SERMONS
Christ Church 21/12/08 Luke
1:26 – 38
The Tale of Two Women
(Reaching
for the impossible)
A
tale of two women, obviously related and yet light years apart so far as age
and life experience were concerned. One, like the great matriarchs of the Old
Testament seemingly barren unto old age, the other, very young, and surprisingly
(if not shockingly) about to become pregnant.
A
symbolic tale of two wombs, if you will, growing, expanding, with the promise
of God; the hope of a new future, the gift of prophetic voice and being. A joy
to cradle, although the eventual pain of letting go, letting be.
I
guess many angles, many takes on this story are possible. For me this time around,(and
you might have guessed already), the wombish nature of it all, says much about
not only the deep intimate places of religious experience, but the highly creative
role and function of all religious experience. An experience. I might add, by
virtue of such a symbolic, mystical story, that is potentially ours also, and
not just for the players in this great drama.
For
as all the great spiritual writers and preachers have attested to, time after
time throughout history, the meeting place of God with God’s people lies
always 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 for
the betterment of all.
In
recent days, I’ve been reading a little about the life and work of Vincent
Van Gogh. A tragic life and figure in many ways and yet a legacy left to the
world of vibrant swirling colour and dynamic, heartfelt beauty, not unlike the
cosmic 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.
