And for the English… (Kirchentag 5)

Here is the English translation of the sermon I preached yesterday at the Closing Service of the Kirchentag in the Stadtpark in Hamburg.

SERMON for Closing Service, DEKT 34, Hamburg, 5 May 2013

(Draft English translation)

I have two very young grandchildren. The elder is called Ben and he will soon be three years old. It is very funny listening to him learning to speak English. His language ability – shaped by living in Liverpool where the accent is … er … ‘unique’ – means that he learns phrases quickly, but doesn’t always use them correctly. So, I am looking forward to what he makes of the phrase: “Your eyes are bigger than your tummy.” Like many kids of his age, he can eat for England… and he sometimes takes more than he needs, more than he can possibly eat. As he grows up he will learn.

Or will he?

How much is ‘enough’? How much – and of what – do I need to be satisfied? And is ‘being satisfied’ the same as being ‘happy’?

The prophet Micah was thinking about this many centuries before iPhones, designer jackets and sports cars. Banking crises and currency challenges lay far in the future, and yet his own society was struggling with hard choices about how to live and how to love together with people who aren’t just like me. Micah’s world sounds familiar, doesn’t it? He wrote in a context of economic revolution. Material prosperity in his time led to an individualistic materialism and an approach to religion as a means to achieving or fulfilling man desire – what we might call ‘self-fulfilment’. And this, in turn, had led to a crisis in the area of personal and social values in which, as usual, the poorest people suffered the most. Injustice, greed and false idols of self-protection characterised society and shaped political and economic direction. Religion was tamed, having lost its challenging edge – a challenge based on a vision of a different world.

So, what Micah has to say was not relevant only to Israel many centuries ago, but speaks to us now. Because what he addresses is not particular social or economic arrangements, but the human heart and mind – which, for all our technological progress, does not seem to change very much at all from one generation to the next. It seems we still want to be happy and fulfilled and satisfied, but perhaps without recognising that such happiness, fulfilment and satisfaction cannot exist for any individual – or single community – without reference to the happiness, fulfilment and satisfaction of what the Bible calls my ‘neighbour’.

We might also remark that this applies to our political obsession with ‘security’. I cannot be secure, if my security simply negates the security of my neighbour. I cannot think about security in isolation from the needs of those who live alongside me. And it is this that places a question mark over the effectiveness of dividing walls, whether they be those dismantled in Berlin or those being constructed in the Land of the Holy One.

However, Micah is less concerned about establishing political programmes at this point than imagining a vision. He calls people who have lost their way and forgotten their story (as children of the God who created the cosmos and all that is in it – including the poor, the foreigners and those who are ‘different’) not to take hold of a vision ‘out there’, but to be grasped by a vision that transforms the way they see God, the world and themselves.

It is as if Micah says to his fearful people: “The old ways of seeing and being haven’t worked have they? Do you feel more secure now – happier in your skin? Or dare you see that your vision is tired and dull, that all you hoped and worked for now lies around you like the ruins of a once glorious city? Like Damascus or Baghdad or Aleppo?

A popular comedy series in NDR takes place in a bistro. In a famous line, the owner says, „That’s just how it is…“ – thus is the world. But the Bible subverts our understanding of reality and invites us – no, challenges us – to see God, the world and ourselves differently. The world does not have to be the way it is!

One day the famous Italian artist Michelangelo was seen rolling a huge stone down a hill. He had to use all his strength to manoeuvre the great rock in the right direction. Someone saw him and and asked what he was doing: after all, it is just a big rock. Michelangelo replied that he was in a hurry because there was an angel in the rock, waiting for the artist to reveal him.

Michelangelo could see what normal people couldn’t even imagine. And this short story illustrates the challenging vocation of people who want to look out through God’s eyes. Do we simply see what is before our eyes, or do we see the world around us differently?

Micah invites us to think differently, to see God and the world differently, and to be fired by a vision of a different world. A world in which we can be satisfied with ‘enough’ and in which our neighbours can be satisfied without us having to be afraid. The images he uses in 4:4-5 of his prophecy are deliberate: there will be no terror or fear because you will be satisfied with your own tree and not need to capture your neighbour’s tree when you don’t need it. After all, you can only sit under one tree at a time, can’t you?

This vision assumes that individuals and communities, fired by a different vision, will only take what they need and will deny themselves what they do not need. They will question economic models that worship at the altar of infinite economic growth – as if they are never any consequences of such growth. And they will never be content while the growth of their fig tree comes only at the expense of – or as a threat to – their neighbour’s fig tree.

Micah paints a picture of how and what the world might become – an image that goes beyond mere argument and worms ist way into our imagination as an image of hope and promise. It is as if he gently plays a melody that slowly develops into an ‚ear worm’ of hope and longing in the soul of a lost people.

This vision radiates peace; the song resonates with love and generosity that drive out fear. According to this vision everyone – regardless of which language they speak or which culture they espouse – can live with their neighbours in security and without fear. The God of Israel takes fear away and creates a new world full of new potential for human flourishing and the common good.

And this vision calls the people of God back to their original vocation: to live in the world in such a way that all people recognise in them the face of God.

Micah challenges us today to be inspired by a vision that fires our imagination, colours our memory and from which we cannot escape. Michelangelo saw the finished sculpture; he simply had to work at the stone until the angel concealed within it revealed itself. He saw deeper, he could recognise the potential, and so turned his energy and strength to creating the beauty that others could not yet conceive.

We are called to see as Michelangelo did – to recognise God’s face in the world and to reveal hope to the world. The Canadian musician Bruce Cockburn captures Micah’s call when he sings: „You gotta kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight”.

As much as you need. Only as much as you need. Perhaps my grandson might learn after all that when he has what he needs, then he has enough.

 

Micah calling (Kirchentag 4)

Oh well, it’s done. I preached this morning to 130,000 people in the sunshine at the Stadtpark in Hamburg. The Closing Service is always impressive – 5,500 scouts, 4,000 in the brass band, bread and wine distributed in less than twenty minutes – but to be part of it was both a once-in-a-lifetime privilege and a complete eye-opener.

I had to edit out a third of the original text. I owe everything to excellent and kind German friends such as Silke & Christoph Römhild, Joachim Lenz and Corinna Dahlgrün, who make sure I don’t sound stupid – or, at least, if I do, it has nothing to do with the language.

Here is the text:

34. Deutscher Evangelischer Kirchentag Hamburg 2013 : Schlussgottesdienst

Soviel du brauchst (Micha 4.4-5)

Alle Menschen aus Israel und den Völkern werden unter ihrem eigenen Weinstock und unter ihrem Feigenbaum sitzen – niemand wird mehr Terror verbreiten. Denn das Wort ADONAJS, mächtig über Himmelsheere, wirkt. Ja, alle Völker handeln im Namen ihrer Gottheiten, wir handeln im Namen ADONAJS, unseres Gottes, jetzt schon – und in der Zukunft.

