This is the text of my Presidential Address to the Leeds Diocesan Synod this morning. (Disclaimer: I wrote it last night at Berlin Tegel and Amsterdam Schipol airports on my way home from an academic conference in Wittenberg, Germany.)

I returned late last night from Wittenberg in Germany. I was there to present a paper at a conference on Faith, Theology and the Church (from Tuesday to Thursday) and then record a programme for BBC Radio 4 on Martin Luther and the Reformation. Having launched the Reformation jubilee last October, preaching in the Augustinerklosterkirche in Erfurt where Luther was a monk, it was a privilege to end the year in Wittenberg where it all kicked off. As everyone knows, 31 October 2017 is the 500th anniversary of the day when Luther is alleged to have nailed his 95 Theses to the door of the Schloßkirche, thus challenging the Pope and the Church to address some serious concerns about both theology and the practices of the church.

Many of the stories of Luther’s words and deeds are now of dubious provenance. There is no record of him having told the Emperor at the Diet of Worms: “here I stand; I can do no other”. (Which hasn’t deterred sock manufacturers from producing huge numbers of their products with the phrase added. I might bear the weight of one’s foot, but it doesn’t seem to bear the weight of history. In fact, there is no evidence that he did actually nail his 95 Theses to the church door – something impossible now because the doors are made of bronze.

Martin Luther’s tomb

But, why let facts get in the way of a good story. Whatever the details of who did what and when, we do know for certain that Luther took his life in his hands when he dared to suggest that the grace of God is there for everyone and cannot be bought – even in the good cause of building St Peter’s in Rome. Fear of the consequences of death were trounced by the mercy of God.

Sitting in the Schloßkirche yesterday morning, looking at Luther’s tomb, I was very conscious that we can’t always control the consequences of the decisions we make. The monk of Erfurt changed the world in ways he could never have imagined when he found Paul’s letter to the Romans opening his heart and mind to the riches of God’s unmerited love. Not only a revolution in the church, but political ructions, too, that too often led to bloodshed on a huge scale. I wonder what he would have made of it today, if he had known what he was about to unleash.

This is not insignificant for us here in the Diocese of Leeds. After giving my paper at the conference on Thursday, I took part in a panel discussion with the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Berlin and the head of the Protestant Church in Germany (the EKD),where both the divisions and affinities of ecumenical relationships were visible. As the church faces big challenges in British and wider European cultures, the need for Christians to prioritise their common baptismal discipleship over their denominational commitments becomes more urgent.

On of the watchwords of the Reformation traditions is ‘ecclesia semper reformanda’ – the Church needing constantly to be being renewed and reformed. Nothing stands still in this world. And the church can be no exception. Change is here to stay.

It would be ludicrously absurd to compare the changes our diocese has gone through in the last three and a half years with the enormity of the Reformation, but we need no telling that change brings pain as well as opening up new opportunities for those who are unafraid to explore them. And not every outcome can be predicted. As Luther found out – and it caused him a whole new set of griefs and concerns – there is the small matter of the Law of Unintended Consequences.

Our diocese continues to change as we move on from the initial phase of our creation from 2014 to 2016. We are now functioning as a single diocese with a single administration, and we are now clear about where we are in terms of shaping support for clergy and parishes as they ‘do’ our mission and ministry locally. But, this has all taken place at a time when the church across the country is facing a hefty drop in the number of stipendiary ordained people during the next fifteen years. This inevitably means that we will need to re-shape not only where we deploy our clergy, but the nature of the role, too. A priest cannot do in six parishes what he or she did in one. And we cannot put clergy into jobs that are not do-able.

In other words, we have a lot of work to do in the next few years. We do so in the face of financial challenges, too, but our primary focus has to be on what sort of ministry and mission we can provide within the constraints over which we do not have complete (or any) control. Now, is this a cause for fear or concern? Well, yes and no. We need to be concerned enough to tackle the challenges head on and pay attention to the detail – understanding the cost of growth as well as the benefits. But, we need not fear. We are engaged in God’s mission, and must never lose track of the bigger picture of God’s transforming grace, his call to keep moving – with him – and to be faithful to him and each other.

Clearly, if our models of ministry are to change, then they will involve re-focusing the attention of clergy and reimagining the role of lay people. Now, let’s get away from some of the moany stuff we keep hearing. Clergy exist for the sake of the laity, not the other way around. That will not change, but, the way we do ministry and mission will look different in the future. This is not about power or rights or means of self-fulfilment; rather, it is about identifying the gifts and vocation of all baptised people, developing and deploying those gifts for the sake of the church … which exists for the sake of the world.

