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Thanks be to Thee, my Lord Jesus Christ
For all the benefits Thou hast given me,
For all the pains and insults Thou hast borne for me.
O most merciful
Redeemer, friend and brother,
May I know Thee more clearly,Love Thee more
dearly, follow Thee more nearly, Day by day.
Amen.
If you are over a certain age is hard not to say that prayer without humming,
or even singing it. The musical Godspell put the end part of it to music.
(I'm not David Essex so I won't sing)
It's a great prayer, attributed to Richard, Bishop of Chichester in the
C13th and who is remembered by the Church of England on 16th June (yesterday).
The prayer suggests that it is possible to move from where we are to where
we could be, in our closeness to God. So I want to reflect on what it
might mean to get closer to God, using our Gospel story of the woman anointing
Jesus. So, first a v simple demonstration, for which I need my volunteers…
[Husband & wife standing far apart + 2 choristers next to each other]
Which couple are the closest?
Of course it's possible to be near someone, without being close to them.
Every morning at rush hour, commuters are squashed next to each other,
but at the end of their journey may not be any closer, knowing anything
more about each other.
What moves 2 people from being near each other, to being close? Sharing
a little of their lives, of what's important to them. Maybe opening up
a little of their thoughts and feelings. Taking something of a risk, that
the other person can be trusted. That's how courtship works, and in marriage,
the closeness deepens and develops.
And what's true about getting to know another person has parallels with
getting to know God. We can be near God, in fact we always are, but are
not always close to Him. Luke gives us a wonderful picture of this in
our Gospel reading. Let's have a look at this.
There are 3 main characters: Simon, the Pharisee host, the woman and Jesus.
Simon is probably in the category of Pharisees who wants to give Jesus
a chance - not a hard-liner who writes him off quickly. He has heard of
Jesus, and in his mind, he wonders if Jesus might be a prophet. So, when
Jesus appears to allow the attentions of a dubious woman, he takes this
as evidence that Jesus can't be a prophet because he would stop her. Jesus
then proves his prophetic powers, not only by declaring that he does know
what sort of sinful life she has led, not only by seeing that she is expressing
her sorrow for her sins, but also by reading what is on Simon's mind and
in his heart. And whereas his mind is slightly open his heart is pretty
guarded. He has opened his home to Jesus but has not opened his heart.
He has even failed to follow normal conventions of hospitality, by failing
to greet him or provide for foot-washing.
There is a huge contrast between the woman and the Pharisee, between the
sinner and the religious expert. Maybe she had met Jesus before - some
scholars suggest she is the woman caught in adultery in Jn 8; whatever
it is, she certainly recognizes in Jesus a holy man, a prophet, someone
in touch with God; she sees in Him everything she would like to have been
but has failed to be. She comes, intentionally to honour him by anointing
with expensive perfume, but breaks down in his presence. She allows her
tears to be the foot-bath and then, breaking convention, lets down her
hair in public to dry his feet. She then anoints them with the perfume.
It is a highly charged scene. Shocking. But her motivation is to get close
to Jesus. Simon, on the other hand, is near to Jesus but keeps him at
a distance. His very defensiveness has caused him to break conventions.
The woman breaks conventions out of honest passion; he breaks them out
of meanness of spirit. Both the woman and Simon are near to Jesus; only
one of them gets close to Him. And it's hard not to think in gender terms
here. Maybe Luke intends us to, for it's 1 of his themes. Following this
story (ch.8) he says that it is women who travel with Jesus; the 12 are
there too but it is the women who are named, and they who provide for
their material needs out of their own resources. Luke presents the women
as being generous and open-hearted, the women who make themselves vulnerable
and who instinctively know that Jesus is to be followed. Simon, the male
Pharisee, keeps himself invulnerable, well-defended, and appears to miss
out on what Jesus offers.
I have just spent 7 days with 4 other men. We were certainly near to each
other; we were sharing a 40 foot boat for 24 hours a day. (Incidentally,
if you wondered where the sun went last week, it was in Scotland, particularly
in the Hebrides). We couldn't have been much nearer to each other, but
were we close? Getting close means sharing your inner thoughts and feelings;
no doubt if 5 women had got together for the whole time over a week they
would have done. What were the conversations about on our yacht? Cars,
motorbikes, single malt whiskies, and yes, there was some Theology (all
Christians), so Creation and Evolution got an airing. But there was 1
conversation I had which was more significant than the others. It was
1 to 1 which started by my sharing something that had been v difficult
in my life; as a result, he shared something of the pain and grief he
carries for having lost his only son to illness a few years ago, despite
the prayers of many for his recovery. It was a risk for him to share that
- he had to trust that I would receive his pain sensitively. After that
conversation I felt close to him, not just near to him. His willingness
to be vulnerable took the friendship on to another level. And it occurs
to me that it is much same in our relationship with God. We have to risk
being honest and vulnerable with God if we want to get closer. The woman
knew she was sinful and needed forgiveness; she was willing to let go
of her pride, to risk being humiliated in public. Simon was not willing
to let go of his pride, of being 'right' and did not get any closer to
Jesus.
We can be near to God here in church, but we can still keep him at arm's
length; we can say: 'this is my convention, this is how my faith works,
and I don't want it disturbed.' But we won't get any closer. 1 story to
finish.
A few months ago I was told there was a man in the cathedral who wanted
to talk to a priest. Now, this is usually a euphemism for: 'wants the
bus-fare home, or some money for a room for the night. So I introduced
myself to 'Mickey' (not real name) a bit defensively. As he began to confide
to me some of his life story, I was waiting for the twist, and the request
for money. It never came, to my shame. Mickey was burdened and he wanted
to unburden himself. He didn't know me but he trusted me. 'Father, I have
done some awful things and I need God to forgive me, do you think he can?
I don't go to church but I know he's there. I've tried to support my partner
but I lose my temper and I hurt her.'
And the more he talked the more upset he got. He was shaking and weeping
and pouring out his heart. After a time I offered to pray with him and
suggested we go to the altar rail. When we got there, he didn't kneel
down like a good Anglican might, he threw himself down prostrate. Again,
to my shame I found myself thinking: 'I'm glad it's Friday afternoon and
not many people are around' (then asked forgiveness for that thought).
We both prayed.
When he left, more peaceful than when he came in, I thought: That's how
to repent, honestly, deeply from the heart. Like the woman who fell at
Jesus' feet. And what did he say to her: 'Woman, your faith has saved
you. You trusted that I could help you, you swallowed your pride and you
took a risk. Now you can be at peace with yourself; go in peace'.
Let us pray…
Thanks be to Thee, my Lord Jesus Christ
For all the benefits Thou hast given me,
For all the pains and insults Thou hast borne for me.
O most merciful
Redeemer, friend and brother,
May I know Thee more clearly,Love Thee more
dearly, follow Thee more nearly, Day by day.
Amen.
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