Sutton Montis, Weston Bampfylde, Easter 7, 1 June 2014
“Father, protect them in your name ... so that they may be one, as we are one.”
“We are One” - say the followers of the all-conquering football team. But when their results begin to dip, the songs from the grandstands dry up, the crowd begins to bicker among itself, attendence falls away.
“We are One” - say the supporters of two political parties newly-aligned in coalition. But as the coalition evolves, the deep agendas of the two parties emerge as irreconcilable, and cracks begin to show.
“We are One” - say the lifelong couple, celebrating their Golden Wedding anniversary. But as the years progress the husband develops dementia, and as his inner world shrinks and changes, they struggle to stay on the common ground on which their relationship was founded.
“We are One” - say the church. We are One. Because Jesus asked his Father to make us one. ...
When we tread the path of unity we walk on difficult ground. Because our idea of unity isn’t always the one modelled by Jesus and his Father.
Sometimes we find ourselves united in a cause. I was recently deeply moved by the numbers of local people who filled All Saints West Camel on the night we held an impromptu service of prayer for the four then-missing yachtsmen [1]. I know that many people wanted to be there to show support for the families in their call to the US Coastguard to re-start the search operation, and indeed that cause was part of the reason for holding that event that night. The situation, of course, changed significantly through last week, and we understand that there will never be another service quite like that one. Sadly now just a memorial and thanksgiving service next month, to be held in Sherbourne Abbey. And whilst now still feeling deeply for Paul Goslin’s grieving family, and wanting to keep supporting them, all those who gathered in West Camel in that act of prayerful protest did so understanding that our unity around that particular cause wouldn’t last. When we unite in a cause often our unity dissipates once the cause is won, or lost, or in some way altered.
Sometimes we find ourselves united - but only within limits. I grew up in a city terribly divided on religious sectarian grounds. A sister to troubled Belfast, in Liverpool in the 1970s there were still Protestant Party representatives on the city council, and routine acts of violence between Protestant and Catholic schoolchildren, emulating the behaviour of their parents on Orange Parade days. The visionary friendship of the Anglican bishop David Sheppard and Roman Catholic archbishop Derek Worlock did so much to undermine and overturn the city’s sectarian divide, that by the end of their time together it truly was a different place. But even then both churchmen would speak of the deep pain they felt that their churches would still not permit them to kneel together to receive communion. When we unite in good faith sometimes we find that our unity has limits we cannot, at this time, overcome.
It is in our nature that often when we find ourselves united - we are united against another. Hence the rallying-points of political parties of the far-right which rise at times of austerity and change: against immigrants, against international policies, against religious expressions which deviate from our own. Our identity forged in enmity, a unity less in what we stand for than in who we stand against.
It is not just in politics that we find unity by banding together against another. It is obvious to us that a Prime Minister will embark on a small, winnable, overseas war to unite a nation in a distraction from economic troubles at home. It is perhaps less obvious to ourselves when we behave the same way - a boundary dispute with our neighbours to bolster our struggling marriage, the scapegoating of a colleague over a workplace issue to put ourselves right with the rest of the people in the department...
“Father, protect them in your name ... so that they may be one, as we are one.”
Father, protect them - protect them from what? Protect them, I suggest, from settling for forms of unity which are unlike that modelled by Jesus and his Father.
There are two ways in which Christians classically unite. The first way is generally found in more conservative church groups: where unity is forged in a strong identity characterised by a strong hostility towards non-Christians. Such groups are energised by the fight against a common enemy - the heretic, the apostate, the Muslim, the Jew.
The second way in which Christians classically unite is opposite to this - in liberal circles there is a benign attitude towards non-Christians, a tolerance which (to a conservative mind, anyway) carries a weak identity, for there is no enemy and nothing to fight for.
