Catholic Contextual urban Theology, Mimetic Theory, Contemplative Prayer. And other random ramblings.

Sunday, 9 February 2014

Sermon at Parish Mass, Fourth Sunday before Lent 2014


The Mount of the Beatitudes


Isaiah 58.1-9a
1 Corinthians 2.1-12
Matthew 5.1,13-20

That gospel reading was part of the beginning of the sermon on the mount, which occupies three chapters in Matthew. The fact that this key teaching of Jesus happens on a mountain is significant. In the Old Testament Moses received the Law on Mount Sinai. So now Jesus, the new and greater Moses, also gives his law on the mountain. 
But there is a key difference between Moses and Jesus. Moses was the messenger. He had the law given to him, words for him to carry down on stone tablets. But Jesus appears on the mountain as the law in person. He is himself both the messenger and the message. 
In the sermon he gives what are called the beatitudes: the “blessed are you” sayings. “Blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are the meek, the pure in heart, those who mourn, those who are persecuted”, and so on. And those sayings describe Jesus. He models the law he preaches. In place of a written law on stone tablets there is a person. The law is no longer instructions from a distance - behave this way because I say so. In Jesus it is seen that the law is what God is like, revealed in person. The person and the teaching of Jesus cannot be separated. 
And Jesus draws his disciples to him on the mountain. They gather to him as he is revealed as the law in person. He takes his seat - the position of teaching authority - and teaches them. And says to them these astonishing words:
You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hidden... let your light shine before others.
We might perhaps expect Jesus to say something like this of himself. Indeed in John’s Gospel he does, “I am the light of the world”. But here he also says the same thing about his disciples. “You are the light of the world.”
Those who go to Jesus up the mountain are drawn to him by some great power of attraction. This is part of the great revelation of God in Jesus. God is attractive! His love and light draw people to him, when he is revealed in person. 
And those who are drawn to the light shining from Jesus reflect that light. They, too, begin to show what God is like. And they show it in a way that the world can’t help but notice. The light of the world. The salt of the earth. A city built on a hill that cannot be hidden. 
This is the Church, the people that Jesus calls and draws to himself. The first Israel was formed around the law revealed on Sinai. The Church of Jesus is the new Israel, not a denial of the old but the original Israel expanded to embrace all nations, formed by the revelation of God in Jesus, drawing all people to himself.
This is the key to understanding the sermon on the mount. The sermon is not a set of ethical instructions: live like this and you will become a follower of Jesus. It is the other way round. Those who are attracted by Jesus and drawn to him will begin to reflect his light and therefore will live like Jesus lives. The sermon describes how Jesus lives, and how his Church will live. 
So the Church of Jesus, also, cannot be separated from the person and work of Jesus. The three go together, drawing their life from the inexhaustible well which is the communion of Jesus with the Father, God’s revelation of himself in person. The first disciples drew near to Jesus on the mountain and were transformed into his image. In the same way disciples today draw near to Jesus, on the mountain of prayer, and above all in the Eucharist where we touch and receive his living self, the summit and source of the Church’s life.
The Church cannot be cut off from Jesus and still be the Church. As Jesus says in St John’s Gospel, I am the vine, you are the branches, abide in me, for cut off from me you can do nothing. The source of the Church’s life is not itself; it is Jesus. 
Now it is all too true, and tragic, that sin and failure in the institution of the Church can obscure this truth. But nevertheless the divine source of the Church’s life remains, even when buried is the all too human mess. And the Church is, necessarily, visible. It is not an idea or an aspiration, but a concrete reality, an actual people making a difference in the world. Jesus names his Church the salt of the earth, the light of the world, a city built on a hill which cannot be hidden. 
If you are drawn to Jesus and follow him, then you are going to be that light and salt and city too. You can’t be an invisible follower of Jesus! You can't be a follower of Jesus and not make a difference!
To take two examples from events this last week. At Stratford Magistrates’ Court five Christian peace activists were on trial. They had been arrested after praying and protesting outside the arms fair held at the Excel exhibition centre last year. Various international arms dealers had set up their stalls selling their wares and wanted to get on with making a killing, so to speak. And these Christians were getting in the way. So they were arrested. Two firms at the fair were as it happens selling illegal torture equipment, but they were not arrested. In court the activists were accused of such terrible activities as “shouting loudly in a religious manner”. Fortunately the magistrates showed sense and discretion and acquitted them.
Another event last week was the sixty-second anniversary of the Queen’s accession. The Queen has spoken many times of her understanding of her role as one of service, often making the point that as Christ came to serve so his followers must do the same. We may be used to such language, but we shouldn’t forget how radically different that idea was when Jesus first taught it. “Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first must be the willing slave of all.” Yet here is a ruler, not ashamed to own that she is a Christian and to speak of her role as one of service. 
In both of those very different examples we see Christians taking their faith seriously, being visibly different and making a real difference in the world.
Today over coffee after Mass we begin our ‘big conversation’, seeking the views of all our members on our mission as a church as we prepare to renew our Mission Action Plan. What it may mean for us at this time and in this place to be the salt of the earth, the light of the world, a city built on a hill which cannot be hidden. We’ll be exploring this under the headings of Capital Vision 2020, the Diocese of London’s mission programme, which is about being confident, compassionate and creative in our discipleship. 
But we need to get this the right way round! If we don’t it will just be a box ticking exercise to help fill the diocesan filing cabinets. Everything we do flows from Jesus. It is because he draws us to him, and we respond to his call, that we reflect his light. Our mission is his life flowing through us into the world. 
At the end of last year we spent some time reflecting on the call of Jesus to us in our month of prayer, returning to that source of our life and our mission. Now we turn our gaze outwards to the world, not to turn our backs on Jesus but to share his light and life with others. But we can only do so by remaining deeply rooted in him. Our life is his life, or it is no life. Our light is his light, or it is no light. 
But rooted in Jesus, drawing our life from him, staying close to him, we will explore and discover what it means in this community, at this time, to be his Church. Which is the particular way in which we are called to be the salt of the earth, the light of the world, a city built on a hill which cannot be hidden.

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