Sermon 9th July 2017

Today, our Assistant Minister, Gill Tayleur, preaches. The reading is from Acts 14: verses 8 - 20

I have a sneaky sympathy for the medical profession. A few generations ago, everyone knew that there were lots of diseases and ailments that couldn’t be cured. A doctor was expected to give sympathy, kindness, wise advice and sometimes,

an actual cure for an actual illness. But people knew that a lot of the time doctors couldn’t make much difference. They could help alleviate symptoms and provide support, but not actually stop the illness from taking its course. Sometimes taking its course meant the patient getting better in time; sometimes it meant deterioration and the end. But nowadays everyone expects doctors to be able to fix almost everything.

In the news this week was this report: Cancer patients should be routinely offered DNA tests to help select the best treatments for them, according to England's Chief Medical Officer. Prof Dame Sally Davies says in her annual report that the NHS must deliver her genomic dream" within five years. Over 31,000 NHS patients, including some with cancer, have already had  their entire genetic code sequenced. Dame Sally wants whole genome sequencing (WGS) to become as standard as blood tests and biopsies.

Such scientific and medical advancements are extraordinary, and amazing, and it is wonderful that so many conditions can indeed be treated and even cured. Of course these developments feed our hopes  for the future. But they also feed our unconscious unrealistic expectations that the time is rapidly approaching when nobody will have to suffer very much from anything. And that doctors will be able to sort everything out. And fast, preferably by next week!

We boost such hopes - But then when our doctor, or hospital, doesn’t deliver the goods on time,

we push them off the pedestal we’ve built for them. We may declare that they’re useless, incompetent, or fakes. We grumble when we can’t get an appointment at once, we complain bitterly if someone goes to hospital with one disease and contacts a different one while they are there. One way or another, we make the doctors either gods or devils. We either divinize or demonise them. It happens to others too, we put them on a pedestal and then knock them off it. It can’t be much fun.

In a rather different way, this kind of thing happened to Paul and Barnabas too, in the Bible reading we just heard. The way Luke tells it, it’s almost funny.

Adrian introduced this series with the title “Snapshots from a Roadtrip”. The roadtrip that Paul was on, his first missionary journey as it later became known, traveling round spreading the good news of Jesus Christ,

his teaching, his death and his resurrection. This is the fourth week we’ve looked at the roadtrip, and today’s snapshot happens In Lystra, now in present day Turkey.

Today’s scene starts with a man who had been lame from birth; he had never been able to walk. Paul looked him in the eye and told him to stand up on his feet – and he did! He was healed, right there on the spot! Truly a miracle! And what happens? All of a sudden there’s a great solemn procession coming, pagan religion at its most serious, with garlands of flowers and bulls all ready for a great celebratory sacrifice – to Paul and Barnabas, thinking they were the Greek gods Zeus & Hermes come to earth! Led by the priest of the nearby temple of Zeus, they brought these things as offerings to Paul and Barnabas. This is exactly the sort of thing that Paul wanted to declare was irrelevant to worshipping the true God.

It seems there was a legend that used to be told in and around Lystra in ancient times. There was a story,

referred to in a Latin poem by Ovid, that once upon a time, the Greek gods Zeus and Hermes had come to this earth in disguise. No one would give them hospitality until eventually 2 old peasant people

took them in. The gods were so angry that they wiped out the whole population apart from those 2, who, the legend said, were made guardians of a splendid temple and were turned into 2 great trees when they died.

So it may be that the local people there were always on the lookout in case it happened again one day. And now they think it has! And the people bring Barnabas and Paul their solemn offerings, thinking they are  Zeus and Hermes.

It’s all a bit comical almost, ironic certainly, as Paul and Barnabas were missionaries taking the message of the One True God, the God of Abraham, the God of Jewish mono-thee-ism who stands against all pagan idols and declares they are empty nonsense. Paul and Barnabas are not only faced with the full show of pagan worship, they are themselves identified with the very gods they have come to debunk! It is remarkable what can happen to a message when the hearers insist on putting it firmly into their own worldview.