The strong-hostile identity, and the weak-benign identity - both are forms of unity we can recognise, perhaps especially the latter, which is sometines celebrated as being one of the attractions of the Church of England - that we’re all-embracing, self-effacing, polite and restrained in the way we express our faith. But as we know, politeness only goes so far. In the US sitcom The Big Bang Theory this week the agnostic scientist Sheldon has an argument with his bible-believing mother about a wrong she committed. His mother asks Sheldon if he can forgive her, and after giving it some thought he replies, “I’ll condemn you internally while maintaining an outward appearance of acceptance.” “That’s very Christian of you,” is her response. [2]
Unity based on a weak-benign identity doesn’t go too deep. And unity based on a strong-hostile identity just perpetuates hostility. In fact, in either camp it’s not just outsiders who suffer hostility - insiders who break ranks soon feel the force of the group’s disapproval or condemnation.
I’ve thrilled to read the theologian Brian D. McLaren on this subject, for he proposes a radical, third way in which we can find unity - in a strong and benevolent identity. Strong - meaning firm in our faith, rooted in scripture and confident in God; and benevolent - meaning open to others, insiders of our group or outsiders, in unaffected generosity of spirit. He is clear that this is God’s intention for us, saying that
“[In the original goodness of creation,] we are created for harmony with one another, meaning ‘one with the other,’ male with female, us with them, in dynamic unity without uniformity - different but not divided, distinct but related and unified. What doctrine could better orient us toward a strong and benevolent identity?” [3]
We see this in so much of what Jesus taught - in his commands for us to love our neighbours; to love our enemies, to pray for our persecutors. But most of all we see this in what Jesus did - in the way that on the cross he demonstrated such love; and in the way that throughout his time on earth he cultivated the most important unity of all - his relationship with his Father, cultivated in prayer, in constant conversation, in deepening understanding, in developing devotion. That relationship is captured in so many ways by the gospel writers - in the middle of John’s gospel as a heartfelt prayer in which Jesus expresses his deep desire that those who have been drawn together by him may know that same unity with the Father that he knows.
This strong love, this complete openness to the Father, is the foundation of a strong and benevolent identity, in which we believers, united in God, can embrace each other and the world in unconditional love.
Now, this is not just a nice idea or a longed-for dream. It is the task which we must work at in our time together here on earth. And never more urgently so than now. For we live in a society which regards unity as being united against another. You may have seen news this week of a report revealing that there is more self-reported racial prejudice in Britain than there was 10 years ago [4]. In the wake of the European elections the author Hanif Kureishi said that in today's public conversation we talk about immigrants as being like 'unslayable zombie[s] in a video game': we regard immigrants as monsters, with “no face, no status, no protection and no story,” he says. “Everyone, including the most reasonable and sensitive, have made up their mind that the immigrant is everywhere now and he is too much of a problem.” And we unite against them in such a way that “It is impossible to speak up for the immigrant or, more importantly, hear him speak for himself”. [5]
We live in a world where societies are dividing on religious grounds, where religious hostility is at the roots of so many conflicts. And yet each of the world’s religions regard unity highly. The need to find ways to love our enemies, to find the means to pray for our persecutors, has never been stronger.
In our response to Jesus’ invitation to us to share in his relationship with the Father we must seek out and give thanks for those who find a way to be united for (not against) others, and emulate them. There are many of these good people around - Christians, Muslims and Jews in open and honest dialogue together here in the UK, Israeli and Palestinian co-workers for peace in the troubled Holy Land. Cultivating a new, and deeper form of unity based in the sort of relationship The Son and The Father have.
In this unity people are learning so much from each other. Brian McLaren quotes a Jewish friend who in conversation with him about overcoming the religiously-motivated divides in present-day Israel, said,
“[T]he story of the gospels is so critically important for us now. The critical conversation happening in the first century when the church was being born was among Jews, not between Jews and Gentiles. Jesus, as a Jew, came as a reformer, as one challenging who ‘Us’ had become. So that’s why we need Jesus today. I mean we Jews need Jesus. Not to become Christians, but to become better Jews.”
Today it is dawning on many Christians, Muslims and Jews (and those of