Sermon preached at Bradford Cathedral by The Dean

Trinity 10, 12 August 2007

Hebrews 11.1-3, 8-16 & Luke 12.32-40

It’s the holiday season – and what kind of holiday person are you? A camper or a planner? Do you like to have it all sorted before you go, or to take off and be spontaneous? Do you want to go somewhere familiar, or venture into the unknown? And what do you take with you: the kitchen sink, a pacamac, and a year’s supply of toilet paper? Or one change of underclothes and some washing powder? Do you travel light – or heavy?

Religious people are often planners and heavy travellers: they are more conservative; they like what they know, routine and tradition and order. Change is stressful, after all, and we want as stress-free an existence as possible. Our ideal holiday destination would be somewhere Gothic with comfortable beds and gourmet cooking. After all, you can’t just uproot a church building and move it around.

But: our role model, the man who started it all off some 4000 years ago, was not a man who was into Gothic architecture. Abraham was a successful stock-breeder who lived in a well-established city, who left it behind because God called him to go into the unknown and start a new life and a new people. Abraham travels with his nephew Lot: and when they get to Palestine, Lot chooses to go and live in the apparent security of the city of Sodom, while Abraham goes and camps in the wilderness. But it’s Abraham who is safe when the city of Sodom is ruined – even though Lot is living in an owner-occupied solid house and Abraham only has a tent.

In our reading this morning, the writer of the book of Hebrews uses Abraham as his prime example of how to be a person of faith: someone who looks beyond what is, to what God will bring into being, and who shapes their life according to that vision. And the writer uses the image of the city of God, God’s heavenly country, as the vision that inspires Abraham and other faithful people: that there is more to the world than what we see, and God will bring us in the end to our eternal home. And that may mean leaving the earthly city, leaving the solid things that we see as home, in order to follow the call of the heavenly things which we will have for ever.

That all sounds a bit abstract: if like me you’re a concrete thinker – what does it mean? Well, there’s been a tension in religious life throughout the ages in how we should live in this world. Some religious people have treated the world as if it were a terrible place, an obstacle between us and God, and have lived very other-worldly lives, giving up on the world and retreating from it. A modern example is that of many conservative Christians in America and elsewhere who believe that the world is about to end in nuclear war and social breakdown, and so Christians should stockpile arms and supplies to defend themselves, and in the meantime carry on taking as much oil and other natural resources as they can, heedless of global warming, because the whole globe is going to go up in flames soon anyway. Yes, there really are people who think this, and they help to vote for the next president of the USA – it’s all a bit frightening. These are people, like Islamicist and Zionist fanatics, for whom a vision of God’s future has blotted out any thought of God in the present, and taken their humanity with it.

On the other hand, many people, and some religious people among them, have restricted their horizons to this world: it’s a small fragile place and we are responsible for it, and so we must sort it out and make it a better place. And to a large extent of course that’s true: though the junk mail I got this week urging me to give a wildlife organisation £4 a month so that it can save the planet seemed to me the triumph of wishful thinking over reality. We have a great deal of power to make the world better, though we often make it worse too: but we mustn’t get deluded into thinking that we actually control the world and can do anything and everything.

The story of Abraham reminds us of two things. The first is that we have to live with our own weakness and vulnerability. Abraham lived in a tent, vulnerable to the weather; his nephew Lot went to live in a city, which was destroyed by a volcanic eruption. Global warming may be humanly induced, but climate change is nothing new: we might influence, but we cannot control. And the human heart, including our own hearts, will in our weakness find ways to corrupt and destroy, whatever good things we may do in the world.

When we go on holiday, we make ourselves more vulnerable, however good our holiday insurance may be, however good our plans are. To go out, to move on, always has risks; it will bring loss and pain as well as joy. Bu to live without going on a journey is scarcely to live at all.

The second thing to learn from Abraham is the power of God’s vision. Abraham saw a different future, and it happened because he listened to God and changed what he did. He and the other people of faith that the writer of the Hebrews speaks of helped to change this world because they had a vision of the next. And that’s how to resolve the tension between being other-worldly and having the idea that we can control the world.

God gives us a vision of the future, of the city of God, where justice and peace and love will reign, where there are no more tears and pain and sorrow. And because we have that vision, we can’t be at home in this world any more. Home is where your heart is: as Jesus said, where your treasure is, there will your heart be also. But we are also called to make this world more like our true home, to help this world be a foretaste of God’s future, for the city of God to be glimpsed here on earth even though we can never fully achieve it.

There are times when we can catch a foretaste of the heavenly city, when our lives are touched by God’s vision of the future. For those of you who knew her: Angela’s life and death has been one such window onto the future: a remarkable time around her bedside, or love and hope and even laughter, where her confidence in her heavenly calling infected those around her with joy and love, not darkness and despair. We will, and we should, always feel divine discontent at the state of the world, which should encourage us to do what we can to change it, and yet look again to God who alone can lead us through our weaknesses into the hope of that heavenly city.

Whenever and if you go, have a good holiday: and let’s all live light together, ready like Abraham to let go of what we have now so that we may find a foretaste here of what awaits us in the future, together with all people of true faith: for ‘God is not ashamed to be called their God; indeed he has prepared a city for them.’

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