But, the primary calling of lay people is not to do stuff in and for the church, but to be disciples of Jesus Christ out there in the world. One of the recognised challenges of the church in more recent years has been that lay vocation has too often focused on lay ministries in the church – largely liturgical or pastoral. This is something we need to tackle as we move into the future. Discipleship first.

To this end we are holding a Lay Conference in Harrogate on Saturday 9 June 2018. More details will be forthcoming soon, but planning is well underway under the guidance of Andrew Norman and Hayley Matthews. This is intended to help us re-frame our strategy for lay discipleship and ministry into the future – although this will be a matter of process rather than event.

Nothing of what we do can be done in isolation. On today’s agenda this Synod will address several matters that, together, help us discipline our development and mission. Asking the General Synod to change the name of the See of Richmond to Kirkstall is not a whim or a bit of ecclesiastical fancy; no, it is to enable those outside the church in the Leeds Episcopal Area (particularly) to identify with the area bishop and our church structure. People assume Richmond is up north and can’t see why the Bishop of Richmond is bothered with the city of Leeds. For the sake of our ongoing mission we need to change this. More later, but I want at this point simply to locate this agenda item in our wider missional context.

A communications strategy for the diocese is not incidental. If we can’t communicate effectively in the world in which we now live, then we might as well just tend a long decline. We cannot address the lack of children and young people in our churches without engaging with social media and a way of relating/communicating that is a million miles away from what I grew up with. Do we have the courage to grasp this nettle and learn a new language of evangelism and pastoral care? That is the question – along with: are we willing to put resources into making effective communications and changing the rumour about God and the church?

Rules about synod elections and sizes of synods might not be the stuff of romance, but they matter. It is vital that our synods – at every level – should drive and enhance our mission … and for that we need people – in the right numbers and variety – who are caught up by a vision of the kingdom of God that grabs popular attention, awakens curiosity, draws people in from being met outside on their territory and in their terms. Are we up for this? It isn’t easy, and it will mean sacrifice; but, we need younger energy and vision to challenge us and drag us into new ways of being a renewed and reformed church in this part of Yorkshire.

Again, this is not for the sake of the church’s organisation or own well-being. Yorkshire faces massive challenges in the wake of Brexit (however that might ultimately look…), but also in terms of its own political organisation. Westminster seems to have a view of how Yorkshire might be governed in the future (under its devolution proposals), but how do we want to help drive this for the sake of the common good of the people of Yorkshire? Do we want to be stuck in the past, with old enmities and thinking within old white lines, or can we be bold about developing a vision of and strategy for a Yorkshire that makes the most of the Northern Powerhouse – whatever that means?

What I am driving at here is that we should not be a church that merely responds to the initiatives of others, but be creative ourselves at fostering debate and proposition that, rooted in our traditions, offers a refreshed view of future potential.

Of course, this is all stuff and nonsense if we would prefer to just keep turning the handle. In the diocese we have proved that, even where we might have differing degrees of affection for the diocese we have shaped, we can commit ourselves to it as mature adults who follow Jesus Christ.

At this point I want to pay special thanks to the Dean of Wakefield, Jonathan Greener, who will leave the diocese in November and be installed as Dean of Exeter. Jonathan vigorously opposed the creation of the new diocese, but, since its creation, has been an excellent friend and colleague, a creative and imaginative shaper of new things (three cathedrals and three deans in a single diocese), and a brave contributor to all we have done. We owe him a huge debt. Personally, I will miss him, his wisdom and advice, even his humour. But, we wish him God’s richest blessing and the fullness of the Spirit’s gifts as he and Pamela move into a not-unchallenging situation in Exeter. They go with our love, gratitude and prayers.

So, let me conclude where we began – with Martin Luther. While sitting with three young Germans in the very room in Luther’s house in Wittenberg, around the table where he and his friends argued about theology, politics, beer and bodily functions (I kid you not), having our own feisty debate about the meaning of Luther’s theology now, we felt close to the heart of passion: the passion that is courageous, contagious, irritating, maybe even hopeful – maybe even the passion for Jesus Christ, his grace and mercy, his call to us and his friends to love one another as he loves us.

Why on earth do religious events that happened abroad five hundred years ago have any significance for today’s world? Or for the church? Remember, France and Italy worked hard to omit any reference to the Christian history of Europe from the preamble to the Lisbon Treaty – purely for ideological reasons. How stupid can intelligent people get? You don’t have to sympathise with that history, but to write it out looks suspiciously like blanking Trotsky from the photos.

