Sermon for 2004 October 3, St Mary Magdalen, Sheet

Bible readings: Nehemiah 5:1-13, John 19

"Well [laughs] I don't know since I'm not a medical expert. But it's with a local anaesthetic apparently - anyway it fixes it which is the main thing."

That was our Prime Minister speaking on Thursday evening. Now any successful politician is by definition astute, but there was an almost endearing naïveté about that quote from him, and I couldn’t help noticing the link between what he said and the words of the blind man in this evening’s long reading from John, "One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see".

It’s our Harvest Festival today, one of my favourite days in the church year, one of the richest in colour and scent and meaning, some wonderful songs, a glorious celebration of mellow fruitfulness. It’s a time when our thoughts turn to the countryside, those of us who are town dwellers. The smell of apples, the sight of sheaves of corn, these things never fail to recall a simpler time, the romantic idyll of a hard-working but somehow less stressful way of life. But somehow those days are over. Life has become complicated. Technology which is supposed to help has ended up stressing us out. How many people even 20 years ago fretted about computer viruses infecting their home network, or worried about whether the school bullies would be photographing their own violence on their mobile phones and e-mailing it to their friends, or even wondered how many thousand miles away the rail enquiries lady was?

These new stresses somehow seem to be associated with the city, the fast pace, the crowds, naked ambition and greed. Yet of course we know that all is not well down on the farm either; the farmers and workers who bring us our food have a high rate of depression and suicide. Perhaps it would be better if they did actually bring us our food, but of course we want it cheaper and all year round, so we have set up the most elaborate networks of transport and processing, factory farming, food chemistry, imports, animal trafficking, and our connection with the land gets cut. So it’s not as simple as "town and country". But there is a conflict between the ideal of a simple life and the incredibly elaborate web of communication and dependence and travel and technology we have built human society upon. Between traditional village life and the global village, if you like.

Now I’m as built into the complex global web as anyone, but am I getting old or is life just getting more complicated? Please don’t answer that! But sometimes don’t you just want cut the c**p and get back to basics, summer and winter, day and night, seedtime and harvest?

There is something of this dichotomy in both our readings tonight. Nehemiah and Ezra were living at a time of rebuilding, at a time when the upper foundations of what we now call Judaism were being laid, a time when the complex interpretation of the law was being put together, something which a few hundred years later would get itself tied up in knots, thanks to the scribes and Pharisees, and which needed Jesus to cut the thread and sort it all out. But in our reading there’s a kind of interlude in the rebuilding. Nehemiah has seen that a great injustice is being committed. One group of people returning from exile is exploiting another, lending money and food at extortionate rates of interest, even subjecting them to slavery. Nehemiah is actually caught up in this himself – "he can’t talk" we might say – he admits to having done some of this. But after he ponders the matter, he decides enough is enough, he cuts through all the possible objections and says Stop! Give it all back. Put things right. Cancel the debts. Don’t let it get worse. Don’t make life so complicated for yourselves. Don’t worry about what you might lose by treating your brothers and sisters right. Simply do it! And promise you won’t set up an unfair system like that again!

And then that fantastic story from John. Jesus heals a blind man, makes him see. So everyone is amazed and delighted? Well no, his neighbours start arguing about it, then the Pharisees get involved and they as good as put the poor chap on trial, or put Jesus on trial through him, and once again they get themselves hopelessly tied up in knots. Jesus is the light of the world, yet in this story he almost takes second place to the blind man who sets us such a wonderful example. In the middle of all the argy-bargy, the increasingly ridiculous arguing and mistrust, even going to his parents who say "excuse me, but he is old enough to speak for himself" – in the middle of all this he stands exasperated and says "Whether he is a sinner or not, I don’t know. One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!" And still they question him and get all uppity, so he says this – and this is priceless – "Now that is remarkable – you don’t know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes!" Of course it’s the Pharisees who are blind – they can’t see the wood from the trees. Actually, it’s worse than that, they claim they can see, and they should have seen just how wrong they were.

What a wonderful contrast between those cynics, who want everything explained and who are setting out to trip up a good man because he doesn’t fit their model, and the simple testimony of this blind man, which just so simply, even naively, cuts through everything!

What of us? Whatever we hanker after, we are now caught up in this complex, intertwined world. The simple ways of our rural past are left behind. But does that mean we have to buy in to the system of injustice and exploitation? Or can we be like Nehemiah and take a courageous step to put something right when an injustice is being done? The sceptic would have said it was ridiculous what he was trying to do, yet he did it anyway in the power of the spirit. Our social structure has become complex and legalistic, individualistic and cynical. But when someone – when we – experience God’s healing power, do we have to crowd in with questions, do we have to put ourselves on trial? Or can we be like that blind man and say, I don’t understand everything about how this world works – I just know that I have been touched by the power of God?

Going back to the harvest for a moment, in this age when we don’t always know where our next meal is coming from (ironic phrase), we still have permission to say to God, Thank you for keeping your promise to us, for the goodness of the land. This is a freedom God has given us in a convoluted world, to have a simple faith and to give a simple testimony. Our humble, thankful hearts.

When Jesus suffered and died and rose again, how ridiculous to expect that anyone would untangle themselves from their own situations and place a simple childlike trust in his saving grace? And yet hundreds of millions of people have been moved to do just that. It’s our privilege. Through that nakedly simple and yet most profound act of love, God is (as it were) giving us permission to cut right through all the choking threads and simply say "I don’t know all the answers, but one thing I know, I was blind but now I see. God wants to love and heal you too." Is this blind faith? Er, I don’t think so!

Heavenly Father, we thank you for your goodness to us. We thank you that you didn’t worry about all the consequences before loving us. Help us in the complexity of our lives to be as wise as serpents and as innocent as doves, to speak with your wisdom and to respond innocently and with childlike trust to you Lord; you keep your promises and for this we praise and thank you again.