The Emmaus Road - Easter 3

“Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road?” Luke 24.32

You know what it’s like. You’re invited out to supper and you gladly agree and put the date of the Friday night in your diary.

But when that Friday comes, you’re exhausted. It’s the end of a long week. You just want to get home, open a bottle of wine and settle down to watch Coronation Street and CSI and wake up half way through newsnight.

The last thing you feel like doing is dressing up and getting back on an overcrowded tube train again.

But, you can’t get to supper without making a journey.

So in today’s Gospel, it’s Easter Sunday afternoon. It’s been a traumatic three days for these two disciples of Christ, Cleopas, and perhaps his wife, Mary. (Cf John 19.25)

But they can’t get home for supper without making a journey.

They are despondent, confused, disappointed and exhausted as they set out on the two-hour walk from Jerusalem to Emmaus, hoping to arrive home before nightfall at about 7.

A stranger joins them on the road – nothing too surprising there. There’s safety in numbers on a dangerous road.

But he must be the only person in Jerusalem who seems to know nothing of the events of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and the rumours which flew about this morning that some women had found the tomb of Jesus empty with angels telling them he was alive. Clearly they were deluded and confused.

So Jesus gives them a Bible study for an hour or two. He explains to them what Scripture says about the Messiah – about himself.

But they still don’t get it.

At last they reach Emmaus and Jesus looks as if he’s travelling on beyond the village. Cleopas and Mary are unwilling to see this stranger go off into the dangerous night and press him to stay for supper and sleep on the couch.

And then there’s the famous revelation; the subject of a thousand paintings, of sculptures and stained glass windows and the Caravaggio on the front of today’s Service Sheet.

When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognised him, and he disappeared from their sight. (Luke 24.30f)

They met with Jesus in the breaking of bread. (Luke 24.35)

The breaking of the word, his explanation of the Scriptures, had not been enough. They had not understood it until his actions took them back to the scene in the upper room on Thursday a few days ago – his Last Supper. They had been talking with the other disciples about it all since his death on Friday.

For many people, doctrine and dogma and Bible verses are not enough. Indeed, they sometimes obscure the presence of Jesus. He is not recognised in them.

It is in the mystery of the Breaking of Bread that he is both recognised and disappears from our sight: the hiddenness of God; the Cloud of Unknowing; the believing and seeing and hoping; yet doubting and wondering where God is and why he seems so silent.

In our Anglo-Catholic tradition, we know that liturgy and music and symbols take us beyond words.

I am afraid to admit that I knew Pavlova as a tooth-pulling, meringue dessert long before I knew she was a ballerina. She died far too young some 20 years before I was born.

After one of Anna Pavlova’s great performances, one of her admirers, who had been moved to tears, asked her what the dance meant.

Pavlova replied simply, but profoundly: “If I could have said it, I wouldn’t have had to dance it.”

Today’s Gospel is about journeying, and those we meet along the way, and understanding what we have learned when we stop for supper.

CS Lewis has always been a great inspiration to me in the intellectual pursuit of God, faith seeking understanding in Anselm’s memorable phrase.

In the year that Anna Pavlova died, 1931, CS Lewis was on a journey with his brother Warnie, travelling pillion on his motorcycle to Whipsnade zoo.

In a now famous passage of his autobiography, Surprised by Joy, Lewis related his final step into real joy, for his intellectual conversion two years earlier had been a miserable affair and he described himself as “the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England.”

This is how he describes the journey that was to change his life:

I know very well when, but hardly how, the final step was taken. I was driven to Whipsnade one sunny morning. When we set out I did not believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and when we reached the zoo I did.

That journey to Whipsnade Zoo was Lewis's Emmaus Road.