Well, I am in Wittenberg for an academic conference that goes with the exciting title of Faith and Theology: Basic Insights of the Reformation in Ecumenical Debate. Theologians from around the world have come together to explore from different perspectives how the legacy of the Lutheran Reformation speaks into the situation faced by the church today. In fact, after two introductory lectures – which demonstrated immediately the different cultural approaches to theological method in Germany and the USA – we broke into groups to consider the necessary contextualisation of faith and theology. My group heard from a Brazilian and an Indian who teaches in Australia.

One of the concerns that runs though the conference is a worrying tendency to relegate rigorous academic theological thinking and research into the realms of private interest and out of the world of public truth. In short, faith needs the critical distance and hard thinking of theology, whilst theology has no point if it is not rooted in commitment to what that theology addresses.

Tomorrow morning we will pray together in the Schlosskirche, onto whose doors Martin Luther allegedly nailed his 95 Theses on 31 October 1517. Later we shall explore questions of faith, theology and exegesis, followed later with consideration of faith, theology and human action. We then continue into Thursday when the conference will end with papers on the ecumenical challenges presented by the Roman Catholic Archbishop of Berlin, the Ratsvorsitzende of the EKD, and me.

If it doesn’t sound very exciting, all I can say is: you have to be here. It is intellectually stimulating, theologically challenging, and the people are really nice to know.

The excellent Bishop of Hannover, Ralf Meister, delivered a brief ‘greeting’ on behalf of the Evangelischer Kirche in Deutschland (EKD) and ecumenical guests at the recent meeting of the General Synod of the Church of England in York. The bishop is also the newly-appointed German co-chair of the Meissen Commission, so I look forward hugely to working with him (as the English co-chair) in the next few years. The text of his address, coming in the light of the decision by the UK to leave the European Union, follows:

 

It is a great honour to attend this General Synod of the Church of England and to convey to you today the cordial greetings of the Evangelical Church in Germany.

I bring to you the greetings of the Council of the EKD, by the chairman of the council Bishop Professor Heinrich Bedford-Strohm,

the greetings of the plenary church conference and the presidium of the Synod, personally from the chair of the presidium Mrs. Schwätzer.

When I give you my regards as the Bishop of Hannover, there is a common bond between us. Because King Georg I. was King of Great Britain and Ireland from 1714 and ruler of the Duchy and Electorate of Brunswick-Lüneburg (Kingdom of Hanover).

You come together in turbulent times. I’m aware that the decision in Great Britain for the Brexit is a national democratic decision, but with due respect for that, it has an enormous impact on the international, especially the European Situation and for Germany as well.

Please allow me to make short remarks about the new fragile European situation and our responsibility as Christians.

First: I was irritated, that the main reaction in Germany about the Brexit was a discussion about the financial and economic consequences of this referendum. The European dream is a dream of humanity and justice and not the question whether the stock-exchange is placed in London or in Frankfurt or about the future of the single market. But most important: The idea of Europe is based on shared values and peace.

Recently we remembered the Battle of Somme in 1916.

When we look for some voices, which proclaim a European perspective rooted in Christian values, we find this voice in words and music from your nation: in the War Requiem from Benjamin Britten with the poetry from Wilfred Owen. Owen fought in the war zone of Somme and died in 1918: “My subject is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry is in the pity. […] All a poet can do today is warn.” Owen spoke as a Christian. What a strong sign of hope and reconciliation it was, when the War Requiem was first performed in the cathedral of Coventry in 1962. It will be the Christian charge, to warn of a separated Europe – in all the tendencies for a new nationalism and the modern attraction of political populists. A Europe split in gated national communities will undermine a common period of social, economic, cultural and peaceful welfare in Europe.

But the duty for the churches in Europe is not only to warn, but to give our people the hope, that the liberation in God’s grace will be the condition for a profound understanding of freedom, justice and peace.

Second:

We in the EKD are on the way to celebrate the Jubilee of the Reformation in 2017. It will be the first jubilee in 500 years, which we celebrate in a deep ecumenical understanding with other denominations parallel to a fruitful interreligious dialog with Jews and Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Sikhs and others. So we realise, that “the reformation is a world citizen”. It interconnects us in a strong line with Christians all over the world.

The Meissen-Agreement states: „We will take steps to closer fellowship in as many areas as possible, so that all our members together may advance on the way to full visible unity.“

This is an ecumenical sentence, first for us and our churches. This is a sentence of faith and of hope. But this is also a strong political proclamation for our worldwide responsibility as Christians; a responsibility to take the challenges of the modern, complex and anxious world as an invitation from God himself to work for his creation.

