Monday, 28 October 2013

Perspectives of St Johns' 4: Dedication Festival




This is the fourth and last of my series of sermons taking different perspectives on St John's Church. Here the perspective is one of time - of 900 years and more with thoughts on what our worship means to us in this context. 
I plan to bring all four talks together in a booklet, but, for those on line, everything is here.
 





1155, 1214, 1267 – what do these dates mean to us? Here are some equally obscure clues: Hugh the Clerk, Guy de Digeneswell, Thomas Watermue, John de Warwyk. These are the dates and names of the first recorded Rectors of Digswell. The church is probably much older than this, predating the formal foundation of the church as a dependency of the Priory of Walden (now Saffron Walden) by Geoffrey de Mandeville, who was one of the most notorious robber barons in the reign of King Stephen.

So for nearly 900 years, and probably longer than this, prayer and worship has been offered to God. If this is striking enough to imagine, then it’s even more remarkable when we realise that the worship we share today has a very similar shape and, who knows, feel to what was offered many centuries ago. In bigger churches (which we have now) the main mass on Sunday may have begun with a procession, just as we did today. And as the priest and his assistants prepared in the sacristy they may have said together:
            Deus cui omni cor patet et omnis voluntas loquitur..
Which is: God to whom all hearts are open, all desires known ..
And said the psalm, which I sometimes do before the Eucharist:
            Introibo ad altare dei ad deum qui letificat iuventutem meam,
I will go to the altar of God, to the God of my joy and gladness.

And that is just the start. Although it has been developed and adorned over many centuries, and reordered and simplified in others, what we do now would be recognisable to someone from the 15th century (like Sir John Perient of our famous brass memorial) just as we in our turn would see familiar signposts in the Latin service of earlier times had we been there.

Over the past month we have been developing different perspectives on St John’s Church and as we celebrate today our Feast of Dedication we bring all of these together – our past, our place in the present community, our own community and our own personal roles. Probably the most important reaction to this is the simple one of wonder at the way in which this place has been kept holy by succeeding generations. Our response to that thought is one of thanks and praise to God. But further, it gives us confidence for the future. What we do together is to maintain and build on a robust foundation, in fact it’s the greatest one within several miles of here (until we get to the next medieval parishes – Welwyn, Hatfield and Datchworth!).

All of this is part of a shared memory which needs to be continually refreshed if it is to maintain its power. Just think, what we are about to do as we continue this Eucharist remembers, represents, brings into the present what Christians have done for two millennia, twice as long as this church has existed. And it all arises from the command of Jesus to his friends round the table with him, ‘Do this in memory of me.’

So how does it all work, what we do in our worship today? What would I explain to my friend from outside the church who we met in the first dialogue? A precise explanation is impossible. That’s why, in the technical language of the church we call it a ‘mystery’. It’s just as impossible as trying to tie God down to one or other definition we may prefer. All we can do is offer and develop images which may help us to feel closer to the reality (which in a more basic meaning implies ‘the thing in itself’).

Memory is only part of what we are doing in this celebration, but it’s an important part, so here’s what I would consider telling my friend. He’s an intelligent person so to begin with I would tell him that we can describe what we are doing as ‘intensified memory’. That’s a bit of a teasing phrase, but I think it is quite a nice one. Many people have some experience of what I am thinking of. For example, many have possessions which bring people, occasions or events into a clear focus. Some would point to pictures of members of the family, others to a wedding ring. I have a set of stoles which my mother made for my ordination 20 years ago including the magnificent festal one which I have chosen to wear today. I’m sure you can think of something of this kind.

Think then of articles which belong in the extended family. At infant baptisms we often see a gown which has been used over several generations, not uncommonly back into the 19th century. Something like that was used in Prince George’s baptism this week. In this way our sense of time can expand – that’s a wonderful human capability – so that we can say that in a similar way worshipping here today is in itself and example of intensified memory.

The best example I have heard of a personal memory of this kind came from an adult participating in a course I was running for admitting children to Holy Communion. He’d sat quietly most of the time we were talking about what happens, but when I asked if anyone had any examples of things that carried an important memory for them he told us about his grandfather’s box. That seemed to me right away to be a very good example, but when he told the story of how it had come to be made it became even better. It turned out that this treasured box was made by the grandfather for his grandson and, even better, that he, the grandson, was with the grandfather as it was made. It’s only a short step from there to saying, as he did, that looking at and handling the box was like being with his grandfather as they made it together. It brought the past back into the present.

This beautiful story gives us some sense of how it may have been that the first Christians, the ones who knew Jesus through his ministry, recognised his presence as they shared in bread and wine. In my definition it was an intensified memory which they passed on to the next generation, a memory which leads on through the centuries and over nearly half of that time through this building directly to us. It’s a direct link with Jesus which brings the church of the past together with the church of the present and Jesus himself.

This is just part of what we share in today and every week. I don’t want to try to define it further, because firstly, as I said, it can’t be done, and secondly because disagreements about attempts to define things more precisely have been the cause of great damage to the church historically, and we still suffer from the consequences.

So on our Feast of Dedication I want to make and repeat a bold assertion. Here in this church we experience a direct link with many previous generations of Christians. They have given us a gift which expresses their faith to us. We can see it all around us and use it as they did. Even more important, we have as they did a direct link through the Eucharist to Christ himself. Can we, can everything we do together, be animated (literally filled with Spirit) so that we can offer to the present and future generations still more? They have already our gift of faith and perseverance, so can we go further? What else might we be able to bequeath to them? What would be their perspective on St John’s then? 

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