A sermon preached at St Martin-in-the-Fields on Sunday 7 March 2021 by Revd Richard Carter.
Readings of address: 1 Corinthians 1. 18-25 & John 2. 13-22
Chapter two of John’s Gospel is like the prelude in which the fourth Gospel dramatically introduces its major themes and the chapter contains two powerful dramas. The first is the Wedding at Cana. A wedding is taking place but something is seriously wrong – the wine has run out and in John’s Gospel this becomes the sign that the relationship – the covenant between God and God’s people has run out. Mary turns to Jesus- somehow it is he who must restore the covenant. His time has not yet come and yet he offers a sign of the restoration his life will bring. Six stone water jars are filled with water to overflowing by the servants and then somehow this water becomes the most delicious wine of all. “You have saved the best wine until now” exclaims the astonished Master of Ceremonies. What was empty is now overflowing, scarcity has been transformed into abundance: wine becomes the sign of God’s liberating love, God’s saving action, God’s intervention, God’s relationship- and of course the sign of Christ’s own blood- the blood and water which later in the Gospel will flow from Christ’s own side- the outpouring of his life for them creating a new covenant.
How could you follow a story like that? Well immediately John’s Gospel presents the second drama in chapter two that we heard in our Gospel today. And it’s even more public because this drama takes place in the Temple in Jerusalem at the very centre of religious and civic power. Notice the way John’s Gospel has positioned this drama- in Matthew Mark and Luke a similar event takes place in the last week of Jesus’ life, straight after the triumphant entry into Jerusalem, but John has strategically placed this scene right at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry.
Jesus goes up from Galilee to Jerusalem. It’s the time of the Passover so it couldn’t be busier. It’s a for-taste of the confrontation that is going to take place three years later. Arriving in Jerusalem Jesus goes into the Temple and finds it crowded with tradesmen making money- cattle and sheep, money changers tables, a trade in animals for sacrifice. Its hard for us to fully grasp the significance or controversiality of what Jesus does. We see this incident from his perspective- the Temple, his father’s house, has become a market place and he drives them out. But change perspective- and imagine it. An unknown man from the provinces attacking the symbol of religious and national power. Attacking the Temple, the very place that for the Jews symbolised their covenant and relationship with God. This act was indeed incendiary. The Temple is like Westminster Abbey and The House of Commons rolled into one- it’s the centre of their collective story and identity. An attack on the Temple would not only be seen as an attack against authority and power but also a blasphemy against God. What is this Gospel trying to show us? Well in 70 AD this temple would be destroyed and John’s Gospel is written after that. It’s as though Jesus is saying that the true temple- the place where heaven and earth meet is not just built of stone. Now is the time for reformation and transformation. This temple of covenant and authority has become hollow- it courts not life but death, not truth but deception, not covenant with God but a relationship which has failed. He makes a whip- it’s the only time in any of the Gospels where Jesus shows such aggression. If you are on his side it is the moment of seismic change- and if you are not it’s an act of blasphemy and rebellion at the very heart of religion and state. And the next piece of dialogue is key to our understanding. “Pull down the Temple and in three days I will build it up again”- what does Jesus mean? He means that our relationship with God is not about temporal or religious power. It’s much more than a building however sacred, Neither is it about laws however important or religious sacrifice or cultic practices. Its not about maintaining the status quo or control. It is about the dwelling place of God- where God tabernacles or pitches his tent. And the revolution that this Gospel is revealing is that the dwelling place of God is humanity. The Word has been made flesh. The temple, the meeting place, the ladder between heaven and earth is Jesus Christ himself. The implication turns things upside down- in the next chapter Jesus will tell Nicodemus a leader of the Jews that he must be born again- and become the barer not just of Humanity but of the Spirit of God- and in chapter 4 he will go further still and tell a Samaritan woman that the time has come when the meeting place with God is neither on the mountain or in Jerusalem but “in Spirit and in Truth”-and he will give her the living water after which she will never be thirsty again- – and if she receives Christ’s gift the spring of life giving water will be within her gushing up to eternal life. In other words Jesus is saying that the gift of God- God’s eternal life is going to be within us too and will not be defined by race or tribe or gender but we are all God’s chosen people- and our own human bodies the dwelling place of God’s eternal Spirit.