In this world, “right” answers are not easily found. But we have the task to witness our belief in God to practice tolerance and to engage in difficult dialogues.

Christianity has a history of interdenominational persecutions, discriminations, violence and war. We know, that it took centuries to come from “conflict to communion” and live in “reconciled difference”. May we owe our countries the story of the long way to the house of our neighbours? We owe our people the story of tolerance and acceptance, of respect and dialogue, of reconciliation and peace in the light of the gospel.

We need a strong common narration of Europe in which our Christian experiences are still decisive.

Christians are resilient and resistant people. We are strengthened in the hope from the creator of heaven and earth.

The liberating message of the gospel was in the midst of the reformation. We listen to that message in different contexts and exciting times, like these troubling days in Europe.

The reformation was a catalyst for a new understanding of the church’s role in society. In that tradition we stand. In England as well as in Germany, in the Anglican Church as well as in the Evangelical Church in Germany.

Let me end with a word from the protestant theologian and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer from his “Letters and Papers from Prison”:

“Choose and do what is right, not what fancy takes,

Not weighing the possibilities, but bravely grasping the real,
Not in the flight of ideas, but only in action is there freedom.
Come away from your anxious hesitations into the storm of events,
Carried by God’s command and your faith alone.
Then freedom will embrace your spirit with rejoicing.”

(Widerstand und Ergebung, DBW, Bd 8, S.571)

God bless your synod.

I am in York for the General Synod of the Church of England – a session that lasts from this afternoon until next Tuesday. The agenda was varied in order to allow for a debate on a motion proposed by the Archbishop of Canterbury in the wake of the EU Referendum. The Synod was encouraged by the Archbishop to look forward, not back.

I stood throughout the substantive debate, but was not called to speak – a little odd and frustrating given that I lead on Europe for the bishops in the House of Lords and chair the Meissen Commission, whose new German co-chair (Landesbischof Ralf Meister of Hanover) had just addressed the Synod.

Much of the debate was good, some was predictable. What was obvious, however, was how few of the ills attributed to the decision by 17million people to vote to leave the EU actually have/had nothing whatsoever to do with the EU. At some point this has to be named. If people wanted to express alienation for the political discourse or protest at the behaviour of Westminster, then the EU should not have been the target.

That said, the vote is a fact on the ground and we now need to get on with the consequences of the result.

Had I spoken in the debate I would have drawn attention back to a less introspective place. The European project had distinctively Christian origins and emerged from a Christian-driven post-war drive to create relationships that would prevent intra-European conflict in the future. Schumann did not dream up his vision from nowhere. So, the debate going forward has to do not only with economics, markets, jobs and currency values, but also with culture, education, hope and integration.

It is not insignificant that a group of German and British Christians exchanged visits as Europe “sleepwalked” (Christopher Clark) its way towards what was to be the First World War. As the world collapsed around them within a few years, the relationships continued. Enemies knew that they were friends because they were untitled by the cross and resurrection of Christ. In the run-up to what became the Second World War it was also relationships between Christians that held while the nationalisms screamed their allegiances. It wasn't just Bishop George Bell and Dietrich Bonhoeffer who kept the fires of love burning amid the conflagration of an 'Enlightened' continent.

So, in looking forward to what might come next for the UK and its place in Europe (if not in the EU), we might just learn from such a brief look back. It is the relationships that matter. And they matter more now, perhaps, than they did three weeks ago.

Church of England dioceses often have strong partnerships with Anglican dioceses around the world – often in exotic or 'other' places. Quite right, too, and very important. Trying to get links with European dioceses has proved more difficult because there is an assumption that “they” don't need us and, anyway, we know them already. But, this is simply wrong. There has never been a greater need for us to build strong relationships and partnerships with European Christians and churches than there is today. It is the relationships that sustain when everything else collapses – and the future of Europe looks more fragile today than it did just a few weeks ago.

I would say this, wouldn't I? After all, I am a europhile. I speak several European languages. I have strong friendships across Europe. I co-chair a European ecumenical body (the Meissen Commission). But, at risk of repetition, I say:

  • Now is not the time to diminish our investment in European ecumenical work, but to grow it.
  • Now is the time to create, build and strengthen sustainable relationships with European churches and Christians.
  • Now is not the time to look just at what is happening in our own islands, but to look through the lens of those on the continental mainland.
  • Now is the time to ask what we can contribute to the future of Europe and not just what we can gain from it (or from leaving the EU).
  • Now is the time to do the step-by-step, hard work of building relationships and making reconciliation a reality – not just in the divided communities of the UK, but also across the continent.