Ich habe zwei Enkelkinder, die noch ganz klein sind. Der ältere von ihnen heißt Ben, er wird bald drei Jahre alt. Er wächst in Liverpool auf, wo der Dialekt – ähm… einzigartig ist. Ben hat ein besonderes Sprachvermögen für Sprichwörter, er lernt sie schnell, aber er benutzt sie nicht immer richtig. Ich bin sehr gespannt, was er aus dem Sprichwort „Deine Augen sind größer als dein Magen“ machen wird. So wie viele Kinder seines Alters kann er essen wie ein Scheunendrescher – und manchmal nimmt er mehr als er braucht, mehr als er überhaupt essen kann, mehr als genug. Aber das wird er noch lernen, während er größer wird.

Das wird er doch, oder?

Wie viel ist “genug”? Wie viel – und wovon – brauche ich, um zufrieden zu sein? Und ist „zufrieden sein“ das gleiche wie „glücklich sein“?

Der Prophet Micha dachte über diese Dinge nach, lange bevor es iPhones, Designerjacken und Sportwagen gab. Banken- und Währungskrise lagen noch weit in der Zukunft und doch: Michas Gesellschaft rang mit den schwierigen Fragen, wie man leben und lieben sollte mit Menschen, die einfach nicht so waren, wie man sie gern hätte. Michas Welt und seine Fragen kommen uns bekannt vor, oder? Er schrieb im Kontext einer wirtschaftlichen Revolution. Materieller Wohlstand führte zu seiner Zeit zu einem individualistischen Materialismus. Religion wurde als ein Mittel angesehen, die Wünsche und Sehnsüchte der Menschen zu erfüllen – was man auch Selbstverwirklichung nennen könnte. Das wiederum hatte zu einer Krise der ethischen und sozialen Werte geführt, wobei, wie in solchen Fällen üblich, die Ärmsten am meisten leiden mussten. Die Religion war gezähmt, sie hatte ihre Schärfe verloren – die Schärfe, die daraus resultiert, dass man eine andere Welt für möglich hält.

Was Micha zu sagen hat, war also nicht nur für Israel von Bedeutung, sondern es spricht heute zu uns. Denn was er anspricht, sind nicht nur ganz spezielle soziale oder wirtschaftliche Verhältnisse, sondern das Herz und der Verstand des Menschen – und beides scheint sich, ungeachtet all unseres technologischen Fortschrittes, nicht so besonders zu verändern von einer Generation zur nächsten. Es sieht so aus, als wollten wir heute immer noch glücklich und erfüllt und zufrieden sein. Allerdings erkennen wir dabei (immer noch) nicht, dass es solches Glück, solche Erfüllung und Zufriedenheit nicht für Einzelne – oder einzelne Gemeinschaften – geben kann, ohne Rücksicht auf das Glück, die Erfüllung und Zufriedenheit dessen, den die Bibel meinen „Nächsten“ nennt.

Man könnte hinzufügen, dass dies auch für unsere politische Besessenheit mit Sicherheitsfragen gilt. Ich werde niemals sicher sein, wenn meine Sicherheit die Sicherheit meines Nächsten verneint. Ich kann nicht über Sicherheit nachdenken, ohne die Bedürfnisse meiner Nachbarn in Betracht zu ziehen. Und deswegen steht ein großes Fragezeichen über den Sicherheitsanlagen und Mauern dieser Welt, sei es die niedergerissene Mauer in Berlin, seien es die, die im Heiligen Land errichtet werden.

Aber Micha geht es weniger um die Errichtung eines politischen Programmes als vielmehr um eine Vision. Die Menschen seiner Zeit hatten ihren Weg verlassen, sie hatten sich verlaufen und ihre Geschichte vergessen – ihre Geschichte als Kinder Gottes, der das Universum geschaffen hat und alles, was darin ist, einschließlich der Armen, der Ausländer und derjenigen, die „anders“ sind. Micha rief sie auf, nicht nur eine Vision „da draußen“ zu ergreifen, sondern sich ergreifen zu lassen von einer Vision, die sie verändert und die Weise, wie sie Gott, die Welt und sich selbst sehen.

Es ist, als ob Micha zu seinem ängstlichen Volk sagt: „Die alte Art und Weise zu sehen und zu sein hat nicht funktioniert, oder? Fühlt ihr euch jetzt sicherer – oder glücklicher? Wagt es doch euch einzugestehen, dass eure Sichtweise müde und matt ist, und dass alles worauf ihr gehofft und wofür ihr gearbeitet habt, um euch herum in Schutt und Asche liegt wie die Ruinen einer einstmals glorreichen Stadt. Wie Damaskus oder Bagdad oder Aleppo…“

Eine beliebte Comedy-Serie im Norddeutschen Rundfunk spielt in einem Schlemmerbistro. Ein geflügelter Satz von Bistrobesitzerin Stefanie lautet „Es is‘ ja wie es is‘….“ So ist die Welt eben. Aber die Bibel untergräbt unser Verständnis der Wirklichkeit. Sie fordert uns heraus, Gott, die Welt und uns anders anzusehen. Die Welt muss nicht so sein, wie sie jetzt ist!

Eines Tages rollte der berühmte Künstler Michelangelo einen riesigen Felsbrocken einen Abhang hinunter. Er musste seine ganze Kraft aufbieten, um den Stein in die richtige Richtung zu manövrieren. Jemand sah ihn dabei, blieb stehen und fragte, was er da tun würde, schließlich sei es doch bloß ein riesiger Stein. Michelangelo erwiderte, dass er es eilig hätte, denn in dem Stein würde sich ein Engel befinden, der nur darauf warte, dass Michelangelo ihn heraushole.

Michelangelo konnte sehen, was normale Menschen sich überhaupt nicht vorstellen konnten. Und diese kurze Geschichte illustriert die herausfordernde Berufung der Menschen, die durch Gottes Augen hinausschauen möchten. Sehen wir nur das, was uns vor Augen steht, oder schauen wir die Welt um uns herum anders an?

Micha lädt uns ein, anders zu denken, Gott und die Welt anders zu sehen und uns anfeuern zu lassen von einer Vision einer anderen Welt. Eine Welt, in der wir uns genügen lassen mit dem, was wir haben und in der unsere Nächsten zufrieden sein können, ohne dass wir Angst haben müssen. Die Bilder, die er in Kapitel 4, Verse 4 bis 5 entwirft, sind wohlüberlegt: Es wird keinen Terror und keine Angst geben, weil ihr mit eurem eigenen Baum zufrieden sein werdet und den Baum deines Nächsten nicht erobern müsst, weil ihr ihn nicht braucht. Schließlich kann man immer nur unter einem Baum gleichzeitig sitzen, oder?