Writer Terry Lindvall, in a fascinating article Joy and Sehnsucht: The Laughter and Longings of C.S. Lewis, explains Lewis's conversion like this:

C.S. Lewis was drawn into the kingdom of God by joy - by a taste of this blessed fruit and divine gift. Joy was the divine carrot that persuaded such a self-proclaimed donkey as Lewis to plod down the road toward Jerusalem. It was the soft, disturbing kiss of God that unmade all of Lewis's world. Joy compelled Lewis toward the resurrection laughter of Easter…

Early Christians were called the people of The Way. Even the fact that you have travelled to church today is a symbol that our meeting and understanding of Christ is in travelling as well as arriving.

For Christ is not only the destination, but he is the Way, the journey and our travelling companion helping us to understand all that has happened to us along the winding path of our life.

And sometimes, when we come to this supper; this breaking of bread; this opening of our eyes; this mass; we look back on the ups and the downs of our life journey so far, and although we did not recognise the presence of Jesus with us at the time perhaps, we can now reflect with those early disciples:

“Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road?” Luke 24.32

True Righteousness - Anger

True Righteousness - Anger

Psalm 137; Matt 5.17-21
Lunchtime series on Psalms, King's College London

This is a sermon that didn’t quite go the way I expected. When I chose Psalm 137 I was going to elaborate on platitudes like ‘it’s alright to get angry with God’; and ‘bashing babies against rocks is wrong!’ And maybe give my own rendition of Boney M’s “By the waters of Babylon…” But then I thought, ‘you know all that’.

So that set me thinking about righteous anger, and that led me eventually to laughter. So let’s set out with a good Gospel text and see where it takes us in exploring raw emotions, which is what this series on the Psalms is about.

“Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matt 5.20

And from my holiday reading, Euphemia MacFarrigle & the Laughing Virgin (Christopher Whyte, Indigo,1995 p144 - a refreshing and scandalously funny book especially for those who feel the Church has messed up their life):

“Her old beliefs and way of praying were obsolete, and she was uncertain whether this new force was an emanation of the devil or whether a saner, more mischievous and playful deity had entered her life.”

“the devil... or a saner, more mischievous and playful deity”

When you reflect on the straightforward reading of our Psalm, and don’t try to nicify it, it reveals one of the frightening but commonplace observations about religion: that is, it is sometimes hard to tell whether it is good or bad; whether it reflects the character of the devil or the character of God.

I have been a pastor for too many years not to know that people use Christianity constantly to screw themselves up - or others - or usually both!

And such people are often quite unable to see in the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, “a saner, more mischievous and playful deity.” Indeed, for many of them the very idea is blasphemous. God is austere and demanding, and never laughs. They are the sort who take the swing out of the budgie’s cage on a Sunday.

And those who worship this humourless God, constantly misinterpret the Bible’s call for righteous living.

They listen to the typically Jewish, hyperbolic language of our Lord in the Gospels, and are unable to supply the undercurrent of mirth which is present in all God’s dealings with the pride of man.

In taking themselves too seriously, they fail to take God seriously. I think Jesus might have agreed with Malcolm Muggeridge that: “Next to mystical enlightenment [laughter] is the most precious gift and blessing that comes to us on earth.”

So how does this assertion that the pervading humour in our human condition is a reflection of the playful creativity of God help us to interpret our text today?

“unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

“Righteousness” here in Matthew means faithfulness and obedience to the law of God. Our Lord said as much in the previous verse: “Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments… shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven…” (v19)

The Scribes (some of whom were also Pharisees) were the legal eagles: the solicitors and lawyers who developed the law and practised it in court.

The pharisees, on the other hand, made the law’s demands less demanding and the law’s permissions more permissive. They were casuists. They were spinners. They were like most of us.

And they were not popular with Matthew who probably agreed with the Qumran sect that they were ‘the seekers of smooth things’.

Nonetheless, they still only managed to narrow the Mosaic law down to 248 commandments and 365 prohibitions. And they kept most of them.

So what did Jesus mean when he told his followers that their righteousness was to exceed that of the scribes and pharisees?

