Sermon 31 March: 'We are family'

We continue with our series exploring the four 'loves' of the New Testament.
This week, it's familial love - love of, and for, family [Gk. 'storge']
Prayers wove Mothering Sunday themes throughout,
while our readings reflected a fatherly love...
The sermon itself was split into three mini-reflections today.

1st READING: John 4:46-54

REFLECTION/ The father
The miles dragged.
Heat, dust, stones –
pebbles that caused him to stop,
take off his shoes,
shake them,
then try and put them on
his swollen feet once more.
The wind seemed to whisper –
telling stories of miracles
and God knew, he was in need of one.
He’d overheard the chatter of servants,
felt the ruffled feathers of the religious elite
as they spat his name out in conversation;
knew the king and court officials
were watching and wondering
if there was cause to worry.
But he was desperate,
and any hint of disapproval
or social embarrassment
in seeking out a subversive rabbi
was nothing...
if that rabbi could heal
his beautiful boy.
Each mile told a story:
looking into his wife’s eyes with wonder
as she held their new-born son;
watching with pride as his sturdy wee boy
took his first steps, fell down, and laughed,
not cried.
A strong one,
a fighter.
Fiery and funny,
blood of his blood
and mother’s joy.
They adored him.
Loved his curiosity,
saw the good in him,
washed an occasional scraped knee,
wondered about the man
he would one day become.
So much hope,
so many possibilities,
such potential.
But the hope turned to fear;
the possibilities took on a sinister turn,
and potential was fast becoming
like the taste of ashes.
As the miles drew on,
he saw a ruddy, healthy boy change;
grow pale,
waste away.
He’d called upon every physician,
and they came –
prodding and poking the boy
like a piece of meat,
tut-tutting and shaking their heads,
and offering no constructive advice
or practical solution.
One of the more kindly physicians
had gently tried to prepare him
and his wife for the worst.
The boy slept fitfully,
whimpering occasionally.
He and his wife watched and waited.
And wept.
Until news had come that the strange rabbi
was in the area once more –
across in Cana.
He remembered the stories of a wedding
and wine that seemed to flow forever.
He remembered other stories as well –
of those who were sick
being made well.
A last, desperate chance then.
He set off in the early hours of the morning,
the desperation propelling him along
the twenty miles from Capernaum,
a tiny flicker of hope,
not yet put out...

2nd READING: Romans 12:9-21

REFLECTION/ The followers
He’d lost track of the miles.
A man on a mission,
he’d been walking, for over twenty years now –
ever since he’d stopped persecuting the followers
of the man he’d once thought of
as a heretic and blasphemer.
He’d been wrong.
And, while travelling on the Damascus road
to arrest the followers of the radical rabbi,
he’d been struck blind by a bright light,
found himself on all fours,
on the ground,
heard a voice from heaven call his name –
Jesus.
He’d followed that voice ever since,
and in the years of following,
he’d travelled over dusty roads
shucking pebbles from his shoes
countless times.
He never minded.
Once a persecutor, he in turn had faced
his share of troubles for following the rabbi.
Somehow, he always managed to find a way
out of trouble –
God’s grace.
God watching over him,
protecting him
as a father to a son.
Over the miles,
so many stories gathered:
so many men and women,
boys and girls,
all told about Jesus –
so many added to the growing band of followers.
There were growing pains,
but so often, he was pleased with them:
like a proud father...
he’d seen them take their first steps in the faith,
heard through letters
of the good they were doing
in the communities where they lived.
His travels had taken him to Corinth,
to spend time with his brothers
and sisters in the faith –
his spiritual family.
Like any family, there were fallings out,
and he’d found his niche as a mediator
and community builder –
reconciling the family of followers in the
only way he knew:
showing the way of love.
And while he knew he wasn’t perfect,
while he knew that he, too, was perfectly
capable of falling out with brothers and sisters,
he also knew the wideness
of God’s mercy and love,
which helped him keep putting
one foot in front of the other
and following in faith.
And now, even while he was about to
head back cross to Jerusalem,
he was planning his next big trip:
a journey to Spain to share the message of Jesus.
Wanted to be the first to tell them the story
of the man he’d only met after Jesus had
died and risen and gone to glory.
The trip meant a chance to travel to Rome
and to spend time in the company of old and new members of this gathered family.
Time to write a letter.
Time to prepare the way
by cooking up a recipe for living in community.
He’d write them a shopping list of ingredients
which, when mixed together,
would create a feast:
a love feast to show how a family should
live together...
would show not only the kingdom of heaven
but the kin-dom of heaven.
Straightening the parchment,
taking the quill in hand,
he began:
‘Let love be real...’
He sprinkled in a little humility,
added some patience and prayer,
seasoned it with joy,
and tossed in a little spice –
flavouring it with forgiveness
and a great dollop of goodness.
Yes, that’d do nicely –
a recipe for love indeed.

