July 30^th 2006

Christ Church

Morningside

 

Homily by Michael Paterson

 

Some years ago I was asked to speak at a conference of monks and nuns which was considering the training needs of novices at the beginning stages of their religious life.   I felt very inadequate for the task and not at all sure what to say to them nor how to begin.  But nothing could have prepared me for what I found upon my arrival at the convent where the meeting was to take place - for daubed in bright yellow paint in letters about eight inches high was a piece of graffiti which I think I will remember for the rest of my life.  It said:

Your order is meaningless, my chaos is significant

 

Eight short words but what a message.

Your order is meaningless, my chaos is significant

I have no idea who wrote it, nor what they meant by it, far less whether the artist was aware of the irony of the statement.  But it struck me as more than coincidence that such a message should be preached from the wall of a house sheltering a religious community.  And like the melody of a song that you cannot get out of your head, that mind-teasing, gut-churning statement took up permanent residence in my consciousness.  Whether it was the social comment of a local anarchist, or the bitter revenge of Attila the runaway nun, I have no idea – all I know is that it was quite literally, the writing on the wall. And the more I thought about it, and the more I turned it over in my mind, the more it bothered me.

 

Your order is meaningless, my chaos is significant

I mention that this morning because I have been hearing a very similar message from two groups of people who have been coming to Christ Church every day for the last four weeks.  The first is a group of six men in their twenties wearing white wellies and overalls and who work at Hughes the fishmongers across the road.  They come and sit on the steps of the church porch everyday to have their morning break in the sunshine. 

The other is a group of eight men in their 30’s and 40’s who are the assorted joiners, plasterers, electricians, plumbers, painters and fencers who have been working hard to get the curate’s house ready for me to move into this afternoon.  Since I am the official go-for, who dashes back and forward between IKEA, B&Q and Tesco keeping them supplied with kitchen units, Tea and cloudy lemonade I have got to know them quite well and have had many a longish conversation about life, love and the universe with them.   But what has come out as they have grown to trust me is their bewilderment that not only do I go to church but that I am a priest and that I am wasting my life on a religion that is pointless and out of touch with the modern world.

 

And in that view they are not alone.  In many people’s eyes, both young and old, the writing is on the wall for Christianity, and our order, the way we Christians perceive things and especially how we do things seems, if not meaningless, then at least up for grabs.  And yet, in the 24 years of my ministry in parishes, schools and hospitals, in working with young people and as a psychotherapist, I have yet to find anyone who is NOT looking for light, for deeper meaning, for purpose or fulfilment in their lives - the very key questions which lie at the core of religion.  As one drug addict I worked with once said to me:  ‘We are looking for God too, but not in the places where the Churches keep hiding Him and the sooner you Christians take that on board, the better’.

 

This last month chatting with the fishmongers on the church steps and mucking in with the tradesmen next door has made me think again about the relationship between the time I have spent with them Monday to Friday and what we are doing here together on Sunday.  And it has left me more and more convinced that the real challenge to those of us who love the tradition of the church, who have found real meaning in the relationships we have formed with other believers, who find real presence in the breaking of the bread and the sharing of the cup, is actually the very future of Christianity itself.

 

It seems to many who look in from the outside that Christians have traded in the wild creative Spirit that hovers over the chaos, for a slimmed down God who is narrow-minded, petty and housetrained.  And that although God loves and accepts every single person no matter their lifestyle, his followers have introduced innumerable opt out clauses and conditions which justify them not following his lead. 

And so over these last few weeks I have found myself wondering what would happen if instead of swigging Irn Bru on the steps of the porch the fishmongers were to actually cross the threshold of the church building and come inside.  Or if instead of me serving the joiners and builders tea and biscuits next door I was to bring them in here, sit them round this altar table and invite them to share the bread and wine.  

 

‘We are looking for God too, but not in the places where the Churches keep hiding him.’

To the end of time, men and women will go on restlessly yearning for deeper meaning in their lives, searching for ways of ordering the chaos in which they find themselves and looking for experiences that last longer than the immediate buzz of drugs, sex or alcohol.  The lucky will find this in loving relationships, others in yoga or meditation, and others again in nature or music or poetry.

 

But from time to time some will go one step further than the fishmongers and the workmen and slip into this church, daring to hope that the hunger they feel inside might just be satisfied among those who come here to find nourishment in a morsel of bread and a sip of wine.  

 

As today I cross the threshold of the house next door to take up my ministry among you, I commit myself afresh not only to you the insiders who have already found your place at this table but above all to those outside who observe us from the safety of the bus stop, or sit on our steps when we are closed or who stop to admire the flowers in our garden.  Should the day come when they trust us enough to cross the threshold of this church and come inside to see what goes on here, let’s not short change them with an anaemic, mini God that we have tamed nor deny them the passion of Jesus’s vision to overturn the status quo of society and inaugurate a radically different way of life otherwise the writing is indeed on the wall

 

OUR order is meaningless, THEIR chaos is significant.

 

Amen.