Sermon for the 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Trinity 2) 26th June 2022

Cross in the Lady Chapel

Last Tuesday, along with the churchwardens of the benefice, I went to the archdeacon’s visitation service. For those who don’t know what that is, it’s an annual service at which churchwardens, deputy wardens and sides-people are sworn in by taking an oath to fulfil the duties of their various offices. Being the senior member of the clergy in attendance, it falls to the archdeacon to preach at these services. To be honest, not many people look forward to these sermons  because they’re often used to talk at great length about money and what a terrible state the Church of England and the diocese in question is in from a financial point of view. But the archdeacon’s sermon last Tuesday was not like that at all. Instead he spoke about the need to get people into church, about the need to invite people to come, or come back, to church. And that’s something I don’t think any of us can argue about because we all know it’s something that needs to happen.

The archdeacon started his sermon though by recounting the story that someone had told him about their first visit to a church. This person hadn’t gone to church for any particular reason except that it was pouring with rain, and he wanted somewhere to shelter. The church was open, and he went in. But it’s what he found there that made this story worth telling. He said that what he found on entering that church, was an overwhelming sense of anticipation, a feeling that something important and very special was about to happen. And so he stayed. And not only did he stay on that day, but he also became a member of the Church and eventually went on to be ordained.

I don’t know which church that man entered on that day, but I wish I did because I’d visit the place to see if I could find out what they were doing there to create such a sense of anticipation in people who go into that church. Because that’s something we very rarely find isn’t it? It’s sad but true that more often than not, when we walk into a church, don’t we find something that resembles a marketplace or social club more than a place of holiness and holy expectation?

Some of us will no doubt have been in churches where cards have been put up or placed in the pews which say, ‘Speak to God before the service, and to each other after the service.’ The fact that these cards are commercially produced shows that there is a need for them and also shows the extent of this problem.

If we think about what happens when we walk into a church isn’t it true that, rather than the time before the service being spent in prayer and preparation for our meeting with the Lord in word and sacrament, it’s far more often spent engaging in social chit chat? Isn’t it true that, rather than spending time before the service thinking about the past week and contemplating how well we measured up to the example of Christ, and calling to mind our sins, it’s far more often spent chatting about what we did during the last week, where we went, what we watched on TV and so on? Isn’t it true that, rather than spending time before the service in anticipation of an encounter with the Lord, it’s far more often spent discussing our plans and social calendars for the next week?

If we are honest, we know that all this very often is true. In the past I’ve thrown people out of vestries because, just a few minutes before a service , while I was vesting and trying to pray in preparation for the service, the vestry was full of people discussing a party they were planning for later that day. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been in vestries trying to pray in preparation for a service against a veritable cacophony of voices outside the vestry. On more than one occasion, at services where there’s been no introit hymn I’ve come into church, and even got to the altar to start the service and people have still been milling around chatting. Where is the sense of anticipation, either in the people or in the church, when this goes on? Where is the sense of the holiness of the church or of what’s about to happen in church when this goes on? Where is the sense or understanding of the church as a time and space set aside from our daily cares and concerns and dedicated to God when this goes on?

Of course, part of the business that goes on in churches before services is church business, and that has to be done. Another problem in these days, when priests have multiple parishes, is that a priest can’t stay around too long after a service to chat to people because they have to be away to another parish for another service. So if people want to speak to their parish priest, the only time they can do it is before the service. But surely all that can be done while still leaving enough time for people, all people, to be able to spend some time in prayer and contemplation in preparation for the service? Surely all that can be done while still leaving some time for everyone to spend some time in anticipation of their meeting with the Lord in word and sacrament?

I think the problem really is that many people seem to see coming to church as simply another part of everyday life. And because they see coming to church as part of everyday life they don’t think anymore about preparing for what they do in church than they would about preparing to go shopping or taking the dog for a walk or watching Coronation Street or Match of the Day on TV. And I think that also comes over in people’s attitude towards church attendance. If people think there’s nothing special about coming to church then it really won’t matter to them if they don’t come. And so they adopt a take-it-or-leave-it attitude towards coming to church.

