 |
|
13th
March 2016 - Revd. Preb Maureen Hobbs |
Sermon for Lent 5 - Passion Sunday
Isaiah
43. 16-21
John 12. 1-8
Learning to Feel again is the subtext of this week’s Lent
course and of this sermon. And that feels very appropriate as
we come to Passion Sunday – which we might also call Feeling
Sunday. Jesus is drawing ever closer to Jerusalem and the final
events of Holy Week.
Next Sunday – Palm Sunday – will see us remembering
his last triumphant entry into the city and we’ll read again
– all of us –the dramatic account of those final few
days. To get the most from that experience you have to have both
com-passion and sym-pathy for the story as it unfolds and the
characters that populate it. Both words that owe their derivation
to the Latin Passio – to suffer/ to feel. So yes, we do
need to learn to feel again – and even though to some of
us the story is so very well known... there will be others –
maybe even someone in this building, for whom that well known
story will suddenly take on a new force, a new meaning. Sam Wells
– the author of our Lent book encourages us to begin by
looking at a passage from the Old Testament – the story
of Ezekiel and the valley of dry bones. And in his introduction,
Sam tells us that this essay is in fact an exploration –
in a non-clinical way – of the emotion or condition of depression.
Depression is something that surely we can all identify with
in one way or another. For some of course – maybe some of
you here this morning, it is a very real illness.
Clinical Depression is thankfully getting better understood and
is an illness that robsa person of their life in many ways. For
some it prevents any sort of functioning as a responsible adult
in our world and should be viewed just as seriously – and
sympathetically (that word again) – as any serious illness
or injury. Treatment may not be easy, but there are remedies
that may help – with time and patience and the support of
friends and family.
But the sort of depression that Ezekiel puts us in mind of, is
the less debilitating, but also quite handicapping one of exhaustionand
dryness that may affect not just a person, but an institution;
a community; even a nation. It is that mood when we feel so dispirited
that we stop believing that God can and will refresh and revive
us. That ourdry bones may be made to live again. That we might
yet prove productive, fruitful and creative.
At yesterday’s Diocesan Synod we were treated to a bible
study on being the Body of Christ as the church. Note the Body
andnot just the skeleton! It was apparently G K Chesterton who
commented that Christianity might at times appear to be dying
in our world and our society. But that we should never despair
– because, after all, we have a God who knows what it is
to break out of the grave. And although we may at times grow
dis-spirited and despondent – depressed and despairing,
our supreme Creator God – who always renews us and his invitation
to us to be co-creators with him of the Kingdom, God is never
dispirited. For God is the eternal Creator, the eternal Saviour,
the eternal Spirit – enlivening and inspiring us (lit. Breathing
new life into us) God is the one who will make the tired old
bones live. Whether that is for us as individuals; for us as
the institution of the Church; for us as a village learning to
care for each other – to feel for each other’s joys
and woes; for us as a nation –whether within or outside
of the EU.The One who calls is faithful, (as Paul reminded us)
and when our resources and resilience feel exhausted – God
will breathe new life into our lives and put new flesh on our
bones, a new heart within us. Sam finishes his essay on Ezekiel
asking if we are willing? Are we willing to learn new music (if
that is what it takes)? Are we willing to let the Spirit make
music from our dry and tuneless, fragile flesh? And – perhaps
most challenging of all – are we willing to face the inevitable
scorn and shame that is almost
|
|
