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This morning, listening to the
radio, I was deeply depressed by an item where a reporter
accompanied a group of university girls on a night of binge
drinking in Newcastle. I wondered: is life really so
desperate that the only way out is to get 'ratted'? Is there
no other way? Then I thought, rather smugly perhaps, they
could try getting in touch with their spiritual selves. But
how would they do that? Who will help them? Keep that
question in your minds for the next few minutes. This past week, there came through our letterbox a copy of the Gospel of John and the letter to the Romans. It is in the language of the Authorised Version (or, as it says on the front, the King James Bible, thus betraying it's American source), and that means it's language is some 400 years old. I presume that I was not the only person in Dumfries to receive it. (Or was I? Perhaps the sender had been reading my sermons on the website, and felt that I am in need of salvation.) But it set me to think about the language we use as Christians, and whether such a well-meaning effort as this would cut any ice with people in 2005. What about those girls in Newcastle? We preachers use words and phrases which we have used all our lives, thinking that we and our listeners know what they mean, until we really sit down and give them some thought. Take today's gospel as an example. The phrase 'The Lamb of God' is one all Christians are familiar with, especially Episcopalians and Methodists. Sometimes in our Eucharistic services, the officiating presbyter will hold up a wafer and some wine, and say 'Behold the Lamb of God'. To a visitor from another planet, or even a visitor from the outside world of the church, that would seem to be a very strange thing to say, especially as a flat, white wafer and a beautiful silver chalice bear no resemblance whatsoever to a lamb of any description. The Christian faith has often been criticised for the use of obscure language. Whilst I can see what people are driving at when they make that criticism, I do not go along with it entirely. Yes, the mysteries of the faith need to be made as accessible as possible so that all can at least believe, if not fully understand. But there is also, as with any human organisation, a patois, a lingua franca, which one picks up the longer one is in that institution we call 'the church'. My Methodist forbears would have referred to it as 'the language of Canaan', meaning the language of the promised land, the language of the chosen people, and words like 'Hallelujah!' and 'Amen!' would have featured strongly. If you go to your local Golf Club, you will find there terminology which, to people like me, is obscure – talk of birdies and bogies, of eagles and niblicks, of mashies and drivers. If you are a golfer, you pick up these words gladly, even if it is only just to show that you know your game. Football is another example. It was ages before I realised what GERS meant. Some of you look blank too! So it is in the church of today. Our language has become much simplified over the years, of course, especially in the liturgy. (Now there's a word to conjure with! But of course you all know what it means, don't you?) Whilst I am first in line to admire the language of the 1662 Prayer Book, in the same way that I admire the language of Shakespeare, I do recognise also that it's language in 2005 is rather inaccessible. I would not advocate that the language of the contemporary theatre is authentic only if it is Shakespearian. Neither would I advocate that the language of the church should be Jacobean or even Elizabethan. The point I am making is simply this. We in the church have our own shorthand, which changes as time passes, and we do not really need to apologise for it unless it is truly inaccessible. Which leads me on to the point I want to draw out of today's gospel. Twice we heard the words John is reported as saying: 'Here is (or 'Behold') the Lamb of God.' He was talking about his cousin Jesus, of course, but what did he mean? It is such a common phrase in the church that we may think we know exactly what it means. John seems to indicate that this Lamb of God takes away the sin of the world, which is a clue. Let me give you a minute to ask you what you think it means….. Well, here are some suggestions. I shall say this only once. But you can read it on the website!:
So where are we? Where do we look? And anyway, how does the Lamb of God take away the sin of the world? (Think Handel's 'Messiah' again!) In the Book of the Revelation, we do read about a Lamb which was sacrificed for the redemption of humankind. That Lamb is also the divinely appointed ruler of God's people, and is all-victorious in his war against the enemies of God. That, to me, sounds like what I would call 'the Messiah'. Add to that the fact that the Book of the Revelation, and the Gospel of John, come from the same time and place, then we have a clue. Remember too that this gospel comes from a period around the beginning of the 2ndcentury. The church was by then already a eucharistic community, breaking bread on the 1stday of the week, having turned it's back on the Jewish 7thday. There are many references in John to the Eucharist, and it is quite likely that the connection with the Messiah, the Lamb of God of Revelation, was already being made in the weekly worship of the church. John the Baptist, as a Jew, worshipped in such a way as to deal with the sins of God's people. All the rites and ceremonies of the Pharisees, for example, were for that purpose – to keep the nation 'clean' if you like. So can we say that in Jesus, John saw the one who, as Messiah, was to deal with the sin of humankind, not just of the Jewish people, but as a universal Messiah, taking away the sin of the whole world. Do you believe that? Do you believe that the whole of humankind has been redeemed from bondage to sin, because of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus? Or do you believe the more popular, but I would say, erroneous version, that Jesus has only redeemed certain people: those who, as it were, 'sign up' to him? Has Jesus taken away the sin of the world, or only the sin of a few? Our task as Christians is to tell the world that it is redeemed, that everyone, whatever their colour, race or creed, has in fact been redeemed. You know it is true. But what about your neighbour? Does your neighbour know that? You need to think very carefully. For if the Lamb of God is indeed he who takes away the sin of the world, then that must apply not only to your neighbour, but also to people of all faiths and none. What are the implications of that? If I ever get the chance to run that course on other faiths and fundamentalism, then perhaps we could look at it in more depth. My 'guru' when I was a theological student in London was a Baptist minister, the late Howard Williams. He used to say that when he gets to the Pearly Gates, he expects God to say to him: “Where is your neighbour?” How would you respond? Think of those girls in Newcastle. |