 

We have just spent two days in the far north of Sri Lanka. This is where the civil war saw its bloody conclusions in Jaffna in 1995 and Kilinochchi only five years ago.

Having met a range of civic and Christian leaders in Jaffna and heard their stories, the tragedy of that civil war is etched in the ruins of homes and the lives that were torn apart in them. The scars of war cannot be avoided – the destruction and all it represents is there to see. And, as the Bishop of Colombo said, the enormity is hinted at when you walk into random ruins and find the remains of a child's doll. A family died there. Probably someone else's war.

This isn't the time or place to go into the nature of the conflict itself. But, the Church of Ceylon (which we are visiting for the first time) exercises its ministry of reconciliation in the conflicted context of the war's aftermath. And its stress is not on working for justice for one side or one community or one language/ethnic group; rather, its concern is to establish justice for all and bring healing to the whole country.

Like the church in most places, this work is done mostly on the quiet – often under the radar. Not all good and effective work is done through a microphone, but in the hidden business of bringing people together, creating the space for a different sort of conversation with a different sort of vocabulary.

I am only a few days into this visit – and have an explosion of images, sounds and stories in my mind – and will continue to think around it all. Today's judgments might well be challenged by tomorrow's experience or the weekend's encounters. So, I continue to listen and look and learn.

Yet, at the heart of it all is that universal conundrum that struggles to hold together the beauty and the violence of human beings, the glory and the evil of human passion, the power and weakness of hope in the face of destructiveness.

Given my connections with Germany and the Evangelische Kirche in Deutschland, where Bell is seen as a hero, this is also the conundrum that emerges today from the announcement of Bishop George Bell's sexual abuse crime. Inexcusable and appalling – not only the abuse itself, but also the way it was ignored by the Church of England for so long – Bell's reputation is destroyed. But, what, then, do we do with the courage he showed during the Second World War in supporting Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the resistance movement in and outside Germany itself, and questioning the moral basis of the Allied bombing of civilians in cities like Dresden?

I am not sure how we deal with this. Is it possible to damn the abusing bishop while admiring the courageous defender of the oppressed and the builder of peace?

How we answer this question will say something not just about Bell, but also about us.

And, like the survivors of the civil war in Sri Lanka, the survivor(s) of Bell's abuse, the effects of the crime cannot be expunged by some later compensation. We can only trust that truth is the path to peace.

 

I am in Liverpool to chair the Meissen Commission for four days. This Commission brings together the Church of England and the Evangelische Kirche in Deutschland. We meet annually, alternately in Germany or England.

It is inevitable, perhaps, that the constant backdrop to our conversations is our common history in Europe. And behind it all is the question of who we think we are based on where we have come from.

This is a question I addressed in a blog post for Reimagining Europe and can be found here.

The spiritual leaders (bishops of the Landeskirchen) of the Evangelische Kirche in Deutschland has today published a statement in response to the challenges posed by mass migration and the current refugee crisis. The English text can now be read here. The press notice can be read here, and the link to the signed statement is at the bottom:

The statement reads as follows:

Zur aktuellen Situation der Flüchtlinge Eine Erklärung der Leitenden Geistlichen der evangelischen Landeskirchen Deutschlands

„Wie köstlich ist deine Güte, Gott, dass Menschenkinder unter dem Schatten deiner Flügel Zuflucht haben!” (Psalm 36, 8)

1 Gott liebt alle seine Geschöpfe und will ihnen Nahrung, Auskommen und Wohnung auf dieser Erde geben. Wir sehen mit Sorge, dass diese guten Gaben Gottes Millionen von Menschen verwehrt sind. Hunger, Verfolgung und Gewalt bedrücken sie. Viele von ihnen befinden sich auf der Flucht. So stehen sie auch vor den Toren Europas und Deutschlands. Sie willkommen zu heißen, aufzunehmen und ihnen das zukommen zu lassen, was Gott allen Menschen zugedacht hat, ist ein Gebot der Humanität und für uns ein Gebot christlicher Verantwortung.

