A sermon preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields on September 13, 2023 by Revd Dr Sam Wells

Bread for the World

Reading for address: Luke 2

My task tonight is to place Richard’s book Letters from Nazareth in theological perspective. I want to talk about four locations in which the gospel narrative takes place: Bethlehem, Nazareth, Galilee and Jerusalem. Let’s start with Bethlehem.

Bethlehem occupies a multifaced role in the gospel story. It’s the town of David, which locates Jesus as coming from David’s line, an important way of giving him authority as arguably qualified by lineage to be Israel’s legitimate king, for those for whom that kind of messiahship was important. It’s got a nice balance of obscurity and significance. Then as now, it’s a contested, troubled, sometimes violent place, with King Herod insecure and unpredictable, the Romans lurking behind him, and Zealots looking for the chance to pounce. Bethlehem is where the shepherds came to worship the newborn king, where the magi came to bring gifts, where Herod slaughtered the innocents. In the gospel story it’s a place of sharp edges, romantic mystery, fierce drama. For some in the historic church and some in the global church today, discipleship is dangerous, fierce, costly. We can never complacently say that couldn’t be our reality. Many of us know what it’s like to be a minority in our own culture and/or church. But the truth is, for most of us Bethlehem names a church we pray for, stand in solidarity with, but don’t ourselves belong to.

Then there’s Galilee. Galilee in the gospels is made up of towns like Capernaum, Tiberias, Cana, and Nain – places where revelation happens, Jesus tells parables, calls disciples, performs miracles, is transfigured, confronts authorities, forgives sins, speaks the words of eternal life. Perhaps fundamentally he shares his purpose and identity with a trusted group of twelve disciples, training, empowering and inspiring them to embody his mission throughout the region. You could perhaps split the church between those who think what counts is what happened in Galilee – Jesus the community organiser, building a social movement – and those who think it’s all about Jerusalem – Jesus dying and rising for our salvation. If you recall those two profound and influential 1971 musicals, Godspell is all about Galilee, with Jesus the minstrel teaching his troubadour disciples to be tricksters and storytellers, while Jesus Christ Superstar is all about Jerusalem, with Judas distraught that all Jesus’ good intentions have gone horribly wrong. Sometimes discipleship does feel like Galilee: many of us have had times influenced by a charismatic leader when it felt we were a subversive movement challenging and confronting an unwary or flawed world. But most of church, most of the time is more ordinary than that.

I’ve already mentioned Jerusalem. Here we find the greatest paradox of the gospels – Jesus, heaven’s eternal king, first adopting the style of a peasant, entering on a donkey, then being dragged through the streets like a slave, criminal or prisoner of war, whipped, humiliated and finally crucified. Jerusalem itself divides the church between those who believe it all happened for a destined reason, was all prophesied, was all guided by God’s all-knowing hand, and those who see the cross as a terrible tragedy, the most poignant manifestation of how far humankind has strayed from God’s loving purpose, and yet a tragedy that through God’s unflinching resolve was turned into the moment we knew beyond question God would be with us always. Jerusalem was too much for the disciples. They betrayed, denied, and fled. Yet Jerusalem was also where they regathered after the crucifixion, celebrated the resurrection, and were clothed with power at Pentecost. In the end each one of us faces Jerusalem. We all have to die, and we can all face the question of what we think is worth dying for. We all face moments where loyalty to our faith leads us to challenge, confrontation and sacrifice. But for most of us, most of the time, Jerusalem is not our reality. Jerusalem is something that teaches us about God’s never-failing commitment to us. But mercifully, we’re not generally faced with such stark choices or such brutal realities.

That’s the background to the Nazareth Community. Because the Christian life, at St Martin’s, and among those drawn to join as Companions from further afield, is sometimes about drama, often about empowerment, but fundamentally about the habits and commitments of Nazareth. What does Nazareth represent in the gospels? Not the fulfilment of prophecy. Matthew’s gospel may suggest ‘He shall be called a Nazarene’ is a fulfilled prophecy, but those words are nowhere to be found in the Old Testament. Nazareth means three things. It means most of all the place of nurture and growth, of Jesus being a carpenter, being Mary’s son, coming of age amongst a family and town in which he had to be a human being before being God, where he dwelt humbly and patiently awaiting the moment his ministry began, forming habits, establishing disciplines, becoming an educated Jew, loving life, neighbours, hard work, prayer, synagogue, family. Nazareth second means the place shortly after he began his ministry where he delivered his celebrated manifesto, proclaiming the jubilee and God’s special heart for the dispossessed. And Nazareth third meant the cruel and painful rejection of his words by those who heard them, almost to the point of their lynching him by hurling him off a cliff.

Here lie the foundations of the Nazareth Community and Companions of Nazareth – in these three points of significance. Most importantly, the trust that God in Christ is revealed in the ordinary and everyday, in companionship, in silence, in scripture, in sacrament, in staying with and in sabbath – in the rhythm of good work and kind gesture, in the mystery of relationship and the humility of daily obedience. That’s the bedrock of Nazareth – for Jesus, and those who follow. Then there’s the spirit of jubilee, the joy of God’s upside-down realm, where those disadvantaged by circumstance or malice, by hardship or oppression, find freedom, solidarity, belonging and hope. One of the central gifts of the Nazareth Community is sharing – sharing between those who have been excluded and those who feel like strangers in their own town, those who feel like beginners and those who recognise it’s time to begin again, those whose life is lived in fear and those whose existence is shaped by exhaustion. Here the word with, the word together turn from a conviction about Jesus’ life into the shape of our devotion, from a statement about the nature of God into a truth about the joy of one another. And last, there is hostility in the world, there is misunderstanding and tension and self-interest and defensiveness. And sometimes you have to embody what Jesus modelled, the dignity and authority to pass through the midst and go on your way. Which is a constant reminder to us that Nazareth today is not a place of tranquillity and nurture but one of tension and conflict.

Richard’s letters from Nazareth have an intriguing ambiguity about them because in some ways they are written about the experience of Nazareth from one participant, one member to other members. But by publishing them and making them available to a wider public, Richard is saying that something is happening in Nazareth that’s worth the world knowing about. What is that something? In simple terms it’s this. People are finding that if you centre your life on being with God, being with others, yourself and the creation begin to fall into place. People are discovering that you grow the church not by becoming more superficial and laminated, but by going deeper and staying there a long time. People are realising that the way to find God is not to journey a thousand miles but to stay still and let God find you. People are learning that scripture is not an oppressive book of rules but a gift that keeps on giving when you read it meditatively in community. People are remembering that the sacrament is not a magic potion that makes you holy but a shape of living that turns the scarcity of our lives into the abundance of God’s life. People are noticing that it’s important to be involved with the lives of those on the edge, but it’s just as vital to get out of thinking it’s our job to fix other people and start appreciating what God can do when we meet each other profound and lasting ways. People are anticipating that if we’re going to spend eternity with God, ourselves, one another and the renewed creation, it might be worth shaping our lives in that way now so that it doesn’t all come as a complete shock when it comes to pass.

Because that’s what Nazareth is the end fundamentally about. It’s about a group of people, in humble and undramatic ways, anticipating how we’re all going to spend eternity. The Nazareth Community and Companions are not a pastime for spiritual devotees. They’re a witness to the power of living God’s future now. God’s future is an upside-down realm where the Magnificat and Jesus’ words in Nazareth come true. But it’s also a society where silence, Sabbath and the stranger are our friends, and where all time is God’s time. Nazareth proclaims that Now is eternal life, if risen with Christ we stand. Welcome to Nazareth. Welcome to the gift of everlasting life with God.