That we should add a few extra prohibitions - Number 366: musicians may not slip out for a drink & a ciggy during the sermon… Or that if the Pharisees broke 5 commandments, we should go for a maximum failure rate of say, 4?

If this is what he meant, then what hope is there for any of us? Like the man standing in church staring at the Ten Commandments on the Wall, muttering: “well at least I haven’t coveted my neighbour’s ox…”

Jesus goes on to illustrate what he means by a ‘greater righteousness’ with six antitheses; six contrasts introduced with the formula: “You have heard that it was said… But I say…”

You will be relieved to hear that we are only looking at the first antithesis today.

“You have heard it said - thou shalt not kill (better - commit murder)…”

Now there’s a box we can probably all tick.

“But I say… Do not be angry with one another without cause”

This is not just getting angry. Our Lord became angry at times. Like the psalmist weeping in Babylon, we know that’s ok. This is that anger that stems from pride and malice, selfishness and spite, frustration, revenge and jealousy… It’s a killer and destroys families, communities, churches… not to mention the disintegration of the self.

And then there is the matter of insults. “Whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.”

Raca - the commentaries are full of possible translations of this Aramaic word: nitwit, blockhead, numskull, bonehead - I think most of the commentaries are too polite to use the obvious contemporary phrase for a man who thinks with an inappropriate part of his anatomy.

‘Fool’ is from the same root as moron. In fact the pair of words perhaps refer to someone’s intelligence and character. “You’re a stupid scoundrel.”

So may we not call each other names? How dull life would be. And lovers’ tiffs would be so colourless and unsatisfactory.

No. This is name-calling that stems from arrogant sneering. This is verbal abuse that wounds the soul. This is linguistic sadism. It corrupts both speaker and hearer. This is sarcasm – from the Greek sarx, flesh; the rending of the flesh.

So what is this righteousness that outdoes the pharisees?

It is a deeper obedience of mind and motive with a constant undercurrent of self-mockery, to save us from the deadly pride. It is honest about feelings, like the psalmist, but with a more Christ like understanding of ourselves.

It is not the abolition of the law. The Mosaic law informs many of our decisions and legal codes and is still the well-spring of our ethical choices. But in Christ’s fulfilment of that law, and with the help of his promised Holy Spirit, we enter more deeply into the loving heart of God and of his laws. And he enters more deeply into us to bring healing and wholeness.

We see that the way we live in a world still torn and disfigured with evil, is important. And it must be Christ like, especially in our relations with one another.

The Psalmist is right to express his anger and grief to God about the brutal Babylonians who had subjected his people. But as a stand-alone Psalm, he was wrong in proposing a solution that simply continues the cycle of violence.

The true righteousness which our Lord calls us to, is a deep inner orientation to love God and neighbour and not to treat enemies as they have treated us.

Like the Psalmist, we will sometimes get it wrong in the heat of the moment.

But as we reflect in God’s presence, as the Psalmist often does, for instance in Psalm 73: “When my soul was embittered... I was stupid and ignorant; I was like a brute beast towards you.” (vv 21f) - when we reflect on our outburst of anger, we see it requires a deep inner humility which is fuelled, in all the greatest saints, by the gift of self-mockery and laughter.

Let me end with a creation poem by Paul Bunday:

In the beginning… God laughed
And the earth was glad.
The sound of laughter
Was like the swaying and swinging of thunder in mirth;
Like the rush of the north on a drowsy and dozing land;
It was cold. It was clear.
The lion leapt down
At the bleating feet of the frightened lamb and smiled;
And the viper was tamed by the thrill of the earth,
At the holy laughter.
We laughed, for the Lord was laughing with us in the evening;
For the laughter of love went pealing into the night;
And it was good.

True Myth, Easter Vigil 2006

True Myth Easter Day

“Happy are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.” John 20.29

Two priests decide to go to Hawaii on holiday. They’re determined to make this a real holiday by not wearing anything that would identify them as clergy. As soon as the plane lands, they buy some outrageous shorts, shirts, sandals & sunglasses.

