On being able to see – and 'false peace'
Fourth Sunday in Lent: 6th March, 2005
Fr John Davis, Vicar of St Peter's, Eastern Hill
There is a powerful incentive in troubled and unsettling times to reconsider the basics of our faith; in relationship with God in Jesus Christ, in community, in the context of worship and prayer and Scripture and service. From that comes a renewed sense of just who and what we are and why we are here. A sense of crisis or major and dividing problems makes this vital and necessary process in Christian discipleship take on a more urgent edge. It helps us become clearer about just what this particular city church, this central Anglo Catholic community of faith, this Melbourne part of Anglican Christianity would hope to be and to offer. Lent is in any case, the particular season of the Church year in which we are encouraged to deepen our faith and to try to grow in our understanding.
Today's gospel of the healing of the man born blind is one of the great descriptive narrative teachings offered to us by John. Just like last week, the teaching could have been summarised easily enough in a sentence or two, but nowhere near as memorably as in this narrative form. The sharply drawn characters, the twists and turns of the story line, the hostility, the anger, the prejudice, the remarkable event at the centre – the healing of a man born blind and on the Sabbath. There is a lot in this one and it provides the background for our reflections today.
What have we got going at the moment to help us along the way? There are several really stimulating study groups that are currently gingering up the life of the parish. If it is just not possible for you to get to any of them, the written materials are available to peruse at home if you prefer. The 'Back to the Bible' sessions for instance at 4 pm on Sunday afternoons are being really appreciated. There is a fine teacher at work there in Fr Craig. I think they are busy with Exodus at the moment. People are learning and growing in their understanding and appreciation of Scripture.
Last Wednesday we had the first of the monthly Canterbury Readers meetings. We are looking at addresses by Rowan Williams. This group is now full by the way and the next meeting is in early April. We are looking to set up further groups of 12 if there are more who are interested, on whatever days or times that may mutually suit; to spread this simple way of coming to grips with some really good theological material. It is like a monthly book club but with only 15 pages of solid theology to read, not a whole book – and then the willingness and the ability to chew it all through in a lively group. A simple idea but a good one, for those for whom this way of learning is familiar and helpful.
Anyway, the topic this last week happened to be a substantial address from the Archbishop of Canterbury on Benedictine Spirituality. The address was written almost two years ago but it incidentally threw some considerable light on the process of addressing (or not addressing as the case may be) some much more current events in the Anglican Communion. Indeed I think it illustrated a way of approaching problems, a possible template, that could well be being put into practice. The central part of the address was in many ways quite counter cultural, and certainly challenging. Building out from an examination of the Holy Rule of St Benedict, the Archbishop was looking at some prime values that need to be evident in a healthy community of faith – be it a small group, a religious house, a parish, or a whole Church. These qualities include, Benedict considered, transparency and honesty, peacemaking, (and true peace not false peace), as well as accountability and collegiality.
Our group had a very vigorous discussion on these and other points, but it was the notion of 'false peace' that really took my attention. This is that calm that can be obtained by denying the consideration of any issue in any depth, or simply failing to acknowledge that profound difference actually exists. The peace that prevails simply because no action is taken or no response is given - that is 'false peace'. That 'false peace' too might be found by just hoping that something will quietly go away if it is not talked about. This is actually the situation many consider that our Anglican Communion is in today – and the formal parish statement on 'Division in the Anglican Communion' that is included in today's pew sheet does make some comment on that.
Then on Thursday evening, our regular weekly Lenten study group came together around this gospel for this Sunday – the healing of the man born blind. Around 25 of us enjoyed a most stimulating to and fro over all the layers of this wonderful gospel passage. And if we just for a moment consider that Benedictine notion of 'false peace' as it might be applied to this gospel, I imagine that the man who had been healed could have had a much quieter life if he had just said that he didn't know who had done it or what had happened – or had even remained silent when the authorities got so twitchy about the alleged connection between disability or illness and sinful acts – but he did not. No false peace for him. He even did a bit of sound teaching and theological reflection right back at them. Not a good career move, as it happens, but full of integrity.
But no false peace for the Lord either. Of course he could have done this fairly spectacular healing work on any other day of the week other than the Sabbath and not attracted any criticism for breaking Sabbath laws. But the Sabbath was when the issue presented itself. So that was when he had to respond. And he did.
He responded and he acted, using powerful symbols of earth and water, picking up on the themes and the celebrations of the great festival going on all around them and, above all, showing the grace and the love of God, at work so powerfully in this healing. And in addition the great contrasting depths of light and darkness, of having no sight, no insight, and then seeing and understanding all – themes so beloved by John throughout his gospel - these are here for all of us to see and to grasp. It is really enjoyable to grapple with these things for ninety minutes or so, and to do it together, along with prayer time and a light meal. A good combination.
Two Sunday evenings ago I was asked to address a meeting at St Stephen's Richmond. This is given a good write-up in the current Melbourne Anglican available in the Bookroom today. I have also been asked to speak at St George's Goodwood in Adelaide on a similar theme, while I am on leave in April. And I will be very pleased to do so. You can see from the teaser on the front page that my sound bite heading 'A middle reasonable ground', caught the attention of the editor of The Melbourne Anglican – as I had hoped that it would. There is something deliciously ironic that the Vicar of Eastern Hill - that well known haunt of all things extreme – can be seen to be moderate. But these are volatile and unusual times. And there certainly seems to be a diminished level of sweet reason in the major battles that are being fought out in present day Anglicanism. We are all having this conversation, aren't we? Is it really worse now than it has been at any of the various crisis points in the past that those of us with long historical memories can list? It certainly seems so. The stakes do seem to be getting higher. The choices do seem to be getting harder.
But then, is this not also exactly the time when we have to consider, in this troubled context, that warning about a dangerous 'false peace' that St Benedict was grappling with and writing to his brothers about, 1600 years ago?
I have to say that there has been an absolutely deafening silence from our Bishops, at what I would say is a pretty critical time in the life of this Anglican Church and Communion. Where is our guidance? Where is our leadership? The Australian bishops have been in conference in Adelaide all last week and now the Standing Committee of General Synod has been meeting this weekend – so perhaps there will be something significant tomorrow. Perhaps we should not hold our breaths. But meanwhile, silence is false peace. Inactivity is false peace.
In the meantime however, local parish communities are left to make of these things what they can. Here, as everywhere else, we will do the best we can, taking into account the pastoral and spiritual needs that we all share, and using as a prayerful assistance in our discernment such useful resources as our parish vision statement so recently worked through and reconsidered.
And today on this Refreshment Sunday in mid Lent, we have been given as our gospel this striking story of light and insight and perception breaking through. Things became very clear for the man born blind – for the first time in his life. But this clarity of understanding and direction came at some cost to him. Obviously the blind beggar had to find a new way of life. But he was also evicted from the Temple community for saying what he thought and what he now believed. The authorities who had so cowed his parents could not stop this man, who now worshipped Jesus in grateful thanksgiving – 'seeing' in every sense. So we have it all; darkness and light, blindness and sight, fear and courage, throwing out and drawing in, law and grace, inaction and action - and then more besides.
Perhaps too we have a reminder that there are times, never convenient, when difficulties or problems or most profound challenges present themselves, demanding an action and a response. May we all be given the grace and the discernment to find the way forward, together.
The Lord be with you.
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