A sermon preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields on October 28, 2024 by Revd Richard Carter
Reading for address: John 11: 32-44
For the last two days Angela Sheard, Catherine Duce, Raymond Hayter and I have been in Norwich leading an online retreat for the Companions of Nazareth and praying from the cell of Julian of Norwich. Julian of Norwich lived at a tough and violent time from 1342 to approximately 1416; which means that she survived one of the most terrifying pandemics of western history: ‘the black death’ — during which the bubonic plague ravaged England, between 1348 and 1350 killing half of those who lived in Norwich. She lived at a time of great social unrest – with the Hundred Year War in progress – Norwich knew violence, and poverty intensified by the plague. The church itself was also divided and in conflict with itself. Sound familiar? But in the midst of this time of fear and upheaval and at a time when she herself was so sick she was on the verge of death, Julian had a vision in which she saw the crucified Christ and she was to spend the next 20 years enclosed in this small cell in Norwich praying and reflecting upon that revelation and writing what has become a Christian Spiritual Classic, Revelations of Divine Love. Yes, in the midst of social breakdown, violence, poverty and disease her revelation meditating upon the cross of Christ was that of divine love.
What is it that Julian sees in this vision? It is I believe that at the very heart of the pain of the world – and in our own places of fear and abandonment that Christ is present and he is bleeding. How often in our lives we see violence and want to look away. How many of you have seen the images coming out of Gaza and Lebanon these last few days and not wanted to look away. The children bleeding, the pools of blood in the rubble of demolished buildings, blood-soaked clothing, children wrapped in bandages, bodies in cotton shrouds lined up for burial. The blood of our common humanity. Mothers screaming for their wounded children. How many times and how many have asked where is God in all of this. There are no glib or easy answer. Sometimes we are forced to simply remain present to the suffering with no answers. There are times when we come face to face with the horrifying sin of the world.
Julian knew that she could not turn away. Where is God in all of this? Here he is nailed to a cross by the sin of the world. In Julian’s vision it is vividly clear for her to behold. Jesus is right there in front of her eyes – bleeding, bleeding most copiously. The crucified is no stranger. Here is Jesus pouring out his blood for the world. And in the violence of our world Christ is still being crucified.
Christ confronts us with a vivid contrast – the unbearable violence of the world. The wounds of sin and there in the midst of it. in this most desolate place, Christ transforming the place of death into the place of life and love.
Here, present with us in our own places of despair, futility, desolation. Christ is here
Julian opens up this paradox that is at the very heart of the Christian faith – the crucified Christ – the lamb of God, taking away the sins of the world – the wounded God pouring out his love for the world: ‘My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness.’ For Julian the cross of Christ is the place of transformation. She realises that nothing is outside the love of God for she realises: ‘that even the smallest thing shall not be forgotten.’ She writes:
This was shown to me– that in the falling and rising again we are always kept in the same precious love: He said not– thou shalt not be tempested.
Thou shalt not be travailed
Though shalt not be diseased
But he said– ‘Thou shalt not be overcome’ All shall be well
And all manner of things will be well.
Spending time in Norwich praying in the cell of Julian and contemplating the vision of Julian I have been struck by how relevant that vision is for the world today. Somehow in the trials and tribulations of our present it is now more than ever, that we who follow Christ, must not lose heart – his sacred heart of love.
So many of the divisions of the world at the moment involve a hardening of the heart -a heartlessness – a giving into fear, prejudice, and hatred. Like wanton gangs of boys by the bicycle sheds there is a hierarchy of who can threaten more, humiliate, bully, beat the other up, have the bigger knife or machete. But these Strong Men of our world-order have bombs that can destroy the world. And there is an inability to see that those you call your enemies are also made in the image of God. It seems a total aberration that we should return to a global order where success depends on the power to kill, destroy and murder your enemies. Where an endless cycle of violent revenge escalates on all sides. An order where cities are turned to rubble and 16 story blocks of houses are flattened with woman and children and civilians inside. These are our brothers and sisters in Christ just as those who died and were taken hostage on 7 October are also our brothers and sisters in Christ. Just because you care for the innocent victims on one side of the divide it does not mean you cannot care for the victims on the other side. We are all equal – equal before God. Our hearts grieve for both sides. The heart of Christ is not about protecting your own. It is a heart which stretches out to all the world- ‘Come unto me ALL who are heavy laden and I will give you rest. For I am gentle and humble in heart.’
