SERMONS
Christ Church 21/12/08 Luke 1:26 – 38
The Tale of Two Women
(Reachingfor the impossible)
Atale of two women, obviously related and yet light years apart so far as ageand life experience were concerned. One, like the great matriarchs of the OldTestament seemingly barren unto old age, the other, very young, and surprisingly(if not shockingly) about to become pregnant.
Asymbolic tale of two wombs, if you will, growing, expanding, with the promiseof God; the hope of a new future, the gift of prophetic voice and being. A joyto cradle, although the eventual pain of letting go, letting be.
Iguess many angles, many takes on this story are possible. For me this time around,(andyou might have guessed already), the wombish nature of it all, says much aboutnot only the deep intimate places of religious experience, but the highly creativerole and function of all religious experience. An experience. I might add, byvirtue of such a symbolic, mystical story, that is potentially ours also, andnot just for the players in this great drama.
Foras all the great spiritual writers and preachers have attested to, time aftertime throughout history, the meeting place of God with God’s people liesalways in the deep, sacred realms of holy desire. That imaginative place of yearning,longing or reaching for what might at first appear to be impossible,but is in actual fact, a work of art awaiting to be born forthe betterment of all.
Inrecent days, I’ve been reading a little about the life and work of VincentVan Gogh. A tragic life and figure in many ways and yet a legacy left to theworld of vibrant swirling colour and dynamic, heartfelt beauty, not unlike thecosmic energy in Rod Pattenden’s hanging here.
Writing to a friend in the latter part of his life he said: “Imagination is a capacity that must be developed, and only it enables us to create a more exalting and consoling nature, than what just a (mere) glance at reality allows us to perceive. A starry sky – for example, well – that’s a thing I would like to try to do...”
Well, thanks be to God that Vincent did reach successfully (on our behalf) for that impossibility. What a series of paintings... Someone willing to be used as a creative channel, a medium to the rest of us - of Spirit, of the Divine no less!
And so it occurs to me, that with so much attention in the church given over to form, planning and order (and always respectability), that our practice of faith, our worship, can also be but a “quick glance at reality”; or an innocuous skating over the deeper, more important things, hence a lack of true adoration, a lack of lasting and felt consolation.
This imaginative capacity, this honouring of the creative womb in each of us, has simply got to be a major part of who we are and what we exist for, as a community. For not unlike the Elizabeth and Mary story, the mysterious presence of God with God’s people, stirs and empowers us in the radical, foolish openness of heart, in the naming and honouring of desire; the things we really love and value. “Here am I, the servant/handmaiden of the Lord (“douln kuriou”). Let it be with me , according to your word.” A word of conception, no less, maybe even permission and, continuing to think metaphorically, this word always comes to us – maybe not in such dramatic fashion – at the point of our openness and daring, the point that would take us well beyond the safe and the sure, yet to the places of genuine living, even courageous dying.
As somewhat of an aside, I don’t know how many people heard the Archbishop of Canterbury the other day. He expressed a striking non-concern for his church as institution or establishment (remembering where he lives, on the banks of the Thames overlooking the Houses of Parliament), because in the end it is dependent on God, not the state, he said, for its ongoing life and its witness. Good on him, I say. For his is a leadership that calls us back to what is most pressing and important, that being to the spirited and creative presence, alive and expressive in our midst. We so badly need faithful, believing leadership like this.
So a reading of this text, like all the nativity / Christmas texts, can indeed take us somewhere beyond an impossible and quaint history; therefore beyond a quick dismissal into the realms or the wastepaper basket of irrelevancy. For it can also take us into our story of human yearning, imagining, and reaching, if not the desire for re-birth and wholeness.
Friends, let this story have its sacred and strange way with you then. Indeed, may Elizabeth and Mary’s availability, belief and courage be for us and be alive within us, this day and on into the unknown future.