But coming to church is not simply another part of everyday life. Coming to church is a time set aside from everyday life in a place set aside from everyday life for us to encounter the holiness of God. And coming to church is not simply another part of everyday life because it’s also part of our commitment as disciples of Christ and, as this morning’s Gospel reminds us, being a disciple of Christ takes priority over everyday life.

In this morning’s Gospel, we read about three individuals who either say they’ll follow Jesus or are asked to follow Jesus. The first says he’ll follow Jesus wherever he goes. But Jesus responds by saying,

“Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”

That’s quite a strange answer but it tells us that, whatever we might think following Jesus entails, it’s not an easy thing to do. Jesus doesn’t even have a home on earth and so following Jesus means leaving earthly concerns behind. Following Jesus means putting him and the kingdom of God before the things of everyday life. And so that part of following Jesus that we call coming to church is not simply another part of everyday life, it is more than that and needs to be treated as more than that.

Jesus then meets someone else whom he invites to follow him. But the man wants to go and bury his father first. That’s a very understandable request but in response Jesus says,

“Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.”

That seems a very harsh and even uncaring thing to say. But Jesus himself wept at the grave of Lazarus. Jesus knew all about the pain of bereavement. So there must be more to his answer than it seems on the surface. What we can say about this encounter is that, in response to Jesus’ invitation to follow him, this man’s first response was to make an excuse not to follow, at least just yet. It may also have been that the burial the man was referring to was the second burial that was the norm at the time, when the deceased’s bones were collected and placed in an ossuary. In that case, Jesus’ answer is something of a pun in which he meant, let the spiritually dead bury their physically dead, you follow me and proclaim the kingdom. What this tells us is that our commitment to Jesus comes first; it comes before the concerns of everyday life, even if it clashes with our commitment to something really important in everyday terms, even family commitments. And that goes for our church attendance too.

So we should come to church. And when we’re in church, our commitment to what we’re in church for, to meet with the Lord in word and sacrament, and to worship the Lord, comes before anything else we might want or need to do in church. Chatting about everyday things, even doing church business, can wait until we’ve done what we’ve really come to church to do in the first place.

The third person Jesus meets in this morning’s Gospel offers to follow Jesus, he even calls him ‘Lord’ but, like the second man, he wants to do something else first, in this case, say goodbye to the people at home. And again, Jesus responds in what seems to be a quite harsh way;

“No one who puts his hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Jesus’ answer though, is a metaphor. This man offered to follow Jesus, but wanted to go home first, and then follow. But that’s not the way to follow Jesus because, just as someone ploughing a field who keeps looking back will veer off course with the plough, so someone who starts to follow Jesus but who keeps looking back to earthly things will also veer off course in their discipleship. And yet how many people do this when they come to church? How many people having come to church as part of their commitment to follow Jesus, when they get to church, are so concerned with everyday things that they seem to forget what they’re actually in church for? Isn’t the very reason why so many people don’t spend time in preparation for their encounter with the holiness of God in church – because they’re so busy dealing with everyday things when they come to church that there’s no time to prepare for what they’re about to do? Isn’t this why people are in vestries planning parties a few minutes before the service starts? Isn’t this why there’s so much noise in church until the moment the service starts? And isn’t this why some people are still chatting about everyday things even after a priest has made their way to the altar to start the service?

In his sermon last Tuesday, the archdeacon spoke about someone who was so captivated by the atmosphere of anticipation in a church that he stayed and eventually became a priest. I wonder what people would think if they came into this church on a Sunday morning. Would they be similarly captivated by the air of holy anticipation of people waiting to encounter the Lord in word and sacrament? Or would they think they’d walked into a church fair or social meeting? Which do you think it would be, and which do you think would be more likely to captivate them so that they came back again, and again, to worship the Lord and to become a disciple of Christ?

Amen.


The Propers for the 13th Sunday of Ordinary Time (Trinity 2) can be viewed here.