2 Der Mensch steht im Mittelpunkt aller Bemühungen. Viele Menschen sindweltweit auf der Flucht. Die große Herausforderung besteht darin, jedem Einzelnen gerecht zu werden. In ihrer Not begeben sich Menschen auf der Flucht in Lebensgefahr. Es ist humanitäre Pflicht, alles zu tun, um Menschen aus Seenot und vor anderen Gefahren zu retten. Gegen menschenverachtende Schlepperbanden und mafiöse Strukturen innerhalb und außerhalb Europas muss mit polizeilichen Mitteln vorgegangen werden. Die wirksamsten Maßnahmen gegen die Gefahren auf der Flucht bestehen in legalen Zugangswegen nach Europa. Wir fordern deshalb legale Wege für Schutzsuchende und begrüßen Diskussionen über ein Einwanderungsgesetz, das neue Zuwanderungsmöglichkeiten für Menschen auf der Suche nach Arbeit und einem besseren Leben eröffnet.

3 Unsere Gesellschaft steht vor einer großen Herausforderung, aber auch unsere Kräfte sind groß. Wir sind dankbar für die vielfältige Hilfsbereitschaft! Allen, die ehrenamtlich oder beruflich, aus Kirche, Zivilgesellschaft, Staat und Politik helfen, eine Willkommenskultur zu leben und mit einem beispiellosen Einsatz für die schnelle und menschenwürdige Aufnahme und Unterbringung von Flüchtlingen zu sorgen, danken wir von ganzem Herzen! Mit Entschiedenheit wenden wir uns gegen alle Formen von Fremdenfeindlichkeit, Hass oder Rassismus und gegen alles, was eine menschenfeindliche Haltung unterstützt oder salonfähig macht. Sorgen und Angst vor Überforderung müssen ernst genommen werden, dürfen aber nicht für menschenfeindliche Stimmungen missbraucht werden.

4 Als Kirche prägen wir das Zusammenleben in dieser Gesellschaft mit. Daher treten wir dafür ein, gelebte Willkommenskultur und die damit verbundene Integration zu einer zentralen Aufgabe unserer Gemeinden und Einrichtungen zu machen.

5 Mit Sorge sehen wir die Hintergründe und Ursachen der Flüchtlingsbewegungen: Klimaveränderungen, Kriege, Verfolgung, Zusammenbruch staatlicher Gewalt, extreme Armut. In diese Fluchtursachen ist auch unsere Gesellschaft vielfältig durch globale Handelsbeziehungen, Waffenlieferungen und nicht zuletzt durch einen Lebensstil, der die Ressourcen der Erde verbraucht, zutiefst verwickelt. Eine Umkehr von diesen ungerechten Verhältnissen ist an der Zeit.

6 Uns in Deutschland ist aufgrund unserer Geschichte in besonderer Weise bewusst, welches Geschenk es ist, Hilfe in der Not und offene Türen zu finden. Ohne die Hilfe, die uns selber zu Teil geworden ist, wären wir heute nicht in der Lage, mit unseren Kräften anderen zu helfen. Wir als Leitende Geistliche wollen uns dafür einsetzen, dass Europa jetzt gemeinsam handelt und seinen humanitären Verpflichtungen gemeinschaftlich nachkommt. In der Gewissheit, dass Menschen unter Gottes Flügeln Zuflucht haben, bringen wir die Not aller Menschen in unseren Gebeten vor Gott und bitten ihn um Kraft für die vor uns liegenden Aufgaben.

The EKD previously pubished a helpful statement here on the refugee challenge (9 September) in Europe and it helpfully contains links to other church/Christian statements.

The World Council of Churches has published the following statement:

Today the countries of Europe are confronted with the worst refugee crisis since the Second World War. But compassion and action seem to be tragically insufficient to meet the pressing need. This is so despite the tragedies reported daily from the shores and borders of Europe – let alone from the countries from which these people have been forced to flee by conflict, oppression and extreme poverty.

It is now absolutely and critically necessary that all European states take their proper responsibility in terms of reception and support for people seeking refuge, safety and a better future for themselves and their families. This cannot be left only to the states where they enter first.

Taking responsibility for human beings in desperate need must be done without discrimination on any criteria other than their needs. We are shocked to hear of some countries rejecting refugees on the basis of their religion.

Today, Europe – both West and East – is being tested on the strength of its commitment to human dignity and rights. This is a test of our human values and Christian legacy.

Some churches are taking a lot of responsibility in this situation, even beyond their capacities. WCC member churches in many of the affected countries are providing support to refugees and migrants, and raising the awareness of their congregations and state authorities to the need for a compassionate response, in spite of limited resources and of their own difficulties. The WCC encourages churches in countries of arrival, transit and ultimate destination in their efforts to welcome the stranger, and to model a compassionate response to people in such desperate need. We need ecumenical cooperation in these efforts, in order to ensure that they make the greatest possible contribution to alleviating this terrible suffering.

