged Bible.  When I opened it I found inscribed the words "Received and first used on 18^th June 1876", and I'm pretty sure that was written by Rev Thomas Litchfield Stanley, whom we recognise as our first Vicar (he and his wife lie at rest in our graveyard).  It was a very moving experience to hold that HOLY Bible in my hands, knowing that our first Vicar, and, on occasion, no doubt, our first Bishop, Samuel Nevill, had held it in their hands all those years ago, and had preached the Word from it in this very place, this very holy place.

Bishop Nevill, his first wife and some of his wider family also lie at rest in the graveyard at St Barnabas, along with many, many others.  The presence of the faithful dead, too, contributes to the holiness of this place.  Often some of those who loved them and miss them to this day come on pilgrimages of their own, from far and near, and some pop in to the church for prayer or quiet reflection.

All this is part of why I have been saddened recently by what seems to be an upsurge in the number of our churches being closed, deconsecrated and offered for sale.  Lawrence (Tuapeka) was a place of worship (a holy place) even before Warrington; the church was closed in January.  This week the ODT reported that the churches of St Mary at Omakau  and St Michael and All Angels at Clyde are facing a similar fate. The Vicar is reported to have said that we must be "hugely pragmatic about it no matter how beautiful, ancient or loved the building", and that "The Church is not in the business of being a preservation society": all of which sounds reasonable enough until we remember that we are talking about "holy places".  Does pragmatism (however huge) justify turning holy places into "marketplaces"?  And if the Church is not in the business of preserving holy places, who is?  And here's another question: how can we continue to have pilgrimages to holy places when there are no holy places left?  With great respect, perhaps that's an even better question for Bishop Kelvin (and all of us) to ponder before it is too late.

Exodus 20:1-17:  There can be little doubt that Mount Sinai qualifies as a "holy place": according to Moses, God ordered them to "set limits around the mountain and keep it holy" [19:23].  It was on that holy place that God spoke the words we know as the Ten Commandments, the first four of which concern – are rooted in - the holiness of God.  Two of them strike me as particularly important today.  The Third, relating to the "wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God" is much wider that swearing or mindless exclamations.  It surely covers doing or saying something and claiming to be acting in God's name.  There is as much "false Christianity" as there is "false Islam" in the world, and there always has been, at least from the time of the Crusades.  Today blowing up abortion clinics to save innocent lives should never be associated with God's name.  The Fourth Commandment is even more apposite, requiring as it does that we keep the Sabbath day holy.  What better way to do that than spending at least part of it in a holy place?

Taking It Personally.

·        Once more we are reminded that the season of Lent is the ideal time for a personal spiritual stock-take.  Go slowly through the passage, taking careful note of your immediate reactions to each Commandment.  Is there one in particular that really bugs you?  Stay with that one and talk to God about it.

·        Reflect on verse 7.  Do you tend to use the word "God" otherwise than as a mode of address in prayer?  ["Oh, for God's sake!" or "OMG!"]

·        Read verses 8-11 through carefully.  We are reminded that God consecrated the Sabbath precisely because it was the day on which God rested.  Leisure (rest from labour) is holy!  Are you careful to ensure that you have one day a week when you do not work?  Do you try to ensure that you do not require others to work for you on that day?

 

1 Corinthians 1:18-31.  Can huge pragmatism stand in the light of this passage?  Is this passage not a perfect critique of those who believe that the Church is (or should be) in any business?  This week we have heard much about MPs' salaries, and whether or not many of them could earn anything like an equivalent salary outside of Parliament.  Perhaps we should ask the same question of our stipended clergy, except that we all know the answer to that one!  Of course, most if not all of them could earn substantially more in "the real world": in my own case, in 1990 I went from an annual salary of $83,000 to a part-stipend of $20,000.  Where was the human wisdom in that?  For the 'Greeks' around me at the time (including some within the faith community) the search for wisdom proved fruitless.  St Paul faced the same sort of questions, which is why he was able to write this passage before us this week.  Much of what God says and does, and calls us to be part of, is crazy in worldly terms, up to and including the Cross, of course.  Where is the sense in that?  Where is the sense in loving one's enemies, turning the other cheek, or forgiving those who wrong us?  Isn't it better to "get some guts and get on the right side"?  Isn't wisdom from Wellington or Washington more sensible than wisdom from God?

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Calm down, breathe deeply, and start forming your own answers, not to my deliberately provocative 'rewrite' of this passage, but to St Paul's equally provocative original version.

·        Notice especially verse 22.  St Paul equates the desire for "signs" (miracles) with the belief that God must act "rationally" in accordance with human logic.  Both are wrongheaded.  Which is the greater temptation for you?

 

John 2:13-22.  There's not much new I can say about the Cleansing of the Temple, at least in this gospel.  I'm not one of those who feel a need to rush to Jesus' defence.  He was angry – he had every right to be.  The difference is that he did something about it.  Perhaps that's the real challenge for us when we see something wrong in the Church.  Anger is not enough, and silent seething is medically harmful for the seether.  I'm delighted to find that the NRSV that I am using has Jesus accusing the authorities of making his Father's house into a "marketplace".  (Is that the same as a "den of thieves"?)  Perhaps the new term is wider to include boutique craft shops or cafes, if not pop-up lingerie shows.  Who knows what we could turn our holy places into if we really turned our minds to it, or, to be hugely pragmatic for a moment, simply put them up for tender?  That apparently is the best way to determine their true value.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• What lessons are there in this passage for the Church in general, and for your local faith community in principle?
• Must the Church be pragmatic/businesslike, etc, or is part of its calling to proclaim and model other values?