Sermon for 12.07.20

Harvesting in a time of pandemic

By The Revd Preb. Marjorie Brown

How are you feeling at this point in our global experience of the pandemic? What have been your recent joys? What has frustrated you? For so many of us the answer is quite a mixed bag. There have been good things about being locked down – more time, perhaps, to relax with loved ones, to read, cook, garden, exercise, catch up on box sets, chat online – and perhaps there has even been some time to reflect and try to make sense of it all.

There have also, I am sure, been frustrations for everyone. Holidays and family events postponed. Meetings with friends missed. No chance to make music with others, or go to live theatre, or until recently to have a haircut, a meal in a restaurant, a drink in a pub, or a live service in church. Medical and dental needs may have gone unmet. Many people have lost jobs or watched their business begin to fall apart. For some it has been unimaginably worse – unbearable loneliness, deep anxiety, the risk of violence in the home, or real financial hardship have been the hallmarks of this time.

A few things, though, have united everyone on the planet. All of us have experienced helplessness to some degree. We have not had the control over our lives that we normally take for granted. The future has become uncertain. Plans we are used to making with confidence have to be left in the Wait and see category. We have to recognise that we are in the power of something quite beyond ourselves – it may be a microscopically tiny virus that has no purpose other than replicating itself, but it has turned the entire world upside down.

So maybe it’s a good time to remember that this is actually the truth all the time: we are not in control. Now I’m not saying that God has allowed coronavirus to be some kind of playground bully who goes around kicking our sandcastles or breaking our toys. But when things go differently from the way we planned them, it’s good to reflect and ask some questions. What was the basis on which we built our plans? Were we assuming that the world would go on making us happier, healthier, richer and more comfortable? Did we take it for granted that this would happen at no cost to us?

Emily said to me the other day that in the pandemic it feels a bit as though the whole world has been put on the naughty step. This is not because God is punishing us but because in a rational universe of cause and effect we reap what we sow. Selfish and sinful actions have consequences. We need to stop and take a good long look at ourselves.

Why has the virus hit poor communities so much harder than wealthy ones? Why are so many of the members of those poorer communities black and minority ethnic? Why have the greatest numbers of death occurred in places of residential care for elderly and vulnerable people? Why have those who already suffer from social isolation or poor mental health or unstable relationships been hit so much harder than the better off? What kind of a world have we allowed to be built in our name?

If you’re around my age you may be getting a bit tired of the phrase “OK Boomer” spoken bitterly to us by Millennials when our respective life chances are compared. But the young ones have a point. The luckier members of the generation that benefited from the creation of the NHS, free education, a booming economy, reasonably priced property, and guilt-free global travel are now being asked to consider whether we have frankly had much more than our fair share. And what we now think we ought to do about it.

Jesus told a parable about seed being sown in different kinds of soil. Jesus Christ himself is of course the seed, the Word of God. What kind of soil does he find in each of us? We’d all like to think of ourselves as the rich, nutrient-filled and weed-free compost, of course. But I am increasingly aware of the thorns and stones that I have so often failed to acknowledge. 

The seed of God’s word is very welcome in my patch, of course – but if it means I have to so some serious weeding I’m not quite so keen. And I believe that globally that is where the rich West has some collective work to do.

We can’t just do it individually, or as a family or a neighbourhood or a parish, but if it doesn’t start from the bottom up then no change will happen at all. We’ve already committed ourselves to being an eco-friendly church. We try our best to be an inclusive church. In the last few years we have made some efforts in the areas of debt and mental health. But I think the pandemic now provides us the perfect time to go much more deeply into our own hearts and try to identify what it is that makes real change so difficult.

Thirty-five years ago the radical report Faith in the City about urban poverty and racial inequality was firing up many people in the Church of England, and sadly very little has changed since then. We have talked the talk, but the soil is still poor. We remain a largely white, middle-class, comfortable church with no real intention of being transformed.

Now the virus has given us a wake-up call. Perhaps we can listen again to the cautionary words of Paul to the Romans. Those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. When Paul says flesh he doesn’t mean just lust or greed or other appetites of the body. He means everything that relates to our experience of human mortality. It is the habit of limiting our vision to what suits us here and now, what feeds our selfishness and takes our eyes off the things that matter eternally.

It certainly makes my life pleasanter if other people clean my street and deliver my groceries and care for the people who make me feel uncomfortable, and if they do all this for very little pay or recognition. It’s very convenient if people who look and talk like me, who have similar education and pastimes, make all the rules that shape my life. But it doesn’t look much like the kingdom of God.

I want to propose that we take make a serious response to Paul’s challenge to set our minds on the things of the Spirit. To remember that we are not in charge, and that our actions may have logical but unforeseen consequences. To face the cost to others, and to the environment, of the life we lead.

It’s hard to know where to begin, what little steps we may need to take before we can be part of a bigger change. But let’s try, here at St Mary’s. I suggest that after the summer, we spend the next few months digging deeply into our soil to try to identify and uproot whatever is choking the life of the Spirit. 

Just as the pandemic struck, we were getting started on doing exactly this in terms of our ecological responsibility. That will of course continue to be a major focus of our communal life. I suggest we add three more study areas for the rest of this unprecedented calendar year of 2020. Let’s read, think, listen, discuss, learn and pray, before we rush into particular actions. 

In September, as more children return to school and as many young people move on to university or working life or the search for a job, let’s focus on the mental health of young people. The loss of six months of normal education and the prospect of a crashing economy will hit this generation the hardest of all. It’s not OK, Boomers. We have to face this and do what we can. Our youthwork programme is of course deeply committed to this work already, but we all need to be more aware of how the life and health of our children and grandchildren are being blighted.

In October, which is Black History Month, let’s learn what lessons we can from Black Lives Matter, and from dialogue in our own church community. Let’s study the roots of racism that are endemic, and even to our eyes invisible, in our nation and our church. We’ll have speakers and books and films to help us all to have the uncomfortable but badly needed talk about race in the life of the church.

And in November, the month of remembering, let’s focus on the elderly members of our community. Why, in western countries, have they been the ones to bear the brunt of the pandemic? What is wrong with our society that we allow old people to be forgotten and put at risk? 

While we remain for the time being socially isolated to some degree, we can take the opportunity to cultivate our soil so that God’s action in our lives is not hindered by our inward focus. May this be a time of grace and growth.