Soon Paul and Barnabas have explained the mistake, although they do this with some difficulty (verse 18), because once people are in the swing of having a ritual and a party and a celebration meal all rolled into one, which pagan sacrifices were, then they are going to be disappointed if you stop them! And then the mood of the crowd changes. If these people aren’t Zeus and Hermes, who on earth are they? They must be imposters!

At this point Luke tells us that some Jews came from Antioch and Iconium, still righteously indignant at the message that flew in the face of their traditions – just at the point when Paul and Barnabas have been explaining that the message flies in the face of the pagan traditions as well. The result is inevitable: violence.

What is remarkable is that Paul survived it. As the main speaker by this stage, identified with Hermes, the messenger of the gods, Paul seems to have become the main target. You’d have thought that if they thought Barnabas was impersonating Zeus, he would have been an equal target but it seems not. Paul is stoned. We tend to think of stoning to death, but that wasn’t always the case.

What a fickle crowd! One minute hailing Paul and Barnabas as gods, the next attacking them.

But at the heart of this passage is what Paul and Barnabas say when they realise what the crowds are about to do, that they’re going to offer them sacrifices as gods. Verses 15 to 18 tell us what is said, and it’s totally unlike

what Paul said at the synagogue in Antioch, where he was addressing devout and potentially suspicious Jews. Now in Lystra he is speaking to devout and very muddled pagans, and he has got to speak quickly and under pressure to say the least. What Paul says could equally well have been said by a non Christian Jewish missionary.

Paul begins with God the creator: the God who made the heaven, the earth, the sea and all that is in them. This foundational belief comes as a huge sigh of relief to those who have lived in a world of many gods and goddesses, each concerned with their own business, ready to do favours or lash out if annoyed. And needing to be placated by hapless humans. No, says Paul, there is one God and he made the lot. He is responsible for all the good things in the world, and if you don’t see that then you are guilty of ingratitude to the one who loves you and cares for you. Crops and good weather, seedtime and harvest, are all signs of the goodness and love of this one true God.

What then can we say about the muddles and messes that humans have got themselves into? God is prepared to overlook all that, says Paul in verse 16. He has been preparing a long slow plan to put the world right, and now is the time to set things straight. Paul doesn’t get the chance to even mention the name of Jesus. Maybe if he had, these listeners would have simply tried to fit him in to their pagan thought-world, as happened in Athens a few chapters on in Acts 17.

As Bishop Tom Wright says in his commentary – and I’ve used his thoughts substantially already – “one of the things this passage highlights is the almost bottomless pit of potential misunderstandings that await anyone who tries to speak, and live out, the essentially Jewish message of the gospel, with its remarkable news of the one true creator God” He says, “There are so many barriers in the way, so much anger against the way the world is, often with people simultaneously blaming God for all the bad and yet declaring that they don’t believe in him. There’s so much distortion of what the message is, through bad teaching, or bad experience of church or synagogue. But the point of this whole narrative, in its larger framework, is precisely to show the explosive, if deeply confusing effects of taking the message of Jesus out into the wider world. The journey of the gospel to the ends of the earth is unstoppable, but uncomfortable. That comes with the territory.” Tom Wright.

So what does all this say to us today, about the place of faith, and faiths, in our society? In our multifaith, multi cultural society?

Hmmmm. This is a large, huge, question, a complex, nuanced and sensitive one. I’m not even going to try and give a complete answer, or any answer really

to the related questions about how Christianity and other religions fit together, or don’t?

This Bible passage, and many others in the New Testament, show the followers of Jesus spreading the news of his life, teaching, death and resurrection, as the good news, great news, life and death news, that it was and is. The best of all news, which offers God’s love, mercy, new life, meaning and hope, to all who will accept them. Here, Paul and Barnabas, and elsewhere many others, spread this news with enormous conviction, passion and courage – literally risking their lives to do so. (And of course there were many who did die for their faith. Including Paul, for sure, and very likely Barnabas too)

Jesus’ teaching too, calls us to share our faith in word and deed, to share God’s love, truth, hope, forgiveness and grace, with those around us, with our needy world.

