Sunday 25 March 2012

Against Abelard

Preached Lent 5 (25th March 2012), St Michael's, Camden Town

Jeremiah 31.27-34
Hebrews 5.7-9
John 12.20-33


I’m not sure how many of you get Fr Philip’s emails about the weekly news. Those who did will know this sermon was written up as there being ‘nothing plain’ about my preaching. I think he meant it as a compliment, but I’m not sure. I have a feeling he thinks I will make it all too complicated, too long and too far from the gospel. Like the clergy often do.

If nothing else, today’s gospel should give you reassurance that they and I are not the only ones. John is the latest of the gospels to be written, but we’re still talking pretty early. And he’s doing it too. Right at the end of today’s gospel, just to make sure we get the message, he adds - ‘He said this to show the kind of death he was going to die.’ Even the gospel writers needed to put in the odd hint in to make sure we draw the right conclusions.

Of course, that doesn’t mean every interpretation is right. The pre-eminent master of biblical scholarship in the first millennium was an Egyptian priest called Origen, whose great work the Hexapla presented the bible in six parallel versions, in order to better understand it. Unfortunately, due to an overly literal interpretation of Matthew 19.12 he castrated himself, and was clearly of the view that this was what all good priests should do. Perhaps that’s something our clergy should consider; I can hear the intake of breath behind me. Luckily for them, this practise was banned relatively soon afterwards as mainstream opinion decided this was undesirable. Tragically for Origen, not soon enough.

I tell this, not just because it’s mildly amusing, though it is – it’s my wife’s favourite early church story - but because textual study of the bible is as old as Christianity, it’s necessary and we’re going to need to do some to make sense of the gospel we have here, even with John’s hint.

For a start, that’s because John’s hint is rubbish. If you read the passage carefully, and look for the account of how Jesus will die, it isn’t there. This passage is doing a number of things, but not one of them tells us how Christ is going to die.
  • The first thing Jesus talks about is his glorification
  • He does then speak about his death, but only to say what happens next 
  • Thirdly, he gives an order to his followers – if any one serves me, he must follow me 
  • Then he does glorification again, though in more depth and with more nuance 
  • Finally, he speaks about judgement of God, his decision
And it’s at that point, when Christ speaks of glorification and judgement, that the evangelist is keen to point out that Christ is speaking about the kind of death he will face. When we preach on this passage, we focus on the death - because John does. When Philip asked me to preach in fact, he called it preaching the cross. We look at this passage and believe the death is the important thing.

And the death of Christ is obviously important. But what I want to say today is that it’s all important. This kernel of the gospel may well be cobbled together from a variety of sources. In my view you can see the joins; note the unconnected opening section about some Greeks, note some of the message don’t seem to run on from other. But, it’s a passage that contains in a few short lines a recap of most of the Christian confession, and certainly the core message of Easter.

Death plays a central role, but only because it is death followed by life, a better, greater life. A life in glory, with God.

Jeremiah makes the same point, though at considerably greater length. Jeremiah is known as the weeping prophet, because he is so unrelentingly depressing. Fifty two chapters of doom and gloom. Here’s an example from earlier in the book [Jer 5.1], where God speaks to Jeremiah:
Run to and fro through the streets of Jerusalem, look around and take note! Search its squares and see if you can find one person who acts justly and seeks truth-- so that I may pardon Jerusalem’
No one is found. Jerusalem falls.

What we have today is the only positive bit: though the Babylonians are literally at the gates of the city, though it will end badly, God will redeem Israel. Though Christ will die, it will be followed by the resurrection and the raising up of all the people. God’s judgement will overcome the world, including the ruler of the world, but there is a glorious future.

As we prepare for Easter, we should ask how.

The mystery of salvation is just that – a mystery. There is no creed that defines it. But there are some clues:

In the epistle to the Hebrews, we hear that Jesus offered up prayers to the one who could save him from death - He asks that it not be so. Jesus does not wish to die. And Jesus was heard - he could have chosen not to die. He is obedient, he is not compelled. This is a choice, and a dreadful one.

Peter Abelard, who may be obscure to many of you, is mostly famous for his illicit love affair with Heloise, for which he was castrated (though unlike Origen, not voluntarily), but was also one of the great medieval theologians. He preached that the death of Christ could (perhaps should) be understood subjectively.And what he means is that, crudely, the death and resurrection of the Lord are examples. By dying, he shows how to live. There is some truth in this. And it certainly has become increasingly fashionable in more modern times as a corrective to what is seen as a vengeful God. Moral exemplars seem, well, nicer, better.

But it isn’t. Picture the alternative. If it’s an example, it’s just an example. It doesn’t need to happen. And that’s monstrous - it would make the Father ask his own Son to die for nothing; it would mean Christ dies as a trick to con humanity into behaving better. This is not what John says today. I have already glorified my name says the voice from heaven, but I will also glorify it again. That’s the divine judgement, the single decision - there is only one Christ in all of history. One death, one cross, one resurrection, one Lord – and the hour has come.

And it changes the world. We do the death of Christ a disservice if we see it simply as a condemnation. Christ chooses to die, to confront death, he brings life forever.

The Greeks in our gospel ask to see Jesus. Instead they have the whole cosmic drama explained to them. Their job was simply to follow. So is ours.

Thursday 1 March 2012

Bibliography, February 2012

Read: 8
J. Le Carre, The Honourable Schoolboy


J. Baggini, Welcome to Everytown
P. Bowles, The Sheltering Sky
N. Davies, Vanished Kingdoms
S. Larsson, The Girl who played with fire
S. Larsson, The Girl who stirred the hornet's nest
J. Le Carre, Smiley's People
P.G. Wodehouse, Summer Lightning


I've only a couple of months before this record is going to become a lot more slender. I appear not to be using it to work through the great canon of literature, but some outstanding genre fiction. I've only recently picked up Le Carre, but he is excellent. Either of the two would have done, but a choice had to be made - Smiley's People was a bit too obviously structured at the end, while this was a self contained gem, packed tightly with detail, well drawn character and a great (and complex) plot. It had a good end too, though my favourite bits were elsewhere. An honourable mention too for Baggini's book about ordinary Britain, which is a useful corrective to the metropolitan view - did you know that, on average, households spend more on their cars than on their mortgages (and this was before interest rates tumbled)?