Sermon at the Retired Clergy Eucharist 28-5-09 Ely Cathedral
Acts 22.30, 23.6-11 and John 17.20-end
It is a daunting privilege to preach to you today, amongst a company of clerics that must have preached many tens of thousands sermons itself over perhaps ten thousand accumulated years of service. All the same, despite that substantial total, not even the greyest canon on the back row will I think predate the Anatomy Act of 1832. (I’m just checking …) That was the Act that put ‘resurrection men’, the body snatchers of the Burke and Hare era, out of business by legalising the supply of corpses to the medical profession. But I want to put I to you that you are all called to be in business as Resurrection Men and Women nevertheless, and that neither age nor retirement shall wither that calling.
St Paul told the Sanhedrin that he stood on trial ‘because of my hope in the resurrection of the dead.’ Now this was in part a Cunning Plan, à la Baldric, to set the Pharisees and Sadducees at each others’ throats, as you well know. But it was not just that: it was also the truth. When Paul spoke at Athens the crowd complained that, ‘ “He seems to be advocating foreign gods.” They said this because Paul was preaching the good news about Jesus and the Resurrection,” a strange way of putting it that means that Paul was possibly banging on about the Resurrection so much that they took Anastasis to be the name of a Goddess in her own right.
When the chips were down, Paul was out there preaching because of his hope in the resurrection. That was what he was in business to proclaim. He was a resurrection man.
And my proposition to you is that amidst all the diversity that a company such as this of retired clerics represents – and I have been know to say that organising you is akin to herding cats – the one thing you have in common is the calling, alongside Paul, to be resurrection men and women yourselves, sharing and proclaiming the hope of the resurrection, in word and deed; to be people of hope in this world and for world to come.
Jesus in the high priestly prayer, which was our Gospel reading a moment ago, envisages an amazing chain of hope as this message is passed on. He has just prayed for his disciples, and now prays for those who will believe through them; and the prayer is the same, that they may be
in him,
in unity with each other, and
in the world calling it too to faith in him.
The chain carried on: from apostles to presbyters, bishops to monks, missionaries to ministers, mothers to children, until in the end it reached our homelands, and in the very end reached us. And Jesus’ prayer is still the same. That we too should be in him, in unity with each other, and in the world calling it too to faith him. That we should not be the end of the chain but its beginning again.
This then must be our job as resurrection men and women, priests of the new covenant if you want to put it in posher words: aiding and abetting God’s people at every turn and in every way to be vibrantly alive with the resurrection life in God, vibrantly alive with the resurrection life one with each other in the new community we call the church, and vibrantly alive with the resurrection life in the world sharing God’s love and calling everyone to that same life in him – and so starting again the chain of faith.
How are we to do this? There is no shortage of advice: of the making of books, especially of paperbacks on how to run churches, there is no end. Toppings across the road can sell you a shedful. But the book that really matters is the book which is every one of our own hearts. Even if techniques not to say tricks can help, there will be no long term fruit unless we ourselves are the witnesses to the faith we preach. So how is it with our own life in Christ? How is it with our own belonging in the church? How is it with our own service and witness in the world?
The hard truth is that Christians are not always too good at these things; and professional Christians are not always the best among them; and long-serving professionals not the pack-leaders amongst those. To put it straightforwardly, Grumpy Old Priests are alive and well and living in the Diocese of Ely just like everywhere else. So as at our ordination, so now, if we want to do well in these things it is with God’s help that we will. So shock, horror: the bishop is actually saying to his clergy that it’s time to get to straight again with God; to pay attention to the core of our spirituality.
I don’t want to keep you from your lunch, but perhaps I can offer a word or two about this under each of the three headings, or three dimensions as I sometimes call them, that Jesus prayed about in that high priestly prayer – being in him, in unity with each other, and in the world calling it too to faith; and for ease of memory we can think of them as Up, Round and Out – our calling to vibrant relationship with God, each other and the world around us.
