Dean s Sermon for Matins at Christ Church, Oxford: June 26 th The Very Revd Professor Martyn Percy

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1 Dean s Sermon for Matins at Christ Church, Oxford: June 26 th 2016 The Very Revd Professor Martyn Percy Deuteronomy : The Sabbatical Year At the end of every seven years you shall grant a release. And this is the manner of the release: every creditor shall release what he has lent to his neighbor. He shall not exact it of his neighbor, his brother, because the LORD's release has been proclaimed. Of a foreigner you may exact it, but whatever of yours is with your brother your hand shall release. But there will be no poor among you; for the LORD will bless you in the land that the LORD your God is giving you for an inheritance to possess if only you will strictly obey the voice of the LORD your God, being careful to do all this commandment that I command you today. For the LORD your God will bless you, as he promised you, and you shall lend to many nations, but you shall not borrow, and you shall rule over many nations, but they shall not rule over you. If among you, one of your brothers should become poor, in any of your towns within your land that the LORD your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother, but you shall open your hand to him and lend him sufficient for his need, whatever it may be. Take care lest there be an unworthy thought in your heart and you say, The seventh year, the year of release is near, and your eye look grudgingly on your poor brother, and you give him nothing, and he cry to the LORD against you, and you be guilty of sin. You shall give to him freely, and your heart shall not be grudging when you give to him, because for this the LORD your God will bless you in all your work and in all that you undertake. For there will never cease to be poor in the land. Therefore I command you, You shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in your land. Acts : The Storm at Sea Now when the south wind blew gently, supposing that they had obtained their purpose, they weighed anchor and sailed along Crete, close to the shore. But soon a tempestuous wind, called the northeaster, struck down from the land. And when the ship was caught and could not face the wind, we gave way to it and were driven along. Running under the lee of a small island called Cauda, we managed with difficulty to secure the ship's boat. After hoisting it up, they used supports to undergird the ship. Then, fearing that they would run aground on the Syrtis, they lowered the gear, and thus they were driven along. Since we were violently stormtossed, they began the next day to jettison the cargo. And on the third day they threw the ship's tackle overboard with their own hands. When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.

2 Since they had been without food for a long time, Paul stood up among them and said, Men, you should have listened to me and not have set sail from Crete and incurred this injury and loss. Yet now I urge you to take heart, for there will be no loss of life among you, but only of the ship. For this very night there stood before me an angel of the God to whom I belong and whom I worship, and he said, Do not be afraid, Paul; you must stand before Caesar. And behold, God has granted you all those who sail with you. So take heart, men, for I have faith in God that it will be exactly as I have been told. But we must run aground on some island. When the fourteenth night had come, as we were being driven across the Adriatic Sea, about midnight the sailors suspected that they were nearing land. So they took a sounding and found twenty fathoms. A little farther on they took a sounding again and found fifteen fathoms. And fearing that we might run on the rocks, they let down four anchors from the stern and prayed for day to come. And as the sailors were seeking to escape from the ship, and had lowered the ship's boat into the sea under pretense of laying out anchors from the bow, Paul said to the centurion and the soldiers, Unless these men stay in the ship, you cannot be saved. Then the soldiers cut away the ropes of the ship's boat and let it go. As day was about to dawn, Paul urged them all to take some food, saying, Today is the fourteenth day that you have continued in suspense and without food, having taken nothing. Therefore I urge you to take some food. For it will give you strength, for not a hair is to perish from the head of any of you. And when he had said these things, he took bread, and giving thanks to God in the presence of all he broke it and began to eat. Then they all were encouraged and ate some food themselves. (We were in all 276 persons in the ship.) And when they had eaten enough, they lightened the ship, throwing out the wheat into the sea. The Shipwreck Now when it was day, they did not recognize the land, but they noticed a bay with a beach, on which they planned if possible to run the ship ashore. So they cast off the anchors and left them in the sea, at the same time loosening the ropes that tied the rudders. Then hoisting the foresail to the wind they made for the beach. But striking a reef, they ran the vessel aground. The bow stuck and remained immovable, and the stern was being broken up by the surf. The soldiers' plan was to kill the prisoners, lest any should swim away and escape. But the centurion, wishing to save Paul, kept them from carrying out their plan. He ordered those who could swim to jump overboard first and make for the land, and the rest on planks or on pieces of the ship. And so it was that all were brought safely to land.

3 Sermon Text Some years ago, a Professor of Psychology at the University of Louvain took an interest in how people feasted and celebrated. As part of his research, he asked one of his students to write a thesis on the following subject: how do children, from the ages of 9-11 years of age, experience the phenomenon of feast?. The student approached the subject in a number of ways, and one of these consisted of showing a controlled group of 100 children three drawings of a different birthday feast. In the first drawing, the picture depicted a child alone, but before a mountain of gifts and presents waiting to be opened. In the second drawing, the child was not alone, and was surrounded by just a few members of their family, and some food - a birthday cake, ice-cream, and other treats. But there were many fewer presents to open - in fact only one parcel, and not very big at that. In the third picture, the child was surrounded by wider family, friends and neighbours, and there was more food. But there was no gift or parcel in the picture at all, so nothing to open. The question the children were asked was simple enough: which of these birthdays would you rather have for yourself, and why? Seventy percent of the sample chose the third picture. And they explained, as children might, that this was the real feast. Others said because in the third picture, everyone is happy - in the first picture, only I am happy, and in the second picture, not enough people are happy. The children, in other words, grasped something authentic about humanity and sociality. That by being together, and only be being together, can we be truly happy. True, this takes organisation, and can be headache for the organisers. But a feast, to be a feast, needs people. A feast is not about what s in it for me or being self-fulfilled. It is about others, as much as ourselves. A true feast, in Christian terminology, is a communion with God, and a communion with people. The two are indivisible. We cannot share at the common table and only be self-interested. Any more than we can share in a common feast of the word, and be only there for ourselves. When God bids us welcome - to the feast that George Herbert speaks of in his poem, Love Bade Me Welcome - we are invited into a meal and an experience that is collective in character. Because God s love is shared. God s feasts are gracious in character; sublime in their fullness, greatness and capacious vision. They draw us in; and they send us out. They are profoundly communal. Perhaps, like me, you have despaired - and perhaps been depressed - in recent months over the quality and character of debate on whether or not to stay in Europe. I have mourned how easily the word community and union - two fine words and concepts that remind us of our bonds with our neighbours - have been neglected. We seem to have gone out of our way to make a virtue out of being unneigbourly; told ourselves that sharing - giving and receiving - is risky.