Micha malt ein Bild davon, wie und was die Welt werden könnte – ein Bild, das weit über bloße Argumentation hinausgeht, und sich als ein Bild der Hoffnung und der Verheißung in der Phantasie einnistet. Es ist, als ob er leise eine Melodie spielt, die sich im Geist eines verlorenen Volkes langsam zu einem Ohrwurm der Hoffnung und Sehnsucht entwickelt.

Diese Vision strahlt Frieden aus; das Lied klingt nach einer Liebe und Freizügigkeit, die die Angst verdrängt oder ersetzt. Der Gott Israels nimmt die Angst und schafft eine neue Welt voller neuer Möglichkeiten für das Aufblühen und das Gemeinwohl aller Völker.

Und diese Vision ruft das Volk Gottes zu seiner ursprünglichen Berufung zurück: so in der Welt zu leben, dass alle Menschen in diesem Volk das Gesicht Gottes erkennen können.

Micha fordert uns auch heute heraus, durch eine Vision inspiriert zu werden, die unsere Phantasie anregt, unser Gedächtnis verfolgt, und aus der wir nicht entkommen können. Michelangelo hatte die fertige Skulptur vor Augen; er musste einfach den Stein behauen, bis der Engel sich zeigen würde, der darin steckte. Er sah tiefer, er konnte das Mögliche deutlich erkennen, und so wandte er seine ganze Kraft und Energie darauf, um eine Schönheit zu erschaffen, die anderen zu diesem Zeitpunkt noch verborgen war.

Wir sind dazu berufen, wie Michelangelo zu schauen, Gottes Gesicht in der Welt zu erkennen, und der Welt diese Hoffnung zu enthüllen. Der kanadische Musiker Bruce Cockburn fasst die Forderung Michas zusammen, wenn er singt: “Du musst die Dunkelheit treten, bis sie Tageslicht blutet” (“You gotta kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight”).

Soviel du brauchst. Nur soviel du brauchst. Vielleicht lernt auch mein Enkel irgendwann: Wenn er hat, so viel er braucht, dann hat er genug.

Posted with Blogsy

 

The sun shines on… (Kirchentag 3)

…, well probably not on the righteous, but definitely on the big sinners in Hamburg.

Yesterday was too full to write anything in the evening. I did a two hour session on a stage with politicians discussing immigration, parallel societies and what makes a good society. I went from there to the Messe to do a Meissen discussion in the Markt der Möglichkeiten. Then it was straight back to the port to do another podium discussion on social media before heading back to the Messe to preach and lead a Caribbean Communion with the wonderful Judy Bailey.

Today was odd. I worked on Bradford stuff all morning. I had to get to the Stadtpark for noon to rehearse the Closing Service for telly tomorrow. I am preaching to a congregation of 100,000 and it is being transmitted live on German telly. I thought I had just over ten minutes, but when I did it it turned out to be sixteen. Also, I am held by the German text and need to look up more. And I need to get my German inflexion right. And intonation. That's all.

Anyway, we got it down to around 8-9 minutes and it will be easier to relax into it. I am also doing the opening greeting and the blessing at the end.

The sun has been blazing all day and Hamburg is beautiful. The sun shone despite me being late for the rehearsal (blame the trains… or my failure to work out how long it would take me to get there). It shone despite my over-long sermon. It shone despite my poor delivery and worry about how to edit the text (which a good friend did with me – Professor Corinna Dahlgrün – managing to be both deliberate and kind).

So, now I have done the editing and am about to head off to the Anglican Chaplaincy to preside at the Meissen Service. Then… tomorrow… sunshine… a huge congregation… a shorter, better sermon. I hope. (If not, I will leave the country!)

 

Posted with Blogsy

 

Inclusive conversation (Kirchentag 2)

This is the only relatively free day I have at the Kirchentag in Hamburg. I started work this afternoon with an interview on the 'Red Sofa'. This is a stage in front of the Congresshalle in which people are interviewed, interspersed with music from Chris Paulson and his band (which turns out to be his two sons). I only ever see Chris every two years at the Kirchentag and on the Red Sofa.

Following Margot Käßmann's Bible Study this morning, we stayed put to listen to a discussion including Joachim Gauck, the Bundespräsident. Moderated superbly by a ZDF TV presenter, Gauck engaged with Samuel Koch (a quadraplegic actor who had been an athlete), Rainer Schmidt (a pastor/cabarettist and Paralympic winner) who was born with no forearms, and a business woman called Monika Labruier. The theme had to do with creating a 'strong society' and focused on disability issues. It was intelligent, moving, challenging and very, very funny. Again, the hall was full – 7,000 people – and many were locked out.

The remarkable thing about this conversation was the lack of self-pity on the part of the disabled participants… and their refusal to allow any romantic idealising of them or their attitude to life. And nothing was considered out of bounds.

One interesting question revolved around the identification of victimhood. According to Gauck and his fellow interlocutors, responsibility has to be taken by those whose lives are 'diminished' insofar as they are active players in shaping their life; but, society also has a responsibility to provide for and create optimum space for people to thrive. This involves making space in schools for the development of proper provision for disabled children – and this cannot be done over the heads of disabled people, but in discussion with them. Cost should not be a tool for making life hard for disabled people (but, try saying this to parents of disabled children in England – some of it would sound like a conversation from a different planet).

The discussion concluded with questions of how we cry against God. Gauck made the point that we all cry against God for what 'might have been', but asked how much do we need? Schmidt put it this way: “Ten fingers or just my single thumb? I can do what I need to do.” Schmidt went on to describe how he 'discovered' at the age of six that he was disabled and described an inclusive society as one in which different people are enabled to live together and thrive.

It is impossible to do justice to this. Whatever I write here is open to question and the language to criticism. So be it. Gauck ended by saying that he thanks God that he is here to hear this conversation.

Music at this event was provided by a rock band of mentally-handicapped people.

Schmidt went on to discuss abortion in a way that would not be possible in England without polarising people immediately. Noting that if he had been expected now, he claimed he would almost certainly have been aborted. This then led to debate about abortion and the grounds for it in Germany – including discussion about the reasons why fewer children are being born in Germany today.

What is striking is how the Kirchentag encourages and allows intelligent debate about serious matters without people having to polarise. The ethical divides are not ducked, but nor do they force people behind barricades. It is a model of intelligent and respectful difference.

Anyway, the afternoon for me involved visiting the huge book hall and then heading over for my interview. I caught the last 45 minutes of a podium discussion between Israelis and Palestinians before going to eat with friends and get back to the hotel to bung up this blog.

Now for bed. Tomorrow is busy and looks like hard work.

 

Posted with Blogsy

 

5 reasons for not blogging

1. Trying to prepare a half-appropriate sermon for the Closing Service of the Kirchentag in Hamburg on 5 May. But, my head is full of 'stuff'.