I wonder how we can apply this Johannine revelation and revolution to the experiences we are living through. Are we not realising again Christ cannot be contained within any building or institution or set of practices? We have been learning again that if we close the church God moves beyond the church into our homes, into our streets. The life of Christ is not something we can control or lock-down. And if the church fails to incarnate the Gospel it simply becomes the curator of an empty building or the preserver of its own structures and authority rather than the living witness of the Christ it claims to serve. Often the church has held back reformation and transformation and changed itself only when everyone else has, rather than being at the forefront of the change and the prophetic voice of justice. Think of the big issues of the last 100 years issues of human equality, race, gender, sexuality, peace, dignity and justice. Often the church has sought self-preservation, and to defend its own control and authority rather than the bold, generous, living courage of the Gospel. It has not trusted in the radical message of love it claims to serve and has turned its back on the poorest, the oppressed. It has not embodied the life of Christ.
It is when our lives are at stake that we see the true Gospel emerging from hiding. I assimilated the Gospel in a parish church as I grew up often yawning in its pews but I began to learn its meaning when things in my life were at stake and I knew where I wanted to stand if only I had the courage or more importantly where Christ’s Spirit could lead if I could only get out of the way. I began to see Christ more and more in my neighbour, often the so called poorest or the suffering. What we are being called to is not just to repeat the past and replicate the structures that provide privilege and security but to listen again to the Gospel. To listen deeply to it. To rediscover the depth of its compassion and the radicality of its demands: to be prepared to trust in its message of love and hope even when our lives seem to be a stake. Not a church which hides away- but living stones of which Christ himself is the corner stone. We need to participate in the life of Christ. In short we need to be converted over and over again to the one who could pull down the temple and rebuild it in 3 days. The longing of Christ that each one of becomes the church with the ever-open door- that the font becomes our baptism, that we become our prayer, that the bread and wine we receive at the altar becomes Christ in us and those we meet- we become sacrament, that the altar, the place of offering is our lives, and our east window -our Jacobs ladder reaching both from earth to heaven and heaven to earth is not only a window in front of us but the door within our humanity uniting both heaven and earth
What we have discovered in lock-down is that Christ cannot be locked down and that far from being a time of spiritual scarcity never has the revelation of God’s abundant love been made more manifest or more needed. We may be able to live without a hymn sheet, but we have needed to become the prayer of love and healing for our world. We may have been told we cannot gather in church but we have longed for the beauty of those sacred places more than ever. We may have been told to stay safe and stay at home but we have discovered the wonder of the natural world, the gardens, the tree the plants the birds, the land the sea and sky it has made our hearts cry out for justice for creation. WE may have been told we cannot gather socially but we have discovered our love for our neighbour is our source of grace and salvation. We have seen the brutal inequalities and injustices of society, and taken the knee because black lives matter, we have recognised the loneliness of the vulnerable, and longed to show greater love for the elderly. We have learnt to hunger again for the body and blood of Christ and for each moment in our lives to become sacrament. We have seen Christ in those who nurse the sick and those who have died feeling so alone but for God.
When the church opens up again our prayer is not that we return to normal but that we return to and with Christ. The one who requires space and time and trust. That we discover again our sacred spaces as places of praise, prayer, forgiveness sanctuary and transformation. That our prayer, listening and contemplation widen and broaden us- and this hallowed place becomes our Jacob’s ladder. That this church becomes the place where we learn of the love of God-. That we carry the death of Jesus within us so that his life may be revealed in us. That we learn what it is to preach the crucified Christ- and that God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength. That this church we love, becomes the place where the word is made flesh.
An elderly woman in the Lent course last week said that the way she had been brought up in the Christian faith felt as hard as a kernel. The kernel she said was important because it was the casing for the seed but that she had needed the kernel to break open for the seed to grow. Perhaps this time is the time when the kernel is breaking open and the seed can grow into the tree in whose branches all people can find shelter.