Gentleness and humility is not weakness it is the path of God who has made himself known to us in Jesus Christ. Jesus the Son of God who weeps, yes weeps at the grave of Lazarus as we heard in today’s Gospel and wants to rise all God’s children. He wants to set us free from these death cycles just as he unbinds and sets Lazarus free. Jesus weeps for our children, weeps over Jerusalem. Where is Christ in all of this? He is in the bombed hospital in Gaza or Lebanon among the children reaching out hands and praying for bread, he is the Jew taken hostage and tortured whose mother fears for his life, he is among the frightened elderly displaced and homeless afraid with nowhere to hide. He is the one who cries out ‘Father forgive them they not what they are doing.’ This is the Christ who is silent before the accusers so obsessed with their own power and the paranoia of losing it. This is the one tortured for the sins he did not commit. And he is the one who goes on loving – he is the one whose life and death and resurrection say this: ‘Thou shallt not kill.’ Stop the acts of violence, stop the invasion, stop the oppression, he is the one crying over Jerusalem and at the graveside of both Jews and Palestinians. He is saying unbind my people – let them go free. Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you. Do not pay back evil for evil but answer evil with good. This is the only path to resurrection and the only path to peace.
Pope Francis has just written a powerful encyclical published two days ago: it is entitled Dilexit nos (He Loved Us).
It focuses on the sacred heart of Jesus and the need to rediscover the heart of God in love, forgiveness and compassion for those from whom we are divided fear and enmity. You may think this sounds like naïve romanticism in a world increasingly dominated by Strong Men, fear, and indiscriminate violence. How can a heart full of love change anything? It is the only thing that ever has. Pope Francis writes:
Returning to the Heart
The heart is the locus of truth and sincerity, where deceit and disguise have no place. We need to think about the really important questions in life. Who am I, really? What am I looking for? What direction do I want to give to my life, my decisions and my actions? Why and for what purpose am I in this world? How do I want to look back on my life once it ends? What meaning do I want to give to all my experiences? Who do I want to be for others? Who am I for God? All these questions lead us back to the heart.
If we devalue the heart, we also devalue what it means to speak from the heart, to act with the heart, to cultivate and heal the heart.
A society dominated by narcissism and self-centredness will increasingly become “heartless”.
In a word, if love reigns in our heart, we become, in a complete and luminous way, the persons we are meant to be, for every human being is created above all else for love. In the deepest fibre of our being, we were made to love and to be loved.
For this reason, when we witness the outbreak of new wars, with the complicity, tolerance or indifference of other countries, or petty power struggles over partisan interests, we may be tempted to conclude that our world is losing its heart. We need only to see and listen to the elderly women – from both sides – who are at the mercy of these devastating conflicts. It is heart-breaking to see them mourning for their murdered grandchildren, or longing to die themselves after losing the homes where they spent their entire lives. Those women, who were often pillars of strength and resilience amid life’s difficulties and hardships, now, at the end of their days, are experiencing, in place of a well-earned rest, only anguish, fear and outrage. Casting the blame on others does not resolve these shameful and tragic situations. To see these elderly women weep, and not feel that this is something intolerable, is a sign of a world that has grown heartless.
But in these women too there is a sign that the heart of love cannot be overcome. As Isaiah prophesised ‘Can a mother forget her infant at her breast, or the child in her womb? But even if a mother forgets, I will never forget you. Never. I have inscribed your names on the palm of my hands.’ In the words of Julian of Norwich I shared with you:
This was shown to me– that in the falling and rising again we are always kept in the same precious love: He said not– thou shalt not be tempested.
Thou shalt not be travailed
Though shalt not be diseased
But he said– ‘Thou shalt not be overcome’ All shall be well
And all manner of things will be well.
This is what baptism is all about. Dying to the sin of the world and being raised to new life in Christ. Christ gives you his own heart full of love – may you daily increase in the power and peace of that love until you come to his kingdom in heaven. And may we all grow in that baptismal love of Christ. It is the most precious eternal gift we have. We must magnify Christ’s heart of love. We must unbind it and let it go free – free to transform this world.
Lord, we need your sacred heart. As you brought new life Lazarus bring new life to all who call upon your name. Bless all your children with the heart of Jesus. Bless all those you baptise into your love to become your peacemakers.