2. Trying to sort chapter of academic book for the most patient editor in the world. Need to source quotes, but am away from my books.

3. Currently speaking at a parish weekend in Cumbria – two talks done, one to go (tomorrow). And the big yellow thing in sky has emerged, bringing with it warmth, people and lack of concentration.

4. Trying to read TS Eliot's Four Quartets, but too many other things keep intruding. Like the progress of my hopeless fantasy league football team.

5. Tired. Nothing to say.

 

Posted with Blogsy

 

Voting for a change

This morning the Bradford Diocesan Synod – in a secret ballot – voted 90-4 in favour of the Dioceses Commission scheme to create a single new diocese for West Yorkshire and the Dales. We had an excellent debate in which people were visionary, responsible, realistic and prophetic: it was inspiring to listen to. The negatives were aired alongside the positives, but courageous vision is how I would describe the vote.

Ripon & Leeds voted in favour. Wakefield voted against. Now it goes to the Archbishop of York for a decision as to whether the wider needs of the Church of England should demand that the changes be put to the General Synod anyway. They should.

Here is the text of my (so-called) Presidential Address to the Synod this morning:

PRESIDENTIAL ADDRESS

One of the Old Testament pithy sayings I often quote is the line from Proverbs 29: “Without a vision the people perish”. The truth of the saying is not in doubt. Any group of people that has no vision toward which they live and work – and for which they might sacrifice much – will not survive for long. It is the common purpose – the commonly held sense of direction – that holds them faithful while all around them changes and threatens and wobbles.

No wonder, then, that a common vision is hard to hold on to and sometimes hard to identify in the first place. After all, a ‘vision’ can be made up of lots of fine-sounding words; but then more words have to be found – and agreed upon – that establish the strategy – the ‘how will we get there?’ stuff – for making the vision a reality. And there lies the real challenge. For any vision that can only be realized in the long term lies open to being thwarted by immediate or short-term realities that can easily distract from the agreed goal.

So, although we might all agree with the fine-sounding line from Proverbs, we then find ourselves in some difficulty trying to formulate precisely which vision and strategy should be adopted. In one sense, we need to be grasped by a vision – having our imagination and will captivated by it – rather than us simply trying to dredge one up.

This is pertinent when we look at the matters before us on our agenda today. What sometimes looks obvious and clear from a distance becomes more complex and demanding the closer we get to actually making a decision. But, let’s put the more ‘domestic’ matters in perspective before getting into the substance of the options before us.

A month ago I travelled to Sudan for my first visit to our link dioceses there. Linda and I spent just over a week meeting people and being introduced to the place, the people, the church, the history and the politics of the country. I posted eight blogs from Sudan while we were there, but tried to be careful about what I wrote and how I wrote it. As I learned from my decade-long links with Zimbabwe, it is all too easy to salve my western conscience by ‘speaking out’ about what is going on there, whilst thereby only making life even more difficult for those people who pay the price for my ‘prophetic’ utterances. Since returning, I have been clear that any response from me and us must be guided by those who will live with the consequences. Accordingly, I am in contact with Ezekiel, Bishop of Khartoum, about the daily realities, checking our perceptions with him, and being guided about what to do at this end. (And there was a debate in the House of Lords on Wednesday this week, sponsored by Baroness Cox, into which our experience and analysis was fed via the Bishop of Exeter.)

What is increasingly apparent is that President Bashir’s government is engaged in ethnic cleansing of Africans. It is further clear that they want a single nation (Sudan) of a single race (Arabs) with a single language (Arabic) caught up in a single religion (Islam). Although complex, the direction – the ‘vision’, if you like – is clear; and it is not good for Africans – Muslim or Christian. We need to bear this in mind daily as we pray for our brothers and sisters in Sudan, as we interpret the news we hear, as we consider how to respond, and as we continue to give of our wealth to house and feed those who have nothing.

Such support also comes form strange sources. I was speaking at an ecumenical conference in Hannover, Germany, a couple of weeks ago and agreed to stay on and preach at an international service on the Sunday morning. The organisers pressed me about where to direct the offering, which normally amounts to around €150 and in the end I suggested our Kadugli Appeal, which so far has raised around £100,000. The offering came to just short of €600 and will arrive in our accounts soon.

I tell you this partly to assure you that when I am on business away from Bradford, I am also working for Bradford and telling our story beyond our borders. The conference in Hannover was established by both Roman Catholics and Protestants in the Hannover-Hildesheim region and attracted 1300 delegates to look seriously at how the church in Germany must change if it is to grow and reach a new generation. Fresh Expressions is something they have latched on to and they are keen to learn from the Church of England about our successes, our failures and our vision. Of course, listening through German ears compels me to examine the perspectives I have in England and in Bradford – which is never entirely comfortable, but does inform priorities and action.

(I will be in Germany again in May, along with some clergy and lay people form the Diocese of Bradford. The Kirchentag attracts around 120,000 ‘full-timers’ and a total of around 300,000 people over the four days. I will be doing various things, but my principle responsibility will be to preach at the outdoor closing service to a congregation of between 100-120,000 people. This will also be televised nationally on German TV. This is a privilege for an Englishman, great for the Church of England, and a shameless propagation of Bradford in Europe. Pray for me… and for those who have to decipher my German.)

I have been accompanying and observing the German Church’s reform process since 2007 when I was invited to the launch of the process in Wittenberg, birthplace of the Reformation in 1517. Although the cultures are different in many respects, watching the management of change in the EKD has been informative at a time when we are looking at significant change in the Church of England. I will refer here to two matters.

First, the matter of admitting women bishops to the episcopate. I don’t intend to rehearse here the events of July or November in the General Synod. Suffice it to say that anyone who comes up with a simple rationale for the failure of the legislation in the House of Laity has almost certainly got it wrong. The reasons for the failure are many and they are complicated – especially when you realize that it failed (in terms of votes) because enough people who want women bishops didn’t want them in the manner prescribed by that form of legislation. Vision and means again.

Since November facilitated conversations have been going on between different parties and the House of Bishops discussed these developments at our meeting in early February. Several options emerged and these will be worked on to see if there might be sufficient support for a form of legislation to be recommended by the House of Bishops in May for initial debate at the General Synod in York in July.

It is less clear to me than it is to others that this will happen. The current mantra is ‘simplicity with security’, which, it seems to me, ignores the fact that the search for ‘security’ militates against ‘simplicity’ – which is how we got to where we were in November in the first place. Anyway, an enormous amount of work is going on in order to see if a way forward can be found informally that will subsequently bear the weight of any legislation that might follow. Watch this space.

But, if agreeing on how to have women bishops is tough, we in West Yorkshire and the Dales face a challenge much closer to home. I hope to speak to this in the debate later, but will only do so if the points I wish to make have not already been made by others.