The next morning sitting on the beach, enjoying a drink, a gorgeous blond in an imaginative bikini walks by. She smiles at them and says, "Good morning, Father, Good morning, Father."

They were both stunned. How in the world could she have known?

The next day, they bought even more outrageous outfits - so loud, you could hear them before you saw them. Well after a while, the same gorgeous blonde walks along the beach, turning heads as she passes.

As she approaches the two of them she nods and says "Good morning, Father, Good morning, Father."

Astonished one of the priests shouts out “How do you know we’re priests?”

The blonde turns with a puzzled look and says, "Father, it's me, Sister Monica!"

In the Middle Ages the priest would start the Easter sermon with all manner of ribaldry in order to elicit the Risus Paschalis - the Easter Laughter - from the faithful. Not a practice I would dream of resurrecting!

The media always have a field day at Easter, coming up with the latest harebrained theories about Jesus, or this year, Judas. The Da Vinci Code (which is a good read) shows how gullible many people are. Most surveys show that most people in Britain believe in the historical Jesus.

But then that isn’t the million dollar question, which today confronts us with.
Here’s the Big Question. And it is of course multiple choice. You may tick either A or B.

A: Is the idea of a God who became a human being, who died and rose again, a myth which nurtures the ‘Christ within us’; which releases the power of that myth at the heart of our own consciousness; an ancient by-product of human self-awareness?

OR

B: Is there a reality which is beyond the cosmos, the First Cause of the cosmos, a Being who is the Ground of our Being; a transcendent God revealed in the man Christ Jesus who rose from the dead?

If you ticked A, then the Easter story ends in the darkness of Good Friday. The existentialists were right when like Sartre they asserted, “There is darkness without and when I die there will be darkness within.” All the other high-flown talk about the power of myth is whistling in the dark. Although of course priests like Don Cupitt and the Sea of Faith group, the so-called non-realists, would deny this. They somehow find hope for living in this myth tradition; this psychological self-trickery.

And if you ticked B when in fact A is correct, then as St Paul puts it, you of all men are most to be pitied. For you have lived your life for a lie. You have supposed there is ultimate meaning when there is none.

Life is a Cabaret if you’re lucky, and a Nightmare on Elm Street if you’re not.

But wait a minute, we’re Anglicans. We don’t do ‘tick one box only’. We tick both and keep our options open!

But by ticking both boxes, we are making a profoundly Christian statement. The Answer to the Big Question is A because of B.

In other words: Yes we see the dying and rising myth enacted everywhere around us, and it has deep resonances within our psyche. Christ is within us, and the image of God is implanted within every human. And the self-awareness of most humans for most of the last 10,000 years has been caught up with god-awareness.

And this is not surprising, for there is a God who is out there, beyond space and time, who has seeded us with longings of immortality. He is there and he is not silent. He woos us to faith by his wounds of love.

Let’s bring it back to the events we celebrate this Easter Eve.

Of course I believe in the Death & Resurrection of Jesus both theologically and historically; and I have experienced that new-life-through-death which the Spirit works in me personally. I would not dare stand here unless, having not seen, yet, I have believed.

And yet… at a very deep level I cannot conceive a dead Man resurrected to a new and supranatural state of being. It is alien to all I experience in my everyday world of life and stay-dead death. It relates more to the powerful imagery of legend, saga and myth, whether The Iliad or Narnia.

But if it is just myth, A and not B, then I take no comfort from it. For that would be to deceive myself and others. I want no fairy story to sweeten the bitter pill of life, and more to the point, of death.

Having not seen, I am drawn by the authenticity of Christ and his people, to believe.

