ALL SAINTS MARGARET STREET
Sermon preached by Fr. Gerald Beauchamp at the Parish Mass on the Sixteenth Sunday of Trinity, 27th September 2009
Readings: Numbers 11. 4-6, 10-16, 24-29; James 5. 13-20; Mark 9. 38-50
There are many interesting things to see in Venice and one of my favourites is the Jewish Quarter, the Ghetto. It was here that the word 'ghetto' was first used. The origin of the word is disputed. It first appears around the year 1600. It may come from the Yiddish get meaning a 'deed of separation'. The Ghetto was the place where Jews were allowed to practice their religion unhindered. It may be derived from the Venetian word getto meaning a 'foundry'. There was an iron foundry in the vicinity. It may come from Egitto 'Egypt,' from the Latin Aegyptus drawing on memories of Joseph and Moses, slavery and salvation. Or it may come from the Italian word borghetto meaning a 'small section of a town' like our English word borough. Whatever the origins, the word 'ghetto' now has deeply unpleasant overtones. The fate of the Warsaw Ghetto in which the Jews were walled-in and where the great majority died of starvation, disease or the bombing in 1943 leaves a ghastly and lingering memory. Ghettos are bad places.
One of the big problems for Jews has always been the question of exclusivity. As a small people with distinctive customs they were always bound to be marked out. They were marked. Literally. Men were circumcised. While the gentiles cavorted on the seventh day of the week the Jews kept shabbat. Most people ate what they liked when they liked but the Jews had strict dietary laws.
But Jews aren't all the same. If you live in North London especially you'll know that there are many different sorts of Jews and their rivalries can make the controversies in the Church of England look like a tea party. Indeed, some Jews sound almost like Anglicans. After Rowan Williams became Archbishop of Canterbury Richard Harries, the former Bishop of Oxford received a letter from a Radio 4 listener who obviously enjoyed Thought for the Day. The writer commiserated with Bishop Harries for not being chosen for the top job and then added that she had hoped that it would either be him or 'that nice Lionel Blue.'
Within Judaism the ghetto, the notion of separation has not gone unchallenged. In this morning's first lesson from the Book Numbers we hear of two shadowy figures called Eldad and Medad. Joshua is engaged in a process of separation. He's the assistant of the overworked Moses. He's the Fr Gerald of the Old Testament. The Israelites are moaning as usual. The rabble that was among the people of Israel had a strong craving. They're cooking up a revolt. (They really were 'cooking up' - We remember the fish we used to eat in Egypt ... the cucumbers, the melon ..., the garlic). So there is to be a delegation of powers. Although Moses is closely associated with the Law and the Ten Commandments he is also called a prophet (Deuteronomy 34. 10).
The spirit of prophecy is not to reside in Mosesalone but is to be widened into the ministry of a college of seventy. They're all lined up at the tent of meeting and the Lord's prophetic power is shared around. Eldad and Medad, however are not present. They're back at the camp yet they, too are graced with prophetic power. Joshua (who liked things neat and tidy) doesn't like this at all. He thinks that the power needs to be clearly defined. But Moses disagrees: 'Are you jealous for my sake? Would that all the Lord's people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them!' Wittgenstein was right. Sometimes we have to 'leave things ragged'.
The same problem rears its head in the ministry of Jesus. If Moses, Joshua, Eldad and Medad were all nearing the Promised Land then this morning in Mark's Gospel Jesus is nearing his promised destination, Jerusalem. Things are getting pretty fraught. By chapter 9 the ministry of Jesus has started to deeply affect people. It's no longer a one-man show. He's been teaching and instructing his disciples. According to Luke (10. 1) Jesus himself on one occasion sent out seventy disciples to do what he'd been doing. But again the Spirit of the Lord has been spilling over. John is the new Joshua: Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we forbade him, because he was not following us.' Jesus however, refuses to stop this unknown exorcist: For he that is not against us is for us, he says.
If we are engaged in God's work then we'll never be able to control the edges. It's one of the things that make the doctrine of the church so hazardous. If you look at the history of the church over 2000 years you can see attempt after attempt by one group or another to carve out a separate identity. I was an undergraduate at Hull University. Hull is a city that Anglo-Catholics tend to despair about. By shutting its gates to Charles I it effectively started the English Civil War and it's been a bastion of Protestantism ever since. When I lived there in the '70s there were an enormous number of Nonconformist chapels many of which paraded on their notice-boards that they were 'Strict and Peculiar'. Many of the later chapels were offshoots of the earlier ones each becoming more strict and certainly more peculiar as time went on. The danger of an ever-narrowing focus is that it generates a strange subculture that's neurotic. It attracts those who want to take refuge in certainty. They act out their belief by lobbing spiritual hand grenades and sometimes real ones from behind the walls of separation.
And that's not catholic. It's not catholic because it's not universal; it doesn't include everyone. It's not catholic because it's about 'knowledge' (knowing that we're right) and not faith (desiring to journey into God). It's not catholic because it's concerned about the fringes and not the centre. For us as Christians, for us as catholic Christians our business is about Christ: Christ at the centre of our lives and our desire that Christ and his love are celebrated as the foundation of the universe everywhere. Have faith in the centre and the edges will take care of themselves. Christianity and ghettos are incompatible.
James, writing to the early church this morning shows that the marks of Christian living are not about shutting ourselves in but moving out and moving on. There's no hint of the ghetto in his epistle. If you are suffering, pray. Don't draw in your horns and go under. If you are cheerful, sing. Don't keep good news to yourself. If you're sick, get the boys round. Be anointed. Be supported by the fellowship. If you have sinned, confess. Expose your inner darkness to the wisdom of another and the light of Christ. Tell someone. Hear words of forgiveness. Be reassured. And if someone has wandered away then attract them to more creative ways. Don't bludgeon them into being a carbon copy of yourself but encourage their holy return.
To be a Christian is not to live in a fortress let alone ghetto. But the church does have some similarities with the community established by those early Venetian Jews. This is our get where we understand our identity as people created in the image and likeness of God. It is our foundry, our getto where we get iron for the soul. It is the place where we rehearse the story of our salvation and chart our journey away from Egypt. And it is our borghetto, our borough, our spiritual home. Our church is a good place to be.