Advent 4: 19 December, 1999
The Rev'd Dr John Davis, Vicar, St Peter's Eastern Hill
The angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a
virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the House of David: and the virgin's
name was Mary. Luke 1:26
So the annunciation gospel begins, used today on the Sunday next before
Christmas, and also on March the 25th, nine months before the birth of the
Lord. A quiet announcement, the careful to and fro of a scarcely credible
conversation; remembered, repeated and recorded a generation later. It is a
gentle beginning for something as momentous as the Incarnation; the birthday of
the Lord, the Word becoming flesh and dwelling amongst us; God of God, Light of
Light. As Luke tells it, there is a sense of contained excitement in the
presence of a great mystery, a great wonder. Without doubt, there is a
confidence in the working out of God's promise. And there is a powerful sense
of peace and calm resulting from the acceptance of the message: Mary's yes to
God; God so remarkably at work in that human being, so full of grace. This is
the moment of a new beginning. This is the start of a most decisive episode in
the story of our salvation. With this in place, then the whole thing begins to
unfold. The stage is set for the celebration that is to come, next weekend.
The Old Testament lesson this morning reminded us that this is all part of the
fulfilment of the prophecies of the centuries. The psalm sings of the goodness
of the Lord, whose guiding hand remains with his people through the
generations. In the epistle Paul concludes his letter to the Romans with the
declaration that this Jesus Christ is the revelation of a mystery kept secret
for endless ages, but now so very clear. Our gospel acclamation asks that we
too may be in the position to say yes to what God offers. The time of waiting
is almost over. This is good and stirring material. It has the potential to
be contagious and exciting. Other lives have been changed by this - why not
ours? Why not, indeed.
Since this is going to be my last opportunity to preach to a normal
congregation before the turn of the year, I am in a somewhat reflective mode. I
would like to resist the temptation to say next week to all our Christmas
visitors, how nice it would be to see them every Sunday, just like that. They
know we think that. But my thoughts on this matter are really for the sort of
person who turns up on an ordinary day. The challenge is to the regulars or to
the visitor who might become a regular.
The arrival of the fourth Sunday of Advent, with all four candles burning
strongly in the Advent wreath before us, introduces a certain sense of urgency
to whatever preparing, spiritual or otherwise, that is going on at this time.
As I said, it has provoked me to some reflection.
We are indeed living in a world that is full of uncertainties. So many things
that formerly could be taken for granted, are not able to be any more. Our
own individual lives and careers bring their share of bumps and scrapes. But,
by a strange combination of circumstances and instincts, we all find ourselves
together here, at St Peter's Eastern Hill. Priests and people. Old hands,
new hands. Long in the Faith, fresh to faith. Calm and passionate.
Questioning, angry, challenged, open, shut. You name it - we have it! What
city church would or could be otherwise? Certainly not the Hill.
This is a place where it is possible to stay quietly anonymous, if that is
your desire. It is also a place that can become the centre, around which your
whole life revolves, if that is what you desire. It is a place that tries
hard to welcome those who visit or who are new - but we need to do better. It
is a place, which not only tolerates but embraces diversity. A creative sense
of fun, or at the very least a quiet smile rather than a grim dismissal, is
certainly a positive aspect of this community at its best. But we can do
better.
We would want people who like us are searching and growing, or trying to grow
in the Faith, to feel welcome here. A city church is a place where one can be
different, quite as well as being comfortably predictable. It is a place
where you can attempt to be honest with yourself (and each other) while also
trying to be honest with God, in company with a whole lot of others doing the
same thing. There is a large enough mass of people to not feel unduly
pressured, though we could do with some more. There is a coming together
across the several generations and a whole range of life experiences. At the
centre is the worship of God, as we have received it in our Catholic
tradition, and our fellowship together in that.
We have had a good year together. There is much that has happened that has
been very encouraging. We have seen and experienced some of those good things
that can happen when once again we work together as a team, where there is a
shared vision, a shared hope, a shared sense of what might be. That is not so
easy, and can never be taken for granted.
Next week the church will on at least two or three occasions be full. I am,
as I said, resisting the temptation to preach this sort of sermon then because
I am indeed convinced that the key to the future consolidation and expansion
of all that we love and value here, rests with the nurture and development of
the commitment of our regular congregations.
But this place more than most needs gently but strongly to encourage something
more. From those to whom much has been given, much is expected! Lots of
people are surprised to hear that this church has never really had it easy.
This is not a parish that can simply coast along on endowments. This is not a
parish church with a large and wealthy hinterland of supportive once- in -a
-while Anglicans to provide a useful buffer. Our statistics are hardly at all
bolstered by the rites of passage of those on the fringe. At one level, we
have no fringe. On another, our fringe is the entire metropolitan area and
then some. There are expectations. There is a reputation. (And that can be
both positive and negative). There is a hope.
There are times when I look at the nave and see more timber than people. That
is really something that we all need to work on. It is the challenge of
encouraging others to join us. It is the challenge to each one of us to make
that extra committed effort - not one Sunday a month, but each and every
Sunday in the month, if at all possible. It is indeed all a question of
priorities. What is worth that sort of commitment? If it is agreed that the
Christian faith is worth it, then there is still the question of where will
each one of us find and locate our Christian community? Nowhere is perfect.
Every parish has its limitations and frustrations. No priest can satisfy all
needs. But it is altogether too easy to use those sorts of arguments. A city
church like this sure has a lot going for it. But St Peter's needs your
deepened and on-going commitment to our life together here, week by week. We
need each other, and we need more of us, more often.
We are all conscious of the need for successive generations to take their
part and place in the on-going life of this church. Each generation needs to
hear and receive the gospel afresh, and to live it out. Each generation here
needs to explore and embrace what it is to be an Anglican Catholic: to
re-express and to re-integrate: to share, to reach out, to offer leadership.
I have a great sense of thanksgiving for the wonderful tradition that we are
so clearly and consciously part of, here. Generations of the faithful have
gone before us. The very stones exhude prayer and worship and a sense of
continuity with the Church of the ages. Visitors instinctively recognise and
acknowledge this. So do we. That is why this church is so loved and so
devotedly cared for. We have a great responsibility to those who have gone
ahead of us. We have an awesome responsibility to those who have yet to come.
I have no doubt that this next twenty or thirty years will see enormous
challenge to the Church: a degree of challenge that will make the pain and
struggle of this time seem small by comparison. Some of us will not be here
in thirty years time. But there are some here right now who will themselves
have leadership in the joyful task of ensuring that St Peter's is still
offering worship, ministry, care and fellowship, within our catholic
tradition, then. We must be building and preparing for that, now.
And so we return to that sense of anticipation, that bright shining burst of
the awareness of God at work that is at the heart of today's gospel. We have
it presented to us today to encourage us to be prepared, to be ready in
whatever way is right for us in our circumstances, to experience the power and
grace of God at work in our lives. That is what this season is about. That
is the promise that is offered.
The Lord be with you.
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