That great student of myth, CS Lewis, puts it well:

“The heart of Christianity is a myth which is also a fact.” (1979:43) Mythology is full of dying and rising gods. But in Christianity, “we pass from a Balder or an Osiris, dying nobody knows when or where, to an historical Person crucified under Pontius Pilate…” (Eng ed of God in the Dock, Collins, 1979:44)

We are indeed people of the Empty Tomb, and yet we must not rob the Death, Resurrection and Ascension of Christ, of the mystery and potency of myth. Or as Lewis says: “We must not be ashamed of the mythical radiance resting on our theology.” (1979:44/5 ‘Myth Became Fact’ is in Undeception and also in God in the Dock, Eng & US eds)

“…the mythical radiance resting on our theology…”

Today we celebrate the cornerstone of our faith. Christ is Risen, and because he is risen, because I choose to believe that he is risen, then I encounter True Myth. The Holy Spirit gives me a hope that I cannot explain, but which has been at the heart of Christian experience through the centuries.

I spoke to an elderly lady this week who had just come out of hospital in Shoreham- by-Sea: Southlands Hospital, a dilapidated, run-down old 30’s building, that was due to be rebuilt after the war.

She had been close to death at one point, and a bright young doctor had asked her, if she lapsed into unconsciousness, whether she wanted to be revived?

“I ask you” Elsie said, “I’m at the gates of Paradise and they ask me if I’d like to come back to Southlands!”

This is the Resurrection faith of the people of God.

This is the hope of the Risus Paschalis, the laughter of Easter that carries us through this vale of tears and on to join the laughter of heaven.

My last Vicar, Bill Scott, has a beautiful illuminated manuscript of this piece of prose by Paul Bunday:

In the beginning… God laughed
And the earth was glad.
The sound of laughter
Was like the swaying and swinging of thunder in mirth;
Like the rush of the north on a drowsy and dozing land;
It was cold. It was clear.
The lion leapt down
At the bleating feet of the frightened lamb and smiled;
And the viper was tamed by the thrill of the earth,
At the holy laughter.
We laughed, for the Lord was laughing with us in the evening;
For the laughter of love went pealing into the night;
And it was good.

“Happy are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.” John 20.29

True Righteousness

True Righteousness

From today’s Gospel: “except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.” Matt 5.20

And from my holiday reading, Euphemia MacFarrigle & the Laughing Virgin (Christopher Whyte, Indigo,1995 p144 - a refreshing and scandalously funny book especially for those who feel the Church has messed up their life):

Her old beliefs and way of praying were obsolete, and she was uncertain whether this new force was an emanation of the devil or whether a saner, more mischievous and playful deity had entered her life.

“the devil... or a saner, more mischievous and playful deity”

One of the frightening but commonplace observations about religion, is that it is sometimes hard to tell whether it is good or bad; whether it reflects the character of the devil or the character of God.

I have been a pastor for too many years not to know that people use Christianity constantly to screw themselves up - or others - or usually both!

And such people are usually quite unable to see in the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, “a saner, more mischievous and playful deity.“ Indeed, for many of them the very idea is blasphemous. God is austere and demanding, and never laughs. They are the sort who take the swing out of the budgie’s cage on a Sunday.

And those who worship this humourless God, constantly misinterpret the Bible’s call for righteous living.

They listen to the typically Jewish, hyperbolic language of our Lord in the Gospels, and are unable to supply the undercurrent of mirth which is present in all God’s dealings with the pride of man.

In taking themselves too seriously, they fail to take God seriously.

I think Jesus might have agreed with Malcolm Muggeridge that: “Next to mystical enlightenment [laughter] is the most precious gift and blessing that comes to us on earth.”

So how does this assertion that the pervading humour in our human condition is a reflection of the playful creativity of God help us to interpret our text today?

“except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.”

“Righteousness” here in Matthew means faithfulness and obedience to the law of God. Our Lord said as much in the previous verse: “Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments… shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven…” (v19)

The Scribes (some of whom were also Pharisees) were the legal eagles: the solicitors and lawyers who developed the law and practised it in court.

The pharisees, on the other hand, made the law’s demands less demanding and the law’s permissions more permissive. They were casuists. They were spinners. They were like most of us. And they were not popular with Matthew who probably agreed with the Qumran sect that they were ‘the seekers of smooth things’.