4 The debate, at times, has felt like an advocacy for the first two birthday pictures I described earlier. We are better off on our own; or better off with just a very few friends. But if we can t control the numbers at the table, perhaps the answer is not to feast. But the feast that Jesus regularly refers to and refrains - that of the Kingdom of Heaven - is an inclusive, widespread and open affair. And the early church understood this not only in liturgical terms, but also in social and political terms too. So the first Christians looked after the widows, orphans and poor. And they treated them not as objects of charity, but as equals. They did this to foreigners, friends, neighbours, slaves, free, male, female, children, adults As John Chrysostom wrote, ubi caritas gaudet, ibi est festivitas: where charity rejoices, there we have the feast. The early church were committed, in other words, to that that third picture. The birthday of the church was Pentecost: many nations; many tongues; one Lord; one faith; one hope; one union. Europe is a profoundly Christian project. The church, in other words, was always for others. And perhaps, we might say, Europe is not only there for what we can get out of it. It is there for others too. It is a shared enterprise, built on profound notions of charity, reciprocity, giving, receiving and grace. It has not always lived up to its calling. The divisive strident nationalisms in two world wars, and more recently in the Balkans, shows us what can happen when naked nationalism asserts itself over the common good. Indeed, that phrase, common good is something that has been used by modern catholic theologians over the twentieth century. But of course, its origins are rather older. I declare an interest here, as a sometime lecturer and tutor at the Said Business School - an association I enjoy and find immensely enriching. But when I teach, I like to tease a bit, as is my wont. So here s a question I ask students: what is the oldest constitution in the world that people still live by today?. Many students approaching this assume it might be somehow British - the mother of all parliaments, and all that. Some braver souls suggest Iceland - that is the world s parliament, by the way, formed in 930 AD - the Althing. But no, it is not that either. No, the answer is The Rule of Benedict, written around 540. So yes, catholic, European, and designed to regulate life and how we live together. It begins with a simple word: hearken, or listen - and goes on to tell us that if we want to lead a body or a group, we must first of all listen to it. It advocates charity, compassion, grace, hospitality, hope, holiness. It preaches regard and respect for neighbours, and for the poor. It tells us how to live together, despite our differences. The essay I then set on the basis of this is simple. Write a book review on a text that teaches us about leadership. But there s a catch: a stipulation. You can only write a review of a book that has been in continuous print for at least 300 years. This cuts out all the modern dross at a stroke - those tiresome books at airport bookshops that brashly claim to be the latest fad and breakthrough in leadership studies or management theory. They are all deleted from this exercise.

5 So what can you write on? Well, Machiavelli s Prince. Shakespeare s tragedies such as Lear or Macbeth - both have plenty to say on leadership. Though I think I prefer the deft, reflexive leadership you find in Shakespeare s comedies, that bring order and reconciliation for all - and out of seeming chaos. Benedict s Rule has already been mentioned. Gregory s Pastoral Rule - the text book on how to be a bishop, translated by Alfred the Great - mostly unknown to and unread by today s bishops. Goodness, its only 1500 years old what could people possibly know about being a bishop in the sixth century? Or you could read the Bible. Or you could try some other texts. But these are treasures of Europe, as I say. And they are shared. And the essence of the problem today is just that: sharing. But the coming weeks and months will all be about leadership. Because the political debates and disputes that lie ahead are potentially dangerous, divisive and toxic. The Referendum has not ended a process - rather, it has opened a deep wound in the body politic and in our society, and it will take considerable effort to bring about processes of healing and reconciliation. If we fail to see the enormity of the task, the wound will simply fester; the pain and potential for political poison will only spread, going deeper. As Deuteronomy says, If among you, one of your brothers should become poor, in any of your towns within your land that the LORD your God is giving you, you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother, but you shall open your hand to him and lend him sufficient for his need, whatever it may be.. So let me end by simply pointing out that today s set readings hardly need further comment. The Old Testament tells us to regard our neighours - the aliens and the strangers - and treat them as friends of God, and as fellow citizens. The reading, much like Benedict s Rule, reminds us that the poor are our problem - not someone else s. And the New Testament has a perilous sea voyage, in which citizens of many nations - soldiers, prisoners, sailors and passengers - all ensure that in the wake of a shipwreck, everyone gets to shore safely. No one is left to drown. Everyone looks after everyone else. And all of this in a Europe yet to be born. Two complementary visions of Europe, then, and of being and belonging together. This is the feast; the common good. But our Referendum produced alarming maps of human geography. Almost 75% of our young people voted to remain. Two-thirds of our pensioners voted to leave. Our maps show divisions between young and old, rich and poor, shire and city, region and province, county and town. We need leadership that brings healing, compassion, comprehension and wisdom. And what does Deuteronomy say in all this? Simply: for there will never cease to be poor in the land. Therefore I command you, You shall open wide your hand to your brother, to the needy and to the poor, in your land. Amen.