Grace Thomas, St Paul’s Cathedral Friday 11th October 2024
Stir up your gift in us, so we may speak and live your Word afresh today. Amen
Picture the scene. You are standing on the roadside, close to Jesus and his disciples, as they prepare for a journey. A man of some wealth runs up to Jesus – itself an eyecatching act. He kneels before Jesus in reverence – wanting to seek guidance from this holy man. Imagine him asking his question, possibly in rushed, eager yet nervy tones. See how Jesus looks at him. With deep love. Looking on, maybe you are thinking this is such a wonderful affirming tableau of faith and discipleship.
And then Jesus says
You lack one thing……give everything you have to the poor and follow me.
Sharp intake of breath as you witness Jesus gently telling the man to undo his whole life, give everything he owns to the poor. You are stopped in your tracks.
The man stands up slowly, shocked, grief filled, and, hunched over, he walks away. Others are equally baffled as you look around.
This scene lands like a heavy blow.
What does this mean?
My homiletics tutor at theological college taught me a great deal, but two things in particular stick with me. Live a preaching life was one of them – believe me, I have lived with this sermon for a while now! The second one was to always listen to the voices who are on the edges of the scriptures. There but also not there. There but overlooked. Pay attention to the corners of the room and not just the centre.
This is a passage about wealth, among other things – Jesus makes that clear later in the reading, especially in the reference to how hard it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven. But its deeper than just the question of money. The Greek version of this text does not have the phrase ‘the money’ in verse 21, so it reads instead as Jesus saying ‘sell what you own and give to the poor. It’s a small difference but it highlights that this is deeper than the singularity of money. It’s about our actions, our motivations, what we do with what we have. It’s about who we are paying attention to.
This man clearly respects Jesus. He seeks Jesus out and kneels before him. But, what is the motivation in asking this question? What does the man desire? To be affirmed that he is on course to the kingdom? Or to be open to listen to Jesus and willing to heed Jesus words, whatever they may be?
The way he leaves in shock suggests that Jesus words were not the validation he was expecting, and is probably accustomed to, as a man with many possessions and wealth.
In so much of his ministry, Jesus draws attention to people who did not have the advantage of privilege and the wealth of comfort. Sell what you own and give to the poor is a pointed statement to the young man about whose lives he has not thought about as he has sought to be a faithful follower.
And, so, into this, Jesus says, you lack one thing. Not, you must do one thing, but rather you lack one thing. You have not, in your life, paid attention to those less privileged than you. You need to now give your all to them. Risk it all. And, as Jesus makes clear later on in the passage, the inference is that you will lose much, but gain so much more.
We gather today to celebrate the 30th anniversary of women’s priesthood in the CofE, the first ordinations of which happened in 1994. And it’s so fitting that the celebration we are having today falls on the day we remember St Ethelburga who was the first leader of a monastic order for women in England. A woman who exemplified the virtues of leadership and commitment to faithful social justice to the point of self-sacrifice.
As so many here know, the journey to the ordination of women as priests in the CofE was at times a costly, painful and long journey. It was a journey where people deliberately listened to, and acted upon, the voices of those who had long been ignored and denied. It was a journey of love that sought to change, even if it meant cost.
And, whilst this year marks 30 years since women were ordained priest in the CofE, it also marks 80 years since the first woman was ordained to the priesthood in the Anglican Communion – Florence Li Tim-Oi in 1944, whose own story was one of faith and persecution.
The story of women’s priesthood is a story of pioneers, of trailblazers, of dreamers, history makers. Individuals and the church as a whole, who, as faithful disciples, let themselves be transformed in love by the holy spirit in a way that meant sacrifice on so many levels, but that, as Jesus articulates in this passage, led to far greater richness.
Also, in that year of 1994, there was a 16 year old girl who left education, moved out of the family home and started working as a care assistant to pay the rent. By 18 she was living on a notorious council estate, with a baby in tow, struggling to make ends meet. She was subject to judgment and exclusion and, it’s fair to say, her life was such that the seismic shift that had happened in the Church of England in 1994 completely passed her by. The thought of being a priest in the CofE was not even a speck on her horizon. And it didn’t feature as one at all until, over a decade later, a priest who she had come to know, one of the original 1994 cohort in fact, suggested that she might be being called.
Internally, this woman laughed the suggestion off – not because she didn’t think women could be priests, but because she felt that women like her could not be priests.
And yet, by God’s grace, and the prodding and encouragement of several people, I stand here today.
What happened in 1994 was the culmination of a lot of work, faithful sacrifice, of undoing and redoing, but the rewards it reaped are very much still stretching into the present. My children see women, including their own mother, as priests because of the brave actions of so many over so many years. I regularly get asked for photographs with women who have come from places where there are no women priests, who have been daring to dream of the possibility. And, so, I stand in deep gratitude to those who paved the way. Because I am hugely humbled, when I listen to the stories, of quite what that journey was for many.
But, it is fair to say that we must remain alert to the call of Jesus to pay attention to those not in the room, so to speak.
What is it that we lack today – or who is it that is still not being acknowledged and welcomed, who feel excluded, unsafe and hurt?
Still, today, there are so many who do not see representations of themselves in the church. Many faithful, dedicated people who think – the church would never want someone like me.
So, my question to ask of myself and the church is, as we desire to kneel with reverence at the feet of Jesus for wisdom, are we willing to take the response we are given rather than just seeking affirmation that our status quo is ok?
Because, what is faith if it doesn’t embody a love for people who do not have our privilege – a love that propels us into acting for change?
What is discipleship if its journey ignores the cry of the marginalised and keeps the excluded at a distance?
What is a church if it seeks to remain comfortable rather than truly taking on board the call to give up the things it clings to in a way that enables others to gain and grow?
The psalmist today reminds us that the Lord is gracious and merciful and the works of his hands are faithful and just. My prayer is that we trust this enough to continue to step out today in the way of Ethelburga, Florence Li Tim-Oi, and all those pioneers since.
The movement to ordain women as priests was a bold, faith-filled, movement that sought to undo and redo, to let go and grow. To listen to God’s calling and respond, even at great cost. It’s genuinely momentous and incredible.
And the God who is always faithful has surely rewarded this bravery with a church that is far richer than it was before. It’s a reminder of what can happen when we are brave enough to do the work of radical, costly transformation.
I pray that, in Gods strength, we faithfully continue to take seriously the call of Jesus to notice who is missing, to see what we lack, to do the work of undoing and redoing – because as rich a church as we are now, can you imagine what a church we could be? Amen.