The challenge before us looks simple: we all agree we need to change, but what that change should look like – and how it should be brought about – is not obvious to everyone. The Dioceses Commission did not dream up their proposals because they had nothing better to do with their time or imagination. Look at the numbers for the three dioceses and, whatever the rhetoric from some quarters, they are, broadly speaking, heading south. If the proposals for a single diocese with an area system do not offer better mission and growth potential, then it should be obvious that current arrangements do not offer an alternative. One way or another there has to be change in the way we organize, ‘do church’ and reach out in this part of the world.

The problem comes, of course, when we ask what that change should look like. That will be the matter debated later. The Bishop’s Council has agreed that we vote in a secret ballot in order to ensure that everyone is free to make their own mind up. The method for doing so will be outlined immediately prior to the debate. Please note that our vote today is in principle – and although a considerable amount of coordinated work has gone on within and between the three dioceses already in order to flesh out realities and potentials, costs and benefits, making any changed arrangement a reality will depend solely on the will, determination, imagination and vision of those involved.

So, if you vote for this scheme, you commit to taking responsibility for making change work; if, however, you vote against, you need to ask yourself what you are, in fact, now voting for. No structure, old or new, will of itself deliver anything. Today is a challenge to our vision for the good news of Jesus Christ in West Yorkshire and the Dales, our courage in facing change, our faith in God and one another, and our realism about the challenge before us.

The writer of the proverb I cited earlier got it right: without a vision the people perish. (Although ‘perishing’ can take many forms…) But, to confound Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice, not ‘any dream will do’. Our vision must be faithful and bold, realistic and achievable, godly and honourable. However we vote – and you do not need to be reminded here of my support for the scheme, especially as I am probably one of the few to have worked an effective area scheme (Southwark/Croydon) – we need to do so prayerfully, with confidence and with a clear recognition that the status quo is not an option, that we will direct change or it will drive us.

As Joshua heard before entering new and unknown territory: “Be bold, be strong, for the Lord your God is with you.”

 

Hannover Conference address

Here is the basic text of my final address to the Kirchehochzwei conference in Hannover which finished this afternoon. Nothing new or earth-shattering, but the joke worked…

Kirche hoch zwei, Hannover, 16 Februar 2013

Wir haben zwei oder drei Tage miteinander erlebt, vieles gehört und gesehen, und jetzt kommen wir zum Schluss. Wir haben darüber nachgedacht, was es eigentlich bedeutet, Kirche zu sein und Kirche zu tun. Vielleicht sind wir ermutigt; vielleicht sind wir enttäuscht. Und ich? Ich bin ermutigt und enttäuscht: ermutigt, weil es so viele guten neuen und alten Initiativen in den deutschen Kirchen gibt; enttäuscht, weil Liverpool am Donnerstag 2-0 gegen Zenit St Petersburg verloren hat. Gibt es wirklich ein Gott?

Also, lass mich dieses Sendungswort mit einer kurzen Geschichte anfangen.

Drei Männer wanderten in den Bergen. Sie kämpften sich ihren Weg durch die Bäume und versuchten, ihre Hütte vor dem Einbruch der Nacht zu erreichen. Plötzlich stießen sie auf einen reißenden Fluss. Das Wasser lief den Berg hinunter und die Männer hatten keine Ahnung, wie sie den Fluß überqueren sollten. Aber es gab keine Alternative – sie mussten unbedingt diesen Fluss überqueren, aber sie wussten nicht wie.

Der erste Mann betete: „Gott, gib mir bitte die Kraft, um diesen Fluss zu überqueren.“ Pouff! Plötzlich wurden seine Arme größer; seine Brust erweiterte sich und seine Beine wurden stärker. Dann warf er sich in den Fluss hinein und schwamm auf das gegenüberliegende Ufer. Er brauchte zwei Stunden. Ein paar Mal ist er untergegangen und wäre fast ertrunken. Aber, endlich, ist es ihm gelungen, das Ufer zu erreichen, und er schleppte sich total erschöpft an Land.

Der zweite Mann beobachtete den ersten Mann und er betete: „Gott, gib mir bitte die Kraft und die Mittel, um diesen Fluss zu überqueren.“ Pouff! Plötzlich wurden seine Arme größer; seine Brust erweiterte sich und seine Beine wurden stärker; und ein Kanu tauchte vor ihm auf. Er paddelte eine lange Stunde durch das Wasser und schließlich, total erschöpft und nachdem er zweimal gekentert war, schleppte er sich aus dem Wasser und auf das gegenüberliegende Ufer.

Der dritte Mann hatte die zwei Freunde beobachtet und er betete: „Gott, gib mir bitte die Kraft, die Mittel… und die Intelligenz, um diesen Fluss zu überqueren.“ Pouff! Plötzlich verwandelte ihn Gott in eine Frau! Er schaute in seine Handtasche, holte eine Karte heraus, ging hundert Meter das Ufer entlang, und überquerte die Brücke.

Heutzutage müssen wir neue Sicht- und Denkweisen im Blick auf die Kirche suchen, damit wir nicht die Realitäten, die Gelegenheiten und die Herausforderungen verpassen, vor denen wir stehen. Wie die Chinesen sagen: “Wir leben in einer interessanten Zeit.”

Aber die Herausforderungen und Gelegenheiten, vor denen wir als Kirche stehen, sind nicht neu. Vom Anfang an hat die Kirche lernen müssen, wie man Kirche kreativ schafft. Vom Anfang an hatten die Nachfolger Jesu die Verantwortung auf sich nehmen müssen, der Kirche Form zu geben und immer wieder frische Ausdrucksformen zu entwickeln. Diese Situation, in der wir heute sitzen, ist nicht neu. Und, wenn wir das Kirchenschiff durch die Stürmen steuern wollen, dann müssen wir bereit sein, die Fahrt zu genießen.

Gestern sagte Thomas Söding in einem Werkstatt: “Mithin ist es ein Privileg, mit im Boot zu sein, aber keine Garantie vor Stürmen und Schiffbruch, Angst und Schrecken.” Und die Wahrheit? In diesem Schiff sind wir miteinander zusammengebunden, ob wir einander mögen oder nicht. Und, während wir versuchen einander besser zu lieben, schläft Jesus seelenruhig unten im Boot. Seid ermutigt!

Wenn wir richtig und ernsthaft andere Christen lieben wollen, dann müssen wir auch die Kirche echt und ehrlich lieben – auch wenn uns eine solche Liebe wirklich Weh tut.

Von 1992 bis 2000 war ich Pastor in einem kleinen Dorf in der Mitte von England – Leicestershire. Die Fundamente des Kirchengebäudes sind angelsächsisch und es gibt neben der Kirche ein Kreuz, welches 1200 Jahre alt ist. Innerhalb des Kirchengebäudes steht ein Taufbecken, das normannisch ist – das heißt, tausend Jahre alt. Jeden Sonntag tranken wir aus einem Kelch, der aus der Zeit der ersten Königin Elisabeth stammt – das heißt 500 Jahre alt. Und in der Nähe der Nordtür stand an der Wand eine Tafel, auf der die Namen der Pfarrer von Rothley seit dem Jahre (ungefähr) 1060 geschrieben waren. Und das heißt 'Perspektiv'!