The WCC and its member churches’ commitment to supporting refugees and displaced people is part of its original condition and calling. When the World Council of Churches came into existence in 1948, the disastrous humanitarian impacts of the Second World War were still a very present reality. The international community was still struggling to cope with the massive population displacements caused by conflict and crimes against humanity. Churches and their specialized ministries were key actors in the humanitarian response to this unprecedented suffering, and have continued to be in the forefront of assisting refugees and immigrants, from emergency relief to long-term support.

This commitment is shown in many parts of the world also today. During these last days I have seen how the churches in Latin America are responding to the situation of migrants and internally displaced people in their own contexts.

The WCC continues to challenge churches worldwide to rediscover their identity, their integrity and their vocation as the church of the stranger. For we are the Church of Jesus Christ, the child refugee (cf. Mathew 2:13).

“I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in.” Matthew 25:35.

How things have changed.
It is a week ago that I headed off to Stuttgart for the Kirchentag – the amazing conference put on across a German city every two years. I have been going for a while and it gets ever better. In 2013 in Hamburg I was invited to preach at the closing service: a congregation of 130,000 and televised nationally. This time I was asked (among other events) to take part in a conversation with Kofi Annan (former Secretary General of the United Nations) and the German Foreign Minister Frank-Walter Steinmeier. The theme of the two-hour discussion: ‘The world is spinning out of control’.

Actually, I was not really needed in this discussion. Like the audience of ten thousand in the huge arena, I really wanted to listen to the two stars discussing what is going on in the world – in the hope of learning something. I did learn, and they deserved the standing ovation at the end. (I was also uncomfortable, though, because I went straight off to hospital after the event to be told I had an “atypical pneumonia” (chest and throat infection) and had to stop. No wonder I wasn’t firing on all cylinders.)

Introduced by the excellent moderator, television journalist Arnd Henze, Steinmeier began with the sort of intelligent paper to be expected from a serious German politician. One of his basic points was that Germany’s behaviour in the twentieth century had caused the world to spin out of control and that Germany now had to take responsibility in the world – not standing back where there is need. He was realistic about the demands and expectations of solutions. Both principled and pragmatic, he passionately articulated the moral obligation to be engaged in the seemingly intractable conflicts and troubles of a changing world.

Having quoted the former Chancellor Willy Brandt, he asserted:

Heute, 32 Jahre nach Willy Brandts Rede ist diese Welt keineswegs friedlicher geworden. So lange ich denken kann, kann ich mich an keine Zeit erinnern, in der internationale Krisen in so großer Zahl an so vielen Orten gleichzeitig auf uns eingestürmt wären wie heute. (Today, 32 years after Willy Brandt’s speech, the world has not become at all more peaceful. As long as I can remember, I cannot think of any time when so many international crises in so many places have simultaneously piled in upon us.)

In his paper later, Kofi Annan wanted to put this into perspective, claiming that the world is a safer and better place today than it was in the past. Urging everybody – particularly the younger generations – to take their responsibility in leading peaceful change in the world (starting small and local), he demonstrated the patient pragmatism that made him able to lead the United Nations through previous crises. In the later discussion I tried to put this into perspective: only 75 years ago nearly 80 million people died in a global conflict – every generation faces its own crises and every generation fears it might be the last

Steinmeier, however, summed up the approach when he said:

Vieles hat sich verändert in diesen Jahren – die Aufgabe nicht. Die Aufgabe von Außenpolitik ist geblieben – wie Willy Brandt ohne jedes Pathos beschrieben hat, nämlich: dass illusionsfreie Bemühen, zur Lösung von Konflikten beizutragen. In einer streitbefangenen Welt voller Krisen und Konflikte, voller Missgunst und Hass, dem Frieden auf die Sprünge zu helfen. Und Frieden lässt sich nicht herbeiwünschen. Er entsteht nicht durch öffentliche Erklärungen; nicht einmal durch Resolutionen der UNO. Selbst die Frage, ob ich Recht habe ist unerheblich. Frieden will erarbeitet werden, meistens dann wenn das was man braucht zum Friedensschluss: Vertrauen, schon restlos ruiniert ist. Deshalb, wenn die Konfliktparteien nicht mehr zu einander kommen, dann kommt es auf Dritte an.