And Jesus’ and New Testament teaching also tells us to act and speak with care, genuine care, for others.

“Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect” 1 Peter

“Let your speech always be full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone” from Colossians

“Speak the truth in love”

“Be completely humble, gentle and patient” both quotes from Ephesians

And so on.

So we need to remember that we always, ALWAYS, need to speak to – and of – others with love. In this context that means that we respond to others with different faith views with respect, with dignity, and with genuine admiration and appreciation for how they are seeking to live out their own faith themselves.

On Radio 4’s Thought for the Day a few days ago, John Bell, the Church of Scotland minister known for his connections with the Iona community, spoke of an incident he had seen in a small church just outside Ottowa Canada two weeks ago today. That Sunday morning, near the beginning of the service, the minister looked up to the entrance, and said in a surprised tone, “I think we have visitors.” And started saying very warmly, “come in, come in, you’re welcome”. John Bell thought it must have been some late comers, but then a group of children, all dressed in traditionally Asian or middle eastern dress, walked shyly down the aisle to the front of the church with a man carrying a basket of pastries. Another 20 adults who were part of the same group stood at the back watching. The man carrying the pastries said, “As you will recognise, I’m the imam of your local mosque. And as you may know, today is the first day after the long period of fasting we call Ramadan. So, we wanted to come here today to share our food with you. And to say thank you that recently, when another mosque was attacked, the people of this church prayed for us and sent us messages of support and solidarity.” The imam and minister embraced, and then he and his group left, to rapturous applause.

It got me thinking. Could we have, should we have, do we have, relationships of mutual respect like that with people of other faiths or none? Humble, kind, respectful relationships that can open up conversation and dialogue? Listening, understanding, supporting, as well as seeking to share God’s truth and love in word and deed. Loving our neighbour in every way.

I read an article just yesterday called Divided Britain, originally published in the Sunday Times by Sarfraz Mansoor,who describes himself as the son of Pakistani immigrants, married to a white Scot, raising mixed race children. There has been a lot said recently about how in so many parts of the country, people of different cultures and faiths simply don’t mix in their everyday lives. In London, it may feel different, with everyone together at work, commuting, at the playground, at the gym. But even for us here, how much do we really get to know one another well enough to have meaningful relationships, that bring real engagement? It was a challenge to me, to look for opportunities to be more open to that.

And Sarfraz Mansoor makes the connection with radicalism. I quote: “There is no simple way to combat radicalism, but to me it seems obvious that part of the solution is to encourage everyone to believe that this country is their home. As with any home, there will be things one may not like, but if you truly believe it is your home, you are unlikely to want to blow it up or kill those who share it with you.” And he goes on to say, “When I imagine the future, I see two possible roads: one in which communities pull further apart, tensions keep rising and things turn increasingly violent. The other is where we fight for what we have in common – fight for every heart and mind – and in so doing, this country will be strengthened and enriched. This is the new battle for Britain… that must be joined and won.” As I say, it challenged me to think of what relationships I can have and nurture across cultural and faith divides.

To finish, back to the church in Canada with the visit from the imam and Muslim children, on Thought for the Day. John Bell described it as a very moving scene. He said, “it always is when you see before your eyes what Desmond Tutu articulated in the words: Goodness is stronger than evil; life is stronger than death; light is stronger than darkness and love is stronger than hate.” Amen.

Postscript: After preaching this sermon today, this afternoon Trevor and I were walking past a mosque in Haringay, the London Islamic and Cultural Centre and Mosque, quite by chance. The gate was open, so we went in and extended a hand of friendship to the man at the door. He invited us in very warmly, insisted on finding the Imam, who gave us a fulsome tour of the building and contextual information about Islam.  Had I not preached this sermon this probably would not have happened!