Wir sind immer noch da. Durch Kriege und Plagen, Reformation und Invasionen (mehrmals durch die Franzosen, die Dänen und die Deutschen!), wir sind da. Wir beten und singen und klagen und jammern und feiern und weinen und lachen und so weiter. Familien sind durch Tod und. Ehetrennung, Geburt und Arbeit, aufgebaut und zerstört – aber die christliche Gemeinde betet noch und versucht immer in die Welt durch die Augen Gottes hinauszuschauen.Die Welt ändert sich ständig, aber das Lied der Gnade und der Hoffnung kann nicht gestillt werden. Ich liebe auch die unfrische Kirche.

Aber die Welt hat sich geändert. Und meiner Meinung nach, wie ich schon an dieser Konferenz gesagt habe, ist es sinnlos und eine verpasste Chance, nur darüber zu klagen. Wenn die Kirche ihren Auftrag erfüllen will, muss sie die Sprachen der heutigen Welt erstens verstehen und zweitens sprechen können. Wir müssen uns daran erinnern, dass die biblische Geschichte uns zeigt, dass Gott sein Volk dazu beruft, sein Leib in der konkreten Welt von heute zu sein, und so zu leben, dass die Menschen, die mit der christlichen Gemeinde in Kontakt kommen, etwas von dem Christus erfahren, von dem wir in den Evangelien lesen.

Ich bin überzeugt, dass es Aufgabe der Kirche ist, einen Raum zu schaffen, in dem Menschen herausfinden können, dass Gott sie schon gefunden hat – auf Englisch klingt das: 'to create the space in which people can find that they have already been found by God'. Dazu müssen wir dort anfangen, wo die Menschen sind – und wir müssen eine Sprache sprechen, die die Menschen tatsächlich verstehen. Wir Christen müssen lernen, klar, einfach und mit Vorstellungskraft zu sprechen – Bilder mit Worten zu malen, damit Menschen neugierig auf Gott und die Welt werden. Und meines Erachtens ist das eine spannende Aufgabe, die wir genießen sollten.

Die Kirche steht vor einer großen Herausforderung: Wie können wir im alltäglichen Leben einer Kirchengemeinde den Raum schaffen, wo Menschen zu Christus kommen, als Christen wachsen, und als verantwortungsvolle Christen in und durch die Gemeinde leben können? Wenn so viele Menschen überhaupt keine Ahnung mehr vom christlichen Glauben haben,wie fangen wir eigentlich an, sie zu erreichen? Und welche Formen von Kirche oder Gottesdienst können wir schaffen, um solche Menschen in den Raum einzubringen, wo sie Gott und seine Kinder besser kennen lernen werden? Es ist von der Bibel klar, dass wir dort anfangen müssen, wo die Menschen sind – und nicht wo wir denken, dass sie sein sollten.

Es interessiert mich sehr, dass Jesus seine Freunde nicht in der Kirche zum ersten Mal traf, sondern dort, wo sie arbeiteten: auf dem Strand. Und gleich am Anfang des Evangeliums lädt sie Jesus ein, mit ihm spazieren zu gehen. Er sagte ihnen nicht, wo sie hingingen. Er sagte ihnen nicht, wer sonst mitkommen würde. Aber er machte klar, dass jeder Nachfolger etwas hinter sich verlassen müsste, um mit ihm zu gehen und gemeinsam etwas Neues zu entdecken.

Das heißt, die Nachfolger Jesu müssen immer neugierig sein und eine große und kreative Vorstellungskraft entwickeln.

Und so, gleich am Ende des Matthäusevangeliums sehen wir klar, dass sich die ersten Freunde von Jesus vor einer großen Herausforderung standen: nicht auf dem Berg zu bleiben, wo Jesus einmal war, sondern wieder den Berg hinunterzugehen, um durch eine veränderte Welt zu wandeln und auf sich eine neue Verantwortung aufzunehmen: zu entscheiden, was es bedeutet, als Leib Christi in der heutigen Welt zu leben.

Das heißt, die Kirche soll nichts anderes tun, als weiterhin der Leib Christi zu sein und das Evangelium weiterzusagen und damit zu erfüllen, was Jesus in Markus 1:14-15 schon getan hat, nämlich: die Menschen einzuladen, Gott zu sehen und Gott anders zu sehen – und sie dann eine Gemeinschaft von Menschen vorzustellen, die bereits gewagt haben, dies von sich aus zu tun, und die nun verpflichtet sind, es anderen zu ermöglichen, zu sehen, wie Gott ist und an wessen Seite man ihn finden kann. Anders gesagt: die Aufgabe der christlichen Kirche ist es, eine Gemeinschaft zu sein, in der sich die kreative Barmherzigkeit und Gnade, die versöhnende und heilende Liebe Gottes finden lässt. Und das sollten die Leute durch die Kirche erleben.

Ja, es gibt immer Beispiele von Christen, die in einer Weise reden und handeln, die Jesus' Prioritäten, wie wir sie in den Evangelien finden, nicht widerspiegelt. Man muss nicht allzu fest an der Oberfläche kratzen, um Unbeständigkeiten, Widersprüche, Schwächen und Fehler bei Christen wie mir oder in unseren Kirchen zu finden. Doch das sollte nicht überraschen. Schließlich erhebt die Kirche nicht den Anspruch, der Standort absolut beständigen Verhaltens und vollkommener Verwaltung der 'Wahrheit' zu sein. Auch wir sind nur Menschen, immer noch am Lernen, unser Verständnis ist immer noch unvollständig, und wir schaffen es immer noch, es tausend Mal im jeden Tag falsch zu machen. Aber die 'Linse' unserer Wahrnehmung wird immer noch neu geformt, und unsere Reise mit Jesus und seinen Freunden geht weiter.

Eines der bemerkenswerten Dinge an den Evangelien ist die Art, wie sie Jesus' Jünger beschreiben. Es waren ganz gewöhnliche Leute. Während sie mit Jesus reisten, stellten sie fest, dass sie anfingen, einen Blick auf Gottes Gegenwart unter ihnen zu erhaschen, wie Jesus es angedeutet hatte. Die Veränderung der theologischen Weltanschauung war radikal und brauchte Zeit. Doch Jesus verachtete seine Freunde nie wegen ihrer beschränkten Wahrnehmung, ihrer moralischen Verfehlungen oder ihres aufgeblähten Selbstverständnisses.

