Bishop Tom Sermon Easter Morning2010

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Bishop Tom Sermon Easter Morning2010 Powered By Docstoc
					                            Resurrection and Rock’n’Roll
                            Acts 10.34–43; John 20.1–18

       a sermon at the Eucharist on Easter Morning, 11.15 am, April 4 2010

                     by the Bishop of Durham, Dr N. T. Wright




The taxi driver looked back at me in his mirror. His face was a mixture of
amusement and sympathy. We were stuck in traffic and he’d asked me, as they do,
what I did for a living.
   ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘you Church of England people’ (having told me he was a Roman
Catholic himself). ‘You’re still having all that trouble about women bishops, aren’t
you?’
   I had to admit that that was indeed the case.
   ‘The way I look at it,’ he said, ‘is this: if God raised Jesus Christ from the dead,
all the rest is basically rock’n’roll.’
   St Paul put the same point negatively: ‘if Christ is not raised, your faith is futile,
and you are still in your sins.’ But the positive point is this: if Christ has been
raised, then all the rest is, well, sorted out. It’s basically just rock’n’roll. God has
won the decisive victory over the forces of darkness, and he will win the final
victory that results. Everything else can in principle be worked out.
   Hmmm. That little phrase ‘in principle’ leaves a lot to be desired, and indeed to
be debated over. Does the resurrection mean this, or does it mean that? If Jesus is
raised, can we do what we want, or are we called to a new kind of life? If Jesus is
raised, do other questions matter at all? Or do they matter even more because we
now see clearly what God has been up to all along?
   The answer to those questions will vary from case to case. I don’t want today to
get into a long list of ‘implications of the resurrection’, interesting though that
might be. I want to say one thing about the resurrection and God’s kingdom; then
to tell you how the rock’n’roll is going in one particular place; then to say what
that taxi-driver’s statement does not mean.
   There has been so much confusion about what ‘God’s kingdom’ actually means
that I suspect a lot of people simply don’t associate the phrase with the
resurrection, or vice versa. And yet for the four evangelists this connection is very
tight. The whole dynamic of the first three gospels is driven by Jesus’ claim that
the kingdom of God is bursting in upon the world. The climax of the story, which
we reached three days ago, sees Jesus nailed up as ‘King of the Jews’, radically

Easter Day 2010                                                                         1
and ironically redefining what sort of a thing this Kingship really is. Now, on
Easter morning, we are to see this redefined Kingship bursting in for real, coming
on earth as in heaven. Rejection of the bodily resurrection has classically gone with
rejection of God’s kingdom as an earthly, concrete reality. Where Christians have
tried to get to the latter result without the bodily resurrection as the foundation,
they have usually floundered hopelessly – and I mean hopelessly. The last chapter
of each gospel is then reduced to the status of a trivial ‘happy ending’, and worse,
as though God got Jesus out of trouble even though he doesn’t do it for anyone
else. That is exactly wrong: the resurrection of Jesus means that what God has
done for Jesus he is beginning to do, in and through Jesus, for the whole of the rest
of the world. And that is what it means to say that God is now becoming king of
the whole world in the new way of which Jesus had spoken. John’s gospel, whose
matchless twentieth chapter we heard a moment ago, is soaked in the idea of new
creation, as Mary in the garden becomes for a moment Eve, weeping for her lost
innocence and her lost Lord, and then discovering that the one she thinks is the
gardener really is the gardener, the one through whose healing stewardship the
whole creation will be dug afresh and planted with the Tree of Life. The
resurrection of Jesus is the coming of the kingdom of God.
   But that lays us open, of course, to the oldest charge of all, going back to the
ministry of Jesus himself: if God is really becoming king, why are so many things
still wrong with the world? Jesus spent half his ministry struggling to answer that
question – struggling, not because he didn’t understand it but because his hearers’
minds were so dull; but, because we read the gospels with the wrong perspectives
in our minds, we don’t realise it. The way God becomes king is precisely through
sowing seeds, not through bulldozing everything down and planting ready-formed
trees and shrubs. The way God becomes king is through the transformation of
persons and communities who then become transforming persons and communities
in their own right. I have been privileged to watch this happening this last week as
I have worked in and with the Parish Church in Stockton-on-Tees. I have been into
schools and watched as children from African backgrounds gave good, clear
answers to questions about Jesus, teaching their English contemporaries a thing or
two in the process. I have discussed the question of God and God’s kingdom with
serious offenders in the local prison, and watched how the volunteers – ordinary
Christian men and women who will never hit any headlines – have become the
trusted companions and guides of those broken and puzzled men. I have seen
young Christian people with plenty of energy and even more humour working on
one of the roughest estates, and in a special centre for girls who have found their
way on to the street, and I’ve watched as their loyalty and love bears fruit in
changed lives and changed life-patterns. I have tramped the streets late at night
with the Town Pastors, more volunteers from various churches, as they make

