10:15 HC 3 January 2010

Second Sunday of Christmas

Christmas, for me, this year, has meant books—lots of lovely books—and what is more, time to read. One of the best I’ve read for a while is a book that offers a good argument for the virtues of wine. How, when wine is drunk in moderation, it enhances civilisation. The author places the wine drunk at the Eucharist at the heart of this—at the heart of civilisation. Wine makes us feel expansive, generous, forgiving, and so it’s no wonder, says the author, that God in Christ said ‘this is my body, this is my blood’ as he offered bread and wine to his disciples. We are reminded as we receive the gift of bread and wine, that we are dependent upon God’s grace, God’s overflowing love.  We are enabled to forgive and be forgiven—which is at the heart of a civilised life. In a more light-hearted vein, the author says don’t worry if you overindulge every so often. Drink as much as you like, but put away the bottle before gaiety gives way to gloom. Your drinking should inflict no pain on others, nor any lasting damage on the earth. If you do overindulge, and thereby hasten your death, then probably the best thing that can be said about you is that you are biodegradable. So take heart—you are biodegradable. That’s a nice sobering thought.

Wine can enable us to find the spirit to forgive and be forgiven, says the author. There’s a close link between our ability to forgive and be forgiven and what gift is, what is given. Think about the words. We forgive—it can be hard to forgive someone. It can be harder to say sorry and receive forgiveness. It’s very close to the sort of gift that is a real gift—that comes with no strings attached, which is pure gift, with no agenda, no bargaining, simply of itself, an expression of love. From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. Grace—pure gift. Received as we take that sip of wine into our very bodies, our very being. As we remember Jesus on the cross, saying, as he died, Forgive them, for they know not what they do.

One of the themes of the book on wine is how to drink virtuously. So not bingeing, not overdoing it. Wine, he says, properly served slows everything down, establishing a rhythm of gentle sips rather than gluttinous swiggings. Then it is conducive to the art of friendship, which is the bedrock of civilisation. It’s a brave book, I think—because so often in today’s culture, if anything is slightly risky, we close it down. Instead of just condemning drink because it can be abused, he says we need to help young people today to learn to drink virtuously. Indeed, he says, we need to help young people to grow in an appreciation of what it means to be virtuous, to learn to recognise goodness and truth.

It’s not easy. There’s a widespread culture of drinking to excess amongst our teenagers of today. It’s all part of a package that is turning our young people into consumers—consuming alcohol, binge drinking, binge eating, binge television, binge internet, binge sex. Rowan Williams made a similar point in his sermon on Christmas Day morning: He was talking about the importance of being dependent. That children need to be able to be dependent, and to grow in security and slowly—sip by sip, if you like. Not plummeted into adulthood before they are ready, and often then, into a life of dependencies—on drugs, too much work, retail therapy. This is what he had to say:

We send out the message that we shall do our level best to turn you into active little consumers and performers as soon as we can.We shall test you relentlessly in schools, we shall bombard you with advertising, often highly sexualised advertising, we shall worry you about your prospects and skills from the word go; we shall do all we can to make childhood a brief and rather regrettable stage on the way to the real thing - which is 'independence', turning you into a useful cog in the social machine that won't need too much maintenance.

Children are often left to bring themselves up. With no guidance at all, in a relativistic world where anything goes; where a three year old’s – or a ten year old’s, or a seventeen year old’s appetites are ok – who has the right to challenge? Parents don’t. Giving guidance is uncool; interfering, bossy. Somehow children and young people are assumed to have the wisdom to live well without guidance, as if it takes no work. Somehow, as a culture, we have to recover the ground which makes it ok to give guidance, to enable young people to be civilised, cultured.

One of the best things I’ve discovered over the last year or so is the philosophy of Aristotle. He was into wisdom; thinking that the way we live our lives is profoundly important. He thought we should aspire to be good – and the more we try to be good, the better we become. As we practise virtues – like courage, or trustworthiness, or generosity – they become part of what we are. On the other hand, if we let ourselves be shaped by bad habits—bingeing, and addiction start to take us over. Aristotle thought that it’s good to be ashamed because that shows a respect for others, and the ability to change.  People in today’s society largely don’t like to feel shame – we run away from it, it’s not comfortable. We drown it out, the voice of our conscience. But we shouldn’t according to Aristotle. It’s better to be able to ask forgiveness, and grow through the realisation that we’ve gone wrong, so that we become better people.

Virtuous living. Wisdom. Truth, Goodness. Not fashionable words in today’s society. What about you? what virtues might you cultivate in 2010? An expansive, generous spirit that seeks the truth, that seeks forgiveness, and offers forgiveness? That identifies young people around you who could do with some guidance—and to find a way in which such guidance could be offered?

What we have in the gospel reading is the relationship between the father and the son: a Son sent into the world that did not know him, a people that did not accept him. Those that did accept him, who believed in his name, became children of God. Children dependent upon God, born of God. Somehow, in our society, we have to recover that sense of the reality of God, offering us gifts beyond measure—the gift of becoming a child of God. We need to recover a sense of cultivating virtue—goodness, truth, beauty, wisdom—overcoming our natural appetites that lead to bingeing, and enabling us to grow into better people.
We can’t do it alone, though. We need the grace of God given to us through other people. We need the grace of God, transforming and recreating us in the Eucharist, in the bread and wine. We need to become, you and me, God-intoxicated. Allowing the wine which is also the blood of Christ to transform us by grace into virtuous people, who can be relied upon to be true and good.

So for you, in 2010. What are you going to give and live, to make a more civilised, virtuous world?