Nonetheless, they still only managed to narrow the Mosaic law down to 248 commandments and 365 prohibitions. And they kept most of them.

So what did Jesus mean when he told his followers that their righteousness was to exceed that of the scribes and pharisees? That we should add a few extra prohibitions - Number 366: musicians may not slip out for a drink & a ciggy during the sermon… Or that if the Pharisees broke 5 commandments, we should go for a maximum failure rate of say, 4?

If this is what he meant, then what hope is there for any of us? Like the man standing in church looking at the Ten Commandments on the Wall, we should have to mutter: “well at least I haven’t coveted my neighbour’s ox…”

Jesus goes on to illustrate what he means by a ‘greater righteousness’ with six antitheses; six contrasts introduced with the formula: “You have heard that it was said… But I say…”

You will be relieved to hear that we are only looking at the first antithesis illustrated in four ways by today’s Gospel.

“You have heard it said - thou shalt not kill (better - commit murder)…”

Now there’s a box we can probably all tick.
“But I say… Do not be angry with one another without cause”

This is not just getting angry. Our Lord became angry at times. This is that anger that stems from pride and malice, selfishness and spite, frustration, revenge and jealousy… It’s a killer and destroys families, communities, churches… not to mention the disintegration of the self.

And then there is the matter of insults: “Whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire.”

Raca - the commentaries are full of possible translations of this Aramaic word: nitwit, blockhead, numskull, bonehead - I think most of the commentaries are too polite to use the obvious contemporary phrase for a man who thinks with an inappropriate part of his anatomy.

‘Fool’ is from the same root as moron. In fact the pair of words perhaps refer to someone’s intelligence and character. “You’re a stupid scoundrel.”

So may we not call each other names? How dull life would be. And lovers’ tiffs would be so colourless and unsatisfactory.

No. This is name-calling that stems from arrogant sneering. This is verbal abuse that wounds the soul. This is linguistic sadism. It corrupts both speaker and hearer.

Our Lord goes on to give two other illustrations about living peacably with one another in the family of God; and about living sensibly and charitably with one another in the wider community.

So what is this obedience that outdoes the pharisees?

It is a deeper obedience of mind and motive with a constant undercurrent of self-mockery, to save us from the deadly pride.

This is what Jeremiah pointed to as the Law of God written on our hearts. Like the little boy who kept standing up on his seat in the restaurant despite his father’s insistence that he ‘sit down!’. Eventually the father physically forces him to sit down and the child petulantly declares - “I may be sitting down on the outside, but I’m still standing up on the inside!”

The business of holiness is learning to sit down on the inside. It is not the abolition of the law. The Mosaic law informs many of our decisions and legal codes and is still the well-spring of our ethical choices. But in Christ’s fulfilment of that law, and with the help of his promised Holy Spirit, we enter more deeply into the loving heart of God and of his laws. And he enters more deeply into us to bring healing and wholeness.

We see that the way we live in a world still torn and disfigured with evil, is important. And it must be Christlike, especially in our relations with one another.

The true righteousness which our Lord calls us to, is a deep inner orientation to love God and neighbour; and knowing that even then, in our human frailty, we will sometimes get it wrong, it requires a deep inner humility which is fuelled, in all the greatest saints, by the gift of laughter.

Let me end with a creation poem by Paul Bunday.

In the beginning… God laughed
And the earth was glad.
The sound of laughter
Was like the swaying and swinging of thunder in mirth;
Like the rush of the north on a drowsy and dozing land;
It was cold. It was clear.
The lion leapt down
At the bleating feet of the frightened lamb and smiled;
And the viper was tamed by the thrill of the earth,
At the holy laughter.
We laughed, for the Lord was laughing with us in the evening;
For the laughter of love went pealing into the night;
And it was good.

“except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven.” Matt 5.20