God first – of course. Up, if you like. We certainly never retire from Him, from the calling to say our prayers, read the Scriptures, keep studying, keep listening for His word to us. Our experience of this un-retired spiritual life is very varied. Some settle into a routine; some find words giving way more and more to stillness; others find the words and the whole thing going dry. In fact, being a priest and of a certain age seem to make little difference in the sense that we carry on facing the same spiritual challenges that we will have observed in Jill and Jack over our years of ministry. So who ministers to the ministers? Are there people there who can help? Are they willing? And will you let them? Our retired clergy officers are a considerable asset to us here. If you are up a tree, or high and dry – bend their ear today, or mine if you can’t find theirs: we may not be always able to give you what you want, but we’ll do our level best to give you what you need. One thing you can be sure of: the one who has called you is faithful and he will do it, even if we struggle. He chose you long before you chose him, and he is not about to let you down now; and if you lift your eyes you too may see the glory that was given him before the world began.
Second, the church. Round – because it is about our relationship with each other. The passage of time can do funny things to us here. Look back to when you first started. Those old-timers on the PCC, the ones who found all change difficult and Series 2 impossible, who thought Matins should last for ever but got annoyed if it lasted more than an hour, who complained if the Bishop never came to see them and complained if he did. Well – goodness me, is that a mirror I see over there? It is really, seriously important that when we look in the mirror we see at least the glimmer of a smile. Those bearing the heat of the day in clerical harness now need your support and encouragement, and they are having to oversee change and introduce new ideas that would have made the hair on your grandfathers’ toes curl. You won’t always see the point, you won’t always agree, but please – always help. Be one with each other. All relationships matter in church, but especially the good relationships between the ordained. The key here, I suggest, is to take completely seriously what Jesus says, and Paul says after him, about the church: about how against all the odds and despite all appearances it, it, is God’s mysterious plan to seed his kingdom into the world, to create the new community of reconciliation, resurrection life and hope. And there is a lot to be hopeful about. In the latest years for which we have statistics more people, not fewer, are coming to church, and more under 16’s in our diocese among them. Ordinations have been going up not down. Confirmations too. Our buildings are in better shape than they ever have been, and more money is entrusted to us in parish giving than ever before. The tide of disbelief is turning, and it’s a good time to be an old-timer in the church, with a future to be proud of as well as a past. Go on – smile! You can even (yes, I know it’s a cathedral) cheer. For everything God can still do with his church: hip hip, hooray!
Third, out, into the world. Arthritis may be taking its toll, and the rheumatism is rumbling away. But beware the buggy-racers on our pavements: living longer these days doesn’t mean being locked away. Older age can in fact bring perspective, the time to read and keep up with the news and the wisdom to be able to comment on it, as well as the urge to turn the telly off and have a nice snooze. I might dare as well to say that in the big story of society, the present echelon of retired people are something of a golden generation, with by and large a level of health, wealth and time that those who went before them could only have dreamt of, and which those who come after them may never attain again. It will already have occurred to you that today’s church has spotted this and is using you extensively to keep service rotas going. That’s good. I mustn’t let this opportunity pass without saying a very big thankyou to you all. We couldn’t be the church we are called to be without you. Now that is good – for now. What will be even better would be to use the opportunities you have to bring new generations into the faith and into the church, and not fall into the temptation of keeping things going just long enough to see us out. I can think of few things more beautiful or powerful than an older priest bringing a younger person to faith, and especially than one of you nourishing their vocation to priesthood in their turn. And if we keep connected with the world around us and with those young in the faith who are following us, that might be your story too; a very special moment in the never-ending story of the Gospel.
“Mummy, mummy,” said the young boy, looking up at the plaque on the church wall. “What is that list of names all about?” “Shhh,” she replied, “Those are all the people who died in the services.” … Let’s make sure that our services, all our service, is always life-giving, resurrection-life giving, and then we can in all truth be people of hope for this life and for the life to come.
+David