Those steps are much steeper than I remember them. When I
last ascended to these dizzy heights, I probably took them
two at a time – but not any more! The spirit may be
willing – but the knees most certainly are not.
Thank you for inviting us back today, and for the invitation
to preach on St Faith’s Day. It is a real joy to be here.
Now, not only do I remember climbing the pulpit without a
second thought, but I’ve also spent quite some time recently
looking back and realised just how much of my later ministry
was formed here in those early years. And to my great
surprise, sermons are a significant part of those memories.
One of my early memories is that of preaching – though it
was probably more like a recurring nightmare at first. I
never thought of myself as a natural preacher and well
remember spending hours on Saturday trying to come up with
an idea and then laboriously writing it out by hand before
reading it through several times to try to make the delivery
a little more fluent. In those days, if you made a mistake,
it had to be crossed out and started again. Mercifully,
computers came to my aid.
But I learned a lot from preaching. Some of the sermons I
heard in those days were quite profound, and I tried to
follow suit. It wasn’t me, though I only realised it when I
found myself down to preach at a family service. I vaguely
remember doing something about hands. There was a visual
aid; it was short, and had just one point. After the
service, several people made a point of saying kind things
about it – comments I’d never had when I’d tried to be
clever.
Since then, I’ve come to the conclusion that some of the
most able apologists – not just clergy, but lay people too –
are not the ones who baffle with complexity, but those who
relate to their audience, as it were.
That, I suspect, brings me nicely to some of the people I
heard preach. One sermon, in particular, made a real
impression on me and I’m going to make Fr Dennis blush by
saying it was one of his. It must have been the Fourth
Sunday of Advent and the reading was that of the
Annunciation and Mary’s willingness to do the will of God,
even though she clearly had no idea of what she was agreeing
to. It lasted barely five minutes – I’d not even properly
dozed off before he started “In the name of the Father…”
So possibly I should stop there, but you don’t get away that
lightly! Fr Dennis’ short and illuminating sermon too was a
valuable lesson. Sometimes, we fall into the trap of talking
too much when really we should be listening. Sharing our
faith is a delicate balance between speaking and listening,
and perhaps we say too much when we’re nervous. Far better,
I’ve come to believe, that we listen more and let the Spirit
guide us in what we say.
I also remember Bert Galloway – apologies if you weren’t
here in those days. Bert was the Senior Industrial Chaplain
when Industrial Chaplaincy was a real force in the Church.
He also worshipped here when he wasn’t preaching elsewhere.
Bert was a man whose faith underpinned everything he did.
There was nothing precious about Bert – he could join in the
banter with the best of them – but in his dealings with
senior management and shop stewards, with bosses and
workers, and even congregations, it was the application of
his faith to everyday situations that made him stand
out. The lesson was patently obvious – that we can’t
say one thing and act in a totally different manner. If we
do, people will soon see through us and find no credibility
in what we claim to believe. In fact, I suspect that we can
talk till we’re blue in the face and it won’t make any real
impact on most people. Some of you will remember Elsie Bell
who quietly got on with living the life of faith and made a
huge impression on family and neighbours, as well as the
rest of us.
One final thought about sermons. Another memory relates to
moving on from St Faith’s and being told, kindly I think,
that this person who will remain nameless never quite knew
when I’d finished my sermon. I’ve tried to improve, and
hopefully make a better job of it now than I once did. But
again, I’m reminded that our journey in faith never comes to
an end and if we are true followers of our Lord, we should
try to use every opportunity we are given, no matter whether
the steps can be taken two at a time, or rather more
sedately, as they are now in my case. Faith isn’t only for
Sundays – do you remember Bert Galloway telling us about the
God on Mondays project? Nor is it just for the young ones.
Discipleship is for life – in every sense.
What else do I remember? We have many happy memories of our
time here at St Faith’s and it’s simply not possible to
mention everyone who took us to their hearts and made us an
integral part of this worshipping congregation. So another
thing that has always been important to me is the sense of
belonging we all enjoyed. Faith and worship is essentially a
communal experience. Being part of a church makes it easier,
especially at times when we are going through difficult
times, and it also enlivens our worship of the living God. I
learned a great deal from everyone here. Often it was
off-the-cuff comments or one liners which revealed a
profound truth. There were house groups and study groups,
and more often than not, I learned a great deal from those
who were in the room with me. People came to church because
they wanted to be there. I’m sure that is just as true
today.
Since we were here, and as congregations have grown older,
I’ve often wished that the Church could be less British and
more willing to tell other people what we actually get out
of belonging to the church. Even though it is important to
us, we seem reluctant to mention it to other people in case
they think the worse of us. But it’s just possible they will
think more of us, if that’s to be our measure, because of
the faith we hold dear.
So what of the future? I think it was Peter Cavanagh, who
kindly brokered my curacy here at St Faith’s, who apparently
used a text from Genesis in his final sermon. He told the
story of Lot and his wife fleeing Sodom and Gomorrah and
Lot’s wife turning to take one last glimpse and turning into
a pillar of salt.
For a curate moving on, I suppose he was saying that there’s
no looking back. For a church, though, I think there is some
value in celebrating the past, and certainly in learning the
lessons of bygone times, but we mustn’t let them stifle us
from moving forward.
The Church is very different now to the Church I joined over
thirty years ago. Or perhaps I should say that society now
is very different to the way it was then, and if we are to
fulfil our calling as disciples of Christ, we have to find
new ways into the wider community that is possibly more
apathetic, rather than antagonistic, to the gospel.
Today’s gospel might seem alien to us today. Unlike a
significant number of Christians around the world, we are
unlikely to suffer hardship and persecution for our faith,
or even the martyrdom that St Faith embraced. However, I
guess the Church at large, and local congregations like this
one, will still agonise long and hard over the future and
have some tough choices to make in the next few years.
Some years ago, a group of you went on pilgrimage to
Conques, a village on the pilgrim way, where St Faith is
thought to have been buried and her reliquary survives, I’m
told, to this day. I re-lived that pilgrimage through Jenny
who joined you for a most memorable pilgrimage. Reading
about Conques, it seems pilgrims invoked the intercession of
St Faith before undertaking new and important tasks.
As disciples, as followers of our Lord, the task is to share
his love with the world in which we live. For me, that means
putting into practice the lessons I learned while I was
fortunate to serve here.
* It means being relevant. If we don’t meet people where
they are, we’re unlikely to succeed.
* It means living our faith as well as speaking about it; of
listening more and being open to the Spirit in our response.
Be true to yourself rather than try to be something you are
not.
* It is a calling to which we should never lose heart nor be
discouraged, but to continue steadfastly, no matter how hard
it might appear.
* Above all, remember that it is a shared task and a shared
responsibility. We are far more likely to succeed if
everyone works together as the Body of Christ, taking
strength from one another and sharing the load.
Be assured of our prayers in the weeks and months to come –
and invoke the prayers of St Faith who will guide you in all
that you do.
And in case you hadn’t realised – I’ve finished – but your
work is ongoing!