Sermon for 2003 October 5, Evensong, St Mary Magdalen, Sheet

Bible readings: Joshua 3:7-17, Matthew 10:1-22

[Visual (and audible!) aid: an old-fashioned alarm clock bell]

A wake-up call. If I could have £1 for every time the phrase "wake-up call" had appeared in the news in, say, the last 25 years, I would be a very rich man. September 11, 2001 was of course a terrible, devastating wake-up call, a warning about the vulnerability of our civilization. More recently we have had power blackouts in the USA, in Italy, even in London, reminding us how fragile our reliance on technology is. And then there was Chernobyl, Three Mile Island, Bhopal, the Torrey Canyon, Exxon Valdiz and [the more recent oil spill off Galicia]. And many smaller events; it seems nothing happens that isn’t a wake-up call to someone.

The floods in the South of England, remember them? Remember how long Farringdon was under water, how long the road between Harting and Lavant was cut off? Ah, now there’s a good example of how our alarm clock has the snooze setting switched on. Because after the glorious summer we had, it’s easy to forget, isn’t it? But the truth doesn’t go away. The reality of global warming, of deforestation, of finite energy resources, of world hunger, of contaminated water supplies, of whole continents waiting in the wings to consume and to throw away as much as we do, they are all with us. What we have sown we shall reap.

And we might rightly ask where God is in all this? Why does he allow us to make such a mess of things? A big question. So how about a smaller question – say a $64 one – what has all this to do with today’s readings and with today’s Harvest Festival? There is a theme, or a phrase, that runs through them all: Occupying the land. Joshua is about to enter the Promised Land with his people after forty years in the wilderness, and in the Lord’s name he is to have driven out for him the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Hivites, the Perizzites, the Girgashites, the Amorites and the Jebusites. Now I find myself wishing that that hadn’t happened, that the Israelites had somehow managed to live in harmony with these peoples, and maybe the Middle East would even now be a gentler place. God moves in a mysterious way, and all I can say for now on that big subject is that (a) this happened as part of a very big plan for all mankind, and that (b) God’s raw material was imperfect, unredeemed, jealous people, quick to anger – ordinary people in fact!

Occupying the land. In our gospel reading, Jesus sends out his disciples to re-occupy the land in a very different way – but remember it’s all part of the same plan. They are to go simply equipped, with the task of preaching and healing, they were to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves, and they were to be ready for hospitality and for persecution. And what they started continues to this day as the Gospel of peace is preached across the world – occupying the land with the love of our Lord Jesus. You might remember a couple of months ago we took our own walk out of the church and thought about what Jesus’ commission might be for us.

And what of the harvest? We had, long ago, another commission and another promise. We were told to fill the earth and subdue it, to have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth. We were given every plant yielding seed and every tree with seed in its fruit, for food. And, after a bit of rain (God’s ultimate wake-up call, you could say) we were promised under the sign of the rainbow that while the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease. We’ve been given everything, all the ingredients, we’ve been given what it takes. But somehow the human endeavour to occupy the land keeps falling flat on its face. Why? Why did one promised land become a war zone? Why did another promised land in the west become the 4% of the world that produces a quarter of all the carbon emissions? (I’m not saying that complacently because we’re not so far behind). When you contrast the God-given potential and the reality, our need for redemption stares us in the face. And praise God, through Jesus we are redeemed!

It would be nice to stop there. Praise God, we’re OK. And there is a strand of Christianity which does stop there. Which claims the promises but does nothing about the duty. Which says, we do not need to concern ourselves about the state of the world, we have souls to save, our battle is "only spiritual". I’m sorry, but our first commission was one of stewardship, our second is to preach the Gospel, and the two cannot be separated.

So how, as redeemed people, can we do anything about our first duty, out stewardship, our occupation, of the land? Just trying to be a little more practical, here are four simple pointers:

The first celebrates its birthday today. An attitude of gratitude. It does help if every day we remember to be grateful for this abundance we have, from blackberries on the hedgerow to baguettes in the bakery, from those huge marrows in the garden to Merlot in the bottles. Now unfortunately plain, simple gratitude isn’t cool – if you doubt this, look at children; I think this has always been true, but if one of my children spontaneously expresses gratitude, I immediately worry they might be coming down with something! To say thank you is (a) not hard and (b) is an essential way to start thinking about any problems and how to put things right.

The second pointer is to be informed. To be wise as serpents, if you like. A big problem with our urbanised culture, even here in our farmers’ market town, is that many of us are removed from the land and from knowledge of what grows in our fields. But (a) it does no harm to learn and (b) the resources are there, in many ways better than they have been for a long time, for us to learn. It doesn’t automatically make us better consumers to know the true cost of our choices, but it can help. For example, it may not save the world for me to know that all my oh-so honourable act of cycling to work every day could be undone in air pollution terms by booking one seat on a single transatlantic flight, but it might start to have an effect on my decisions.

The third is to be dissatisfied, permanently unhappy with the way we have organized things. To be prepared always to go further in our stewardship. It stems right out of being grateful and from being informed. Jesus said, You received without paying – give without pay. This comes home to me. It’s not enough to think that I’m green because of the cycling (and the beard which saves electricity and razor blades, and the sandals which save leather). My house is about as well insulated as the electrical appliances in a Parisian hotel, and I do love my daily bath. There is always more we could do, and there is no room for any complacency in our attempts to be good stewards. For example, one secular prophet recently calculated our energy quota – what we in the west could be allowed to consume and have a sustainable impact on the world. It is frightnening. An average year’s motoring alone would use up the quota of four people. We are so far away from meeting our duty.

But the fourth is almost the opposite – it’s to beware of the feeling that there is nothing we can do, the problem is too big, and that anyway we’re hypocrites because we enjoy our place in an unequal and unsustainable world order. Here is where I would say we should be as innocent as doves, and to rejoice that God will always honour what we do in his name. It won’t be enough if as a church we make sure we trade fairly, but God will honour that decision. It won’t be enough if we buy a little more fruit when it’s in season here and a little less when it’s not, but it is a start. It won’t be enough to walk that extra mile, but it will be one mile. We are saved, we are redeemed. Our sins and shortcomings will be forgiven and every good decision we make, maybe against our own comfort and convenience, will put a smile on the face of our creator.

So there we are. This harvest time, let us remember our commission to occupy the land for God and to look after the land for God. Let us be grateful, wise, restless and innocent in our desire to bring him the honour he deserves.

Lord of the harvest, we offer you our humble, thankful hearts. Teach us, admonish us, and encourage us in the power of your Spirit to pass on to our children a world fit for the preaching of your gospel of love and salvation. Amen.

Prayer:

May God the Father, who created us, fill our hearts with thankfulness for all his goodness.
May God the Son, who redeemed us, make us worthy to have been called out of darkness into light.
May God the Holy Spirit who gives our spirits the breath of life, fill us with the power and the will to fulfil our calling.

© Mike Knee, 2003