SERMONS

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Sean Gilbert – 15/11/09

Christ Church            1 Samuel: 1 - 2:8

      Of late I have been reading a gripping true story of escape from a Siberian Soviet labour camp in the early years of WWII.  A young Polish soldier, arrested on trumped –up espionage charges, then horribly tortured, starved, marched in the snow for hundreds of kilometres, still survives to lead a group of men in an equally tortuous trek to freedom south to Mongolia, Tibet and finally through to India.

Throughout, countless fellow prisoners die, broken in body and soul, yet he remains, driven as he says by the desire or will to live. And into that mix, his strong sense of indignation, the denial of his dignity that he simply will not abide with or succumb to.

      It is a time attested principle, is it not; where there is a deep will, there is a way, or where there is desire, there is life. I remember someone once turning Descartes’  “I think, therefore I am” on its head with, “I yearn, therefore I am.”  It certainly makes good sense to me.

The poet (one in our midst actually) says this:
“To find your voice
You must search in
The place of deepest longing...”   
                                                                                                
I think for many of us such longing is an under-exercised muscle, if you will. And particularly in religious circles, that by their very nature, impose static morals, virtues, teachings, and expectations for holy and just living and that should be enough. And at the heart of the approach that is the “accept your lot in life” principle and work from there. Don’t complain (other than in private) and certainly don’t rock the boat with such personal intent and need. After all, it is all about the service of others, not the fulfilment and growth of self.

            Well, Hannah, like so many other amazing women in the scriptures just won’t buy such male, controlling, repressive drivel. In contradiction to her husband who thinks his divided love should be enough, and before the priestly Eli, in the temple of Yahweh, Hannah pours out her soul; she gives silent or deadening voice to what is most pressing and true to her, the gift of a child: longed for fruit of her yearning barren womb.

            And rather than being a scandalous, presumptive act, it remains the model for true and authentic prayer. For here is no politeness and precise phrasing, there is no clever theology and impressive syntax. No, “No, my Lord, I am a woman deeply troubled; I have drunk neither wine nor string drink, but I have been pouring my soul before the Lord.”

            And, as I’ve often suggested, it is in this vulnerable, honest and searching and messy place, that the presence and grace of God is most knowable. Not in the intellect or emotion, as one of my wise teachers once said, but in the affections – the heart space, the bowel space, the womb space. Because only from such deep places that have oft known the brokenness of life, can gestation and re-birthing on a regular basis take place.

            It was exactly what Trish shared with us this time last week when asked how she replenishes her creative energies, even in spite of disinterest or non-affirmation. She goes back to the well-spring of God’s love which finds her acceptable and worthwhile in every way imaginable. And it’s that depth of love that faithfully meets us in our most needy and often barren places.

            Writes John Pfitzner:
 “Unearthed (your voice) may be found to be
malnourished, suffering from neglect.
You will need to be gentle with it,
nurturing it, building up its strength.”

            It occurs to me that we still have a lot of unlearning and re-learning so far as
prayer, worship, faith and Christian witness is concerned. And while I think
it is nigh-impossible to live from the heart continually – that’s why we have
frameworks of commitment to hold us up when we’re struggling – the
example of Hannah is more than instructive. She is greatly inspiring.

            On Friday morning, another one of our number, Dorothy McKay showed
me the first draft of her first collection of poems, entitled, "Wanting to
Soar like the Eagles, Upheld by Grace... my journey with secondary cancer."“
I wasn’t just impressed. I was awe-struck by the strength, the honesty,
beauty and genuinely searching nature of some 67 poems/prayers all
written since June. “I don’t really know where they come from,” Dorothy
said.  Well, I think I do; from a heart opened by desiring love and a heart to love through gifts of creativity and art. I felt, and still feel, like I was on holy ground that morning. The presence of God clearly expressed through the hands and mind of a yearning, longing pilgrim.

            It is always my hope that our common life together and our worship encourage that kind of journey, if not trek to freedom. Never one of safety
or certainty but of honest enquiry, exploration, and gratitude, and of expressed need. From such a base of open faith and kindness, truly great things can be born and shared.

                              Let us take a few moments for our own thoughts and prayer…