This is the text of the sermon preached in Bradford Cathedral this morning (16 June 2013) by Sebastian Feydt, pastor of the Frauenkirche in Dresden, based on Luke 7:36-50.

Dear brothers and sisters, are we bound together by this biblical story? You as you are living here in Bradford and me who has come from Dresden?

Is Jesus talking to the Pharisees and the woman in a language which we all understand? If so, it must be the language of love. The language of peace. These languages we all understand.

And they connect us.

Because they reflect our longings: to be accepted and loved; to be able to take the next step in our lives freed from burden and guilt; to walk in peace. This longing for love and peace binds us together much more than many other things which were mentioned when Jesus, these men and the women met.

Self-righteous men who talk so much by themselves, who prejudge and judge so quickly other people – often women – still exist in today’s England or Germany as they existed in Jesus’ days.

That women are forced to sell their bodies in order to make a living – and that there are enough men who take advantage of it – this form of slavery goes back further than we can imagine. Prostitution is by no means the oldest business in the world, it is one of its oldest scourges. All recent efforts to make prostitution socially acceptable, to declare it a reasonable service in our modern society does not change the fact that love cannot be “made”, nor can it be bought. Wherever people try to, the language of love withers away. In the end it is muted.

Like the woman Jesus met: no sound passes her lips; she is out of words. Instead, her heart speaks. She pours it out by wetting Jesus’ feet with her tears.

I am touched by this thought.

This is not an everyday moment.

This is not a situation in which someone sheds a few tears out of anger. No, here we are confronted with an eruption of pain and despair and we find it hard to react in an appropriate manner. Just to put an arm around her shoulders to comfort her does not work – it didn’t work back then either. There is more going on than what could be healed by pity. This young woman is looking for a new life. She wants to be recognized as a person, to be addressed by her name and not to be reduced to her past.

This young woman at Jesus’ feet no longer wants to be mute and nameless. She wants to get up, straighten up, to finally start her true life.

Have you experienced such a moment in your lives as well? When it becomes obvious that life cannot go on the way it did any longer? Because the love there was between husband and wife or between partners had faded? Because the big dreams of a merry family did not come true? Because children left and loneliness moved in instead?

We all know times of crisis. We are no strangers to incurring guilt by ill-treating ourselves or others. It leaves us speechless, loveless, peaceless. And it raises our longing for being accepted and loved so that we can take the next step in our lives freed from burden and guilt.

And also to hear: Go and walk in peace.

By following her heart, the woman finds her way. She goes to where she knows she will be accepted: at the table at which she knows Jesus sits. There she gets on her knees. Humble she becomes. And she confesses her sins – to God. Without a word, but still comprehensively. In a way that has Jesus tell her: Your sins are forgiven.

If I want to confess the sins I committed in my life it’s not my mouth that needs to speak but my heart that has to bring it before God and the people. It takes a very special language to realize my guilt and the truth about me and my life and to bring it before God.

The woman speaks the language of love with her tears and her tender gestures. She experiences that she is being heeded and thus considered, accepted and thus admitted into society, acknowledged and thus appreciated. All that lies behind her is not going to build up anew in front of her. Neither she nor any of the other men can re-erect it. The way is clear. Jesus helped this woman to take that step.

This is what is meant by being freed: not FROM your past but WITH your past. I’m not free because I leave things behind but because I face them.

Thereupon Jesus grants the gift of forgiveness as the main precondition for reconciliation and for peace – Shalom. Goodness in our hearts and minds – and our lives. This nourishes the blessing

“Go and walk in peace!”

As Christians we can be peace messengers.

Does the world recognize us as such? As the ones who know how we can find peace?

– In ourselves.

– Together with others.

– Within society, between peoples?

Go and walk in peace!

What is it that connects us? It is the language of peace and light.

Let’s speak it! Here in Bradford. And in Dresden. In Afghanistan. In Mali. And when we ask what would do good to Syria …

Go and walk in peace.

Peace be with you!

This is going to be a great week.

Not only do we hit 'the longest day' – 21 June, midsummer's day – when I and colleagues will spend the whole day from 5am to 10pm walking in the diocese, visiting places, doing meetings, taking part in the Grassington Festival and meeting loads of rural people, but we also have a Clergy Study Day on Wednesday on 'change'. In the morning we have Ben Quash (Professor of Christianity and the Arts at Kings College London and Honorary Canon Theologian of Bradford Cathedral) leading us through 'a theology of change'; in the afternoon we have Sebastian Feydt (Pastor of the Frauenkirche in Dresden) telling his story of living through massive change between 1989 and today.

The Diocese of Bradford faces a decision by the General Synod on Monday 8 July on the proposals for dissolution of three dioceses and the creation of a new Diocese of West Yorkshire & the Dales. We have lived with this uncertainty about the future for the last three years or so. I was appointed as the Bishop over two years ago in order to take the diocese through this never-done-before process and build confidence for change. If the Synod votes against these proposals (which would be mad), we cannot go back to business as usual – there will still have to be change as we look to the future.

So, doing theology on Wednesday is intended to reinforce the theological framework in which and through which we see what is happening and shape our future with vision, courage and wisdom. Listening to a personal story of how a whole world (Communist East Germany) collapsed overnight and how individuals, churches and society coped with a whole new emerging world should (a) be dead interesting, (b) flesh out some of the theology we have been discussing, and (c) put diocesan reorganisation into some perspective.

Behind this lies a conviction that structures of themselves guarantee nothing; it is the imagination, vision, will and determination of people that effect change. And for this to happen we need to dare to think and see differently. Whatever decision the Synod makes in July, one thing is certain: mistakes will be made and elements of a new structure will be found wanting. The interesting bit, however, will be how those involved either engage with and own the 'new' or seek out the failings in order to say,”I told you so.”

Not for now, but there are some very interesting biblical associations with all of this.