(Much has changed during these years – but the task has not. The task of foreign policy remains the same – as Willy Brandt described without any pathos: the illusion-free commitment to contribute to the resolution of conflicts; in a world of disputation, full of crises and conflicts, filled with resentment and hatred, to lend a hand to peace. And peace doesn’t just happen. It doesn’t come from public statements; not even from UN resolutions. Even the question whether I am right or not is irrelevant. Peace must be worked at, particularly when what is needed for a peaceful conclusion – trust – has already been totally destroyed. Therefore, when the conflicted parties cannot approach each other, that is the time when the Third Party comes onto the stage.)

My contribution was miniscule. But, despite the limitations of such a format, it was a privilege to be invited to take part in this discussion with people who are so deeply engaged in a world that I (and the churches) touch on mainly because of our deep international partnerships and links across the continents.

I began with a statement about how things have changed. This pertains mainly to the fact that I have blogged my way through previous Kirchentags – in order to give wider access to the riches experienced and heard there. These days there is little time for writing this blog – something I regret and hope one day to recover.

On the way to the Brocken with friends a couple of days ago, we drove through a village called Elend. Elend is the German word for 'misery'. There is a place nearby called Sorge – which translates into English as 'worry'. Who says the Germans don't have a sense of humour?

Well, humour has had to be tempered with real seriousness on day three of the Meissen Theological Conference at Arnoldshain. Two papers this morning tackled the contextual interplay of reconciliation, patriotism and memory. Ecumenical rapprochement between German and English churches takes place in a context of a century of conflict, theological compromise and an occasional dogged unity that national interest – even in times of war – cannot expunge.

Landesbischof Professor Dr Friedrich Weber, the soon-to-retire Bishop of Braunschweig and German co-chair of the Meissen Commission (I am the Anglican co-chair) reviewed the Meissen process since 1988 and asked hard questions about what has actually been achieved. He concluded with a statement by Michael Weinrich to the effect that “there is no lack of official declarations in the ecumenical movement, but there are dramatically fewer cases of reception”. In other words, statements are not backed up (or followed up) by action.

The same Professor Dr Weinrich, Professor of Systematic Theology (Ecumenics and Dogmatics) at the University of Bochum – and who is also a German member of the Meissen Commission – then expanded on the Weber discussion by presenting a paper of observations and reflections on the Meissen process thus far. His starting point about ecumenism is a heartening one: “… one must constantly evaluate whether the functions these criteria were originally designed to serve are being carried out.” In other words, is a process that began over twenty years ago still fit for purpose – or has it got distracted by its own internal dynamic and is now not doing the very thing for which it was set up.

This led him on to a discussion about how 'identity' can be shaped without having to have endless debates about that identity. Put crudely, it must be possible to create unity without constantly talking about what unity might look like. Of course, I am polarising to make the point – one does not exclude the other and both are necessary. But, two sentences go to the heart of Weinrich's concern: “It is possible … that down to earth Anglican pragmatism has established a beneficial boundary for the German zeal for systematisation… Given the background of the trust that has developed [in the Meissen process], it would be nonsensical to make the vitality of the church fellowship dependant on progress in ecclesiological questions.”

I cite this simply because the discussions that followed both Weber and Weinwich's papers led very quickly on to the place of our ecumenical relationship/conversations in the wider national agendas, especially in this significant year of memory: the centenary of the outbreak of the First World War. What is – or what should be – the role of the church in helping wider society 're-member' the events at the heart of progressive, technologically developed and Christianly-shaped Europe that tore the world apart in 1914? How might the church – with its language of and facility for symbolic act, repentant relationship and truthful speaking – create the space and place for a wider rehearsal of our common narrative? And how might the churches remind our wider (and sometimes conveniently and selectively amnesiac) societies of how, when the divisions seemed insuperable at the heart of conflict, many Christians refused to allow national boundaries and obligations expunge their deeper unity in Christ?

Now, this might sound a little arcane – the usual stuff of closed theological conferences that are enjoyable in themselves but do not translate into wider world-changing action – but the debate kept bringing us back to practicalities. Reconciliation is neither sentimental nor consequence-free. We will move on later to decide on practical recommendations for joint action this year and beyond as we reappropriate the narrative that has shaped us thus far. Questions about 'memory', ideology, patriotism and what today's generations consider to be the priorities (or touching places for questions of conflict, threat, fear, etc.) come to the fore. Faithfully remembering the past only has validity if what we learn can be applied to what we face now and how we might be in the future.

As Bonhoeffer would have said in the early 1930s as Nazism exploded into violent life, universal ethical principles are no substitute for 'choosing now' and taking responsibility for the ways we choose to be.

 

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!