Easter Day 2010                                                                     2
themselves available to the confused and vulnerable younger generation. And I
have knelt in the market at midday to pray, again with other volunteers, for people
in need of healing and hope. And all this has grown out of, and has flowed back
into, the regular worship and prayer in a church where there are more ethnic groups
and language groups, many of them through the ready welcome and help given to
asylum seekers, than (I would guess) any other church in the diocese. A church
which feels like a family, with the very old and the very young and all in between
mixing and muddling together and making it happen. And these things are making
a real difference in the community. The crime rate has gone down dramatically
over the last little while. The police and other community workers know that the
church is there for them and with them. They are showing in action what it means
to say that the risen Jesus is Lord of Stockton-on-Tees, that that great town with its
long and proud history is part of God’s kingdom. God is in charge there, exercising
his healing rule through the prayer and kindness and generosity and witness of
ordinary down-to-earth Christians. I suspect this is how the church has always
grown. This is the kind of rock’n’roll that follows naturally when people take
seriously the fact that God raised Jesus Christ from the dead.
   What it doesn’t mean, of course, is that ‘anything goes’, that there are no
boundaries, no standards, no codes of behaviour. This is where, of course, saying
that the resurrection is the be-all and end-all of everything, though true, doesn’t
automatically settle all other questions. They have to be sorted out – in the light of
the resurrection. The church is indeed facing a host of puzzles, from women
bishops to the current scandals which the Press love to chew over in the best
journalistic traditions of salivating pseudo-moralism. Just because there is a strong
case to be made, in my view, for ordaining women to the episcopate, we should not
be doing it just because the media tell us to. Just because it is now clear that the
Roman Catholic church followed disastrous and reprehensible policies in relation
to sex offenders within its own ranks, we should not be wallowing in it in the
smug, snide, told-you-so tones of journalists who, having themselves long given up
any pretence of Christian morality, love nothing better than pointing the finger at
the teachers they once feared. Nor should we be bounced, through the half-truths of
media comment, into concluding that all the church’s other teachings on related
topics are fatally flawed and should be revised to fit with current secular morality.
This is not the way, and the Press are not the people to teach us. Think back to
those good news stories from Stockton and many other similar places. The national
Press, of course, ignore all that, in order to return, like a sow, to where good mud is
still to be found.
   Rather, we should start once more from the resurrection of Jesus himself, and
discover just what key the rock’n’roll is best played in. The key, to say it again, is
new creation: the new creation in which the little ones are put first, as we shall be

Easter Day 2010                                                                      3
celebrating the baptism of Isabella Grace in a few minutes; the new creation in
which a woman is the first to bear the news of resurrection; the new creation in
which the original male-plus-female pattern of the original creation is gloriously
reaffirmed; the new creation in which sin can be faced, repented of and forgiven,
rather than covered up or excused, because we know it was dealt with on the cross
and we have therefore nothing left to prove. The resurrection points the way to a
new sort of life, a new way of life, a way which is neither the brittle
pseudo-correctness of a church out of touch with the people, nor the cloying
pseudo-righteousness of a pontificating press, but the humble yet clear testimony
that though we are foolish and ignorant, God is all wise and all knowing; that
though we get it badly wrong, when we face up and say ‘Sorry’ God forgives us
because of the cross of Jesus Christ and shows us how to live out the implications
of that costly forgiveness; that though death, corruption and deceit appear to have
the last word, God raised Jesus Christ from the dead.
   After all: if it is true that some people in some places have indeed lost
confidence in the church – and, though the Archbishop yesterday apologised for
saying it, it may well be at least partly true – that may in the last analysis be a good
thing. Sometimes the church, our church as much as any, has encouraged people to
have confidence in it rather than in the God who calls it into being, in the followers
of Jesus rather than in Jesus himself, as though one could have faith in faith. Put
not your trust in princes, nor indeed in prelates, nor in any human being or
organisation. When Jesus said ‘on this rock I will build my church’, nobody before
the Council of Trent thought he was referring to Peter and his successors. Jesus
himself is the rock. And we, his followers, need to learn to roll with the punches
which come our way, so that we can humbly and cheerfully preach not ourselves
but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for his sake. Don’t be
blown off course. These catastrophes happen, partly because we deserve them but
also, partly, because God’s kingdom is going forward, and we are in a battle zone.
That doesn’t mean that the attacks on the church are undeserved, or that we are
ourselves victims (the claiming of ‘victim’ status is another thing we should simply
eschew; this is no way to conduct serious moral debate). Rather, it means that we
should expect attacks, whether fair or foul; that when we are to blame we should
put our hands up and say so – after all, whoever supposed we would never make
mistakes? – that we should walk in the light with transparent responsibility, which
(by the way) is not the same thing as ticking the thousand boxes required by yet
another piece of nanny-state legislation; and that we should celebrate the new
creation in which sins are brought to light in order to be dealt with, new starts are
possible, healing is real and available, and God is becoming king in
Stockton-on-Tees, in Durham, in, please God, Ireland, in the Anglican
Communion, in the Middle East, in the whole world, and in and through our own

Easter Day 2010                                                                        4
hearts and lives. God has raised Jesus Christ from the dead. Let’s get on with the
party.




Easter Day 2010                                                                      5

				
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