REFLECTION/ 'It's fam'ly, innit'
An ongoing joke about the soap, ‘Eastenders’
is the fairly dire behaviour most folk indulge in on Albert Square –
and in among all the horrible words and actions,
when something really kicks off between neighbours,
you’re nearly always bound to hear the phrase often in Barbara Windsor's accent:
‘It’s about fam’ly, innit?’
Well, our readings today are indeed about family – ‘storge’ -
the word used to indicate the love of and for family.
We’ve got two types of family on display:
blood kin, and spiritual kin.
Let’s think about the first for a moment ...

In our gospel passage, you can almost smell
the sweat of the father’s exertion as he travels from Capernaum
to get to Jesus, 20 miles along the road in Cana.
He’s one of the palace officials –
one not supposed to be predisposed
to put his trust in one who was fast becoming seen as
some kind of subversive, religious radical.
Questions might be asked.
Answers that might not please the king....
but the father was desperate –
his faith that Jesus could just do something,
and his love for his poorly son,
propelled him along.

After a pretty impressive show of faith
by actually being prepared to travel twenty miles to get to Jesus,
the response of Jesus is interesting, well, odd –
it feels a bit... stand-offish.
But let’s think about what we know of the Gospel of John.
Time and time again, people are interested in Jesus,
or more to the point, in his signs and wonders.
They believe only after they’ve seen.
And for some of them, I suspect that Jesus becomes, in their minds,
a little like a spiritual vending machine –
insert prayer in this slot,
choose type of answer,
collect result.
In the exchange of words, however, Jesus realises the official may be a little different:
having told him to ‘go, your son will live,’
the man does exactly that – he goes off, taking Jesus at his word.
After Jesus has spoken, the official doesn’t ask Jesus
to come along back to Capernaum with him – just ‘in case’.
He doesn’t insist on seeing the miracle.
He believes, and goes.
As we heard, at the exact time Jesus tells the official his child will live,
across in Capernaum, his son recovers.
The love of the father for his son, and the faith he has put in Jesus wins the day –
this family has a happy ending.

In our reading from Romans, we find a different understanding of family:
family as a spiritual kind of kinship...
Here, we see Paul, in an almost parental mode, writing to fellow followers,
giving advice to a Christian community –
who he considered to be his spiritual children.
And we have a bit of a diverse family of followers:
some had been Jewish,
some had followed the Roman gods...
there were squabbles as to who got preference:
could the Gentile followers have the same rights as their brothers and sisters in the faith?
While some in that community were saying a very firm ‘no’,
Paul says ‘yes’
and his letter to this family of falling out followers
is to help them be a more harmonious family –
working together to work out God’s purposes in the world, not engaging in squabbles.
How to do this?
By giving some practical tips for living and loving together,
by providing a long list of examples that show
how to demonstrate love for a fellow faith family member.
Here is the love that cares for one another,
a love of compassionate care,
a love demonstrating the deep connection –
the bond between fellow family members.
Paul emphasises kinship.
Here love is not just an individual matter –
this is about the Body of Christ,
it’s about community,
it’s about brothers and sisters who are God’s children
and who work not for their own reward, but the reward for all.
‘This is about common good, an intuitive way of living towards each other,
closely bound together in the love we have for friends and family 
which shapes the structure of our daily lives.’  [David Lose]

Paul’s little love list – the list that, if followed, would help the family of followers
in Rome thrive in their faith –
is a great corrective to our modern world’s fixation on the mantra that
only the strongest, leanest, fittest, hottest, wealthiest survive.
Rather than creating a dog-eat-dog society where the most vulnerable,
or the ones who don’t quite conform, are left behind,
Paul’s list, urging each part of the body of Christ to love in these different ways
is a hallmark leading us right back to the radical rabbi, Jesus,
the One who command that we love one another, just as he loved us.
Paul’s list points right back to Jesus’s own love:
Be authentic? Jesus showed us what it was to be real.
Never be lacking in zeal? Well, Jesus had that figured as well –
showing though his words and energy during his ministry his love for the Father.
Humility – Jesus again modelled that.
As to not repaying evil with evil, Jesus went to the Cross uncomplaining –
and, even as his enemies tried to break him,
he broke the cycle of violence and destroyed death – through love itself.
He calls us his brothers and sisters and shows us what real family looks like:
welcoming,
hospitable,
looking out for the stranger,
connected...
outward looking.

Paul’s love list is a handy check list.
This week, why not re-read each item on the list and actively work on each one?
After all, ‘these words about familial love are not meant to be just aspirational, 
but are to be the bottom line in being the Body of Christ.’  [Spill the Beans]
It's about fam'ly, innit - God’s family.
Amen.