Stattdessen gab er ihnen den Raum und die Zeit, zu schauen und zu beobachten und zu sehen und zu berühren und zu denken und ihre Dummheiten auszusprechen – alles, ohne aus der Gruppe ausgestoßen zu werden. Ihre internen Streitigkeiten und Machtkämpfe wurden zwar angesprochen, wenn sie entbrannten, doch Jesus schien es nicht eilig zu haben, sofort Vollkommenheit von ihnen zu verlangen.

Also hier werden wir das Leben der Kirche finden – hier in alten oder frischen Ausdrücken von Kirche, wo es Menschen gibt, die zuerst Jünger von Jesus sind; Menschen, die sich bewusst von Jesus haben rufen lassen; Menschen, die am Auftrag der Kirche in der Welt beteiligt sind; Menschen, die bewusst den Leib Jesu Christi wachsen lassen und dazu beitragen, die Kirche aufzubauen, die Gaben der Christen zu identifizieren und zu entwickeln, und neue Christen zur Neugeburt zu bringen.

Ich möchte mit einer kurzen Geschichte zum Schluss kommen, um dich zu ermutigen.

Mike Yaconelli war Jugendarbeiter in Amerika bis zu seinem frühen Tod bei einem Autounfall vor einigen Jahren. Er hat ein Buch mit dem Titel Messy Spirituality veröffentlicht – auf Deutsch heißt es: Gott liebt Chaoten. Yaconelli war auch Pastor einer freien Baptistengemeinde und hatte immer Angst davor, dass er nicht gut genug sei, Pastor zu sein. In seinem Buch beschreibt er, wie jeder andere Pastor ein gutes, ordentliches und theologisch konsequentes Leben führt. Im Vergleich mit den anderen war Mike Yaconelli eine Katastrophe. Einmal hat er gesagt: “Ich bin Pastor einer wachsender Kirche – aber sie wächst immer kleiner.”

In diesem Buch erzählt Yaconelli einen Traum, den er nachts immer wieder hatte. In diesem Traum sitzt er in einem Zimmer mit vielen anderen Menschen. Plötzlich kommt Jesus herein. Jesus spricht eine Zeit lang mit ihnen, dann steht er auf, dreht sich um, deutet mit dem Finger auf ihn und sagt laut und klar – mit den Augen auf ihn gerichtet: “Komm, folge mir nach!” Yaconelli kann es kaum Glauben: Jesus hat ihn auserwählt. Er steht auf, bereit, Jesus überall hin in der Welt zu folgen. Dann dreht sich Jesus um und sagt: “Err… nein… es tut mir leid… ich meinte den Kerl hinter dir.”

Jesus macht das nie!

Wir sind dazu berufen, immer auf den wandelnden Gott zu vertrauen, mit Jesus zu gehen, nie zu fürchten, immer neugierig zu sein, und Kirche zu formen. Seid mutig!

Aber die elf Jünger gingen nach Galiläa auf den Berg, wohin Jesus sie beschieden hatte. Und als sie ihn sahen, fielen sie vor ihm nieder; einige aber zweifelten. Und Jesus trat herzu und sprach zu ihnen: Mir ist gegeben alle Gewalt im Himmel und auf Erden. Darum gehet hin und machet zu Jüngern alle Völker: Taufet sie auf den Namen des Vaters und des Sohnes und des Heiligen Geistes und lehret sie halten alles, was ich euch befohlen habe. Und siehe, ich bin bei euch alle Tage bis an der Welt Ende.

Und Jesus blieb stehen und sprach: Ruft ihn her! Und sie riefen den Blinden und sprachen zu ihm: Sei getrost, steh auf! Er ruft dich!

 

Posted with Blogsy

 

Changing the guard

Here in Hannover the talk is all about change. The conference Kirchehochzwei not only has nearly 1200 people attending today and tomorrow, but also is a feat of imaginative organisation. I seem to do a lot of stuff in Germany, but this one has been hugely challenging, stimulating and educative.

The great thing about being out of one's own culture is that you get to look through the lens of another – and then look differently at your own. Perspective changes and new insights are gained – a bit like changing the camera angle or lighting on a film or stage set.

The conference is aimed at opening up German Christians' thinking about how to address necessary change in how the church shapes itself in a changing world. Learning from some of the Fresh Expressions experiences in England, they now want to work out what this might look like in a German context that is simultaneously both similar and very different. Yesterday I saw three superb presentations about initiatives in Austria, Aachen and Erfurt: two of these were Roman Catholic. And that into to the really interesting thing about the nature of the conference itself: it is put on by both the Evangelical (Protestant) and Roman Catholic Churches in Niedersachsen, sponsored by both the bishops.

What is interesting about this is that the ecumenical nature of the event both raises and lowers the guard as critical questions are asked from every possible direction in the exploration of how the 'church' is to change and what changes are legitimate. In my various inputs I have been stressing the importance of 'order' in new forms of church – a bit like the clarity and creativity made possible by painting white lines on a tennis court, without which no game is possible, no creative play is feasible and all you can do is bang a ball around.

Plenary sessions this morning gave way this afternoon to workshops and seminars – hundreds of them. It is amazing to watch it happen. I had been asked to attend a theological workshop on so-called 'liquid church' at which Thomas Söding, a Roman Catholic academic New Testament scholar, presented a brilliant paper in which he took three images from the New Testament of crises in boats. The opening paragraph of his notes (my quick translation) says:

The New Testament is not a model kit for the ship that is the church; rather, it is a log book that establishes the story of its early journeys, a fuel station which fills and empowers it, and a GPS satnav by which it can navigate.

The concluding observations in his notes state:

[This conference] is St Peter's little ship on a great journey. Without a general overhaul and a new crew it will go down like the Titanic. But which renovations are needed and which crew selection is the right one, if the ship is not to sail under the wrong flag and is safely to reach its destination with its freight intact, is the master question.

Not a bad question to pose at the end of the week in which Pope Benedict announced his retirement. And the has been a lot of questioning here about what might happen next in the Roman Catholic Church under a new Pope.

Following questions and discussion from the audience, I was asked to make a few observations on the question of how to change the church in ways that are creative, yet consistent with the New Testament. In reply I noted how one contributor yesterday had said of his 'fresh expression of church' in Aachen, “For me it is an experiment,” and added that in my view “the church itself is an experiment”. Picking up on Tom Wright's notion of biblical history as a five-act play in which we are still writing he fifth act, I suggested that however creatively and innovatively we develop the plot, it must always be consistent with what has gone on in the first four acts. Furthermore (and clearly mixing my metaphors here), although we might find ourselves responsible for steering a new and uncharted course in today's sea, we must not lose sight of what it actually means to be a 'ship' in the first place.

There was loads more. It was interesting later to listen to a moderated conversation between the Protestant Bishop Ralf Meister and his Roman Catholic counterpart Norbert Trelle. They didn't duck any questions either – including the 'challenge' to both churches of how to 'celebrate' in Wittenberg in 2017, the 500th anniversary of the start of the Reformation.

In all this we have witnessed people changing the guards that protect them from discomfort or challenge. It is a very good thing.

Anyway, that's enough. I am giving the final address in the final plenary session tomorrow afternoon. I have been asked to inspire and encourage the thousand people there. No pressure there, then.

Then I go for dinner with friends before preaching (this time in English, fortunately) at an international service in Hannover on Sunday before catching a flight back to Bradford via Amsterdam.

 

Posted with Blogsy

 

Change changeth not…

OK, the Church of England appoints a new Archbishop of Canterbury and the Pope resigns. Coincidence? Of course! But that doesn't stop people speculating that the Pope's reasons for retiring must be anything other than those he has given. This is a conspiracy-theorist's dream.

Well, now the cacophony of advice aimed at the cardinals has already begun. What seems to be commonly agreed is that the Roman Catholic Church needs to change – although that's the easy bit: what that change looks like is the subject of bitter and contradictory disagreement. It was ever thus.

In a further coincidence I am en route to Hannover, Germany, to speak at an ecumenical conference on how the churches in Germany need to change to face a challenging new world. They – both Protestants and Roman Catholics – are keen to open up creativity in a culture that has assumed its place in German society for centuries, but now finds it harder. There are significant differences between the German churches and the English churches, but the Germans want to learn more from – and be inspired and encouraged by – initiatives such as Fresh Expressions, Liquid Church, and others. I am quite heavily involved in speaking and engaging in discussion at a pre-conference conference today, the main conference (with 1200 participants) tomorrow and Saturday, then preaching on Sunday morning before returning to Bradford.

(I am writing this at Schipol Airport in Amsterdam, having had a dreadful journey! I was supposed to fly from Leeds-Bradford to Amsterdam and then on to Hannover last night. It took three hours to drive the eight miles from home to Leeds-Bradford; the flight was delayed by three hours; I was put in a hotel in Amsterdam – getting three hours sleep – and now am waiting to board the flight to Hannover. This morning's meetings have been mucked up accordingly…)

It is always interesting to look at how a different culture deals with change. I am a close observer of the German churches, but they start from a different point from those in England. There are now some really interesting ad creative initiatives emerging and the seriousness with which these are being addressed in Germany is impressive.

I bring the mixed experience of England. Some 'fresh expressions' have failed, sometimes the rhetoric outstrips the reality, and sometimes they are just a way of 'doing what we want without the hassle of the bits of church we don't want to other with'. But, all in all, they have sparked an explosion of adventurousness, creativity and imaginative courage. On the other side, look at attempts to change the Church of England more substantially – for example, the Dioceses Commission proposals to dissolve three dioceses in West Yorkshire and create a new single diocese with five episcopal areas – and it becomes clear how, in some quarters, resistance to change prevents any creative engagement with either reality (look at the numbers, both people and money) or potential (taking responsibility for creating something new).

Change is always difficult, but difficulty is never an excuse for not changing. While looking though the German lens in the next few days I will also be reflecting from a distance on how change is faced in my part of England. Or not.

Posted with Blogsy

 

Facing reality

Yesterday was Remembrance Day (der Volkstrauertag) in Germany.

I left Erfurt on Sunday afternoon, having taken part in the morning service in the Predigerkirche. This is where Meister Eckhart was the prior, and you can still touch the wood that he touched when leading his Dominican monks in worship here in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth century.

The service was packed – loads of young families with loads of children, elderly people, and everything in-between. The Lektorin who preached was excellent. I just brought a Grußwort at the beginning of the service, then enjoyed the rest of it without responsibility.

It's always instructive to share in someone else's memory. The poignant-yet-triumphant patriotism that sometimes characterises Remembrance Day events in England was entirely absent. Not only is Volkstrauertag for remembering the dead and the fallen in war, but it is also for rehearsing what caused war in the first place.

No romanticism, then, in the place where Hitler did his worst – and even the Roman Catholic Cathedral still has a wooden carving in the chancel of a Christian crusader knight on his horse fighting (and defeating) a Jew riding a pig. No sanitising of history here in order to shape a different – or more convenient – narrative. No hiding behind fantasy from the shocking consequences of conventional inhumanity or fearful silence.

I was reminded of a line from RS Thomas's poem The Evacuee: “… she leaped from a scorched story of the charred past”.

The other place that brings this home is outside the Stadtkirche in Wittenberg. This is the town where in 1517 Martin Luther allegedly nailed his 95 Theses to the door of the Schlosskirche, thus igniting what became the Reformation. This is where the grace of God was found and proclaimed… and where the Stadtkirche still has built into its exterior (just below the eaves of the south-east end) a relief of Jews being baited in a pig sty. It could have been removed as an offence – and this was considered at the time it was rediscovered after German reunification when buildings neglected by the soulless DDR were being renovated in the 1990s. But, it was kept as a reminder that history cannot simply be removed in order to temper our contemporary sensibilities… and beneath it was placed a permanent memorial to the Jews of Wittenberg who experienced a more contemporary form of the old brutality.

Sitting there in Meister Eckhart's church yesterday morning another German memory revived in my mind. In 1999 I stayed for five weeks with German friends in Jakarta, Indonesia. While there I was taken on a trip through Bandung and other places. Up in the hills one day we drove for miles, visiting a tea plantation and then heading up into the terraced hills. Way off the beaten track we came to a small settlement in the middle of nowhere and I had no idea why we were there.

A short walk led us to a small cemetery containing (if I remember accurately) just half a dozen European-style graves. The story goes that during the Second World War a group of German soldiers was posted here. When the war ended, so ashamed were they of what had been done both by them and in their name, that they decided not to return immediately to Germany, but to stay and serve that small community of Indonesians. They all died of diseases fairly quickly and they are all buried here. The German Government pays for the upkeep of this small piece of earth that is pregnant with both the sadness and generosity of humanity.

Everywhere there is a story to be told and a story to be heard. And often the heard story will challenge the prejudices, preoccupations and absolutisms we nurture when confined to the familiar and the assumed.

The final bit of memory on Sunday actually arose the previous day. I was shown round the Roman Catholic Cathedral and the Severikirche by the Dompropst. The Severikirche contains the tomb and relics of St Severus who was elected Bishop of Ravenna in 342AD. Two things struck me whilst standing before the tomb: (a) there is a clear relief showing the Holy Spirit sitting on the head of Severus, identifying him as the one chosen by God to be bishop; and (b) atop the tomb the reclining figures of Severus, his wife and his daughter.

Think about it. (I asked the Dompropst what the Pope thinks about the great saint-bishop having been a married father and still chosen by God and the church to be a bishop. This led to an interesting conversation – for which I am very grateful – about the nature of priestly ministry, celibacy and other matters close to the church both here and there.)

(And then I got my highest ever score for my fantasy league football team…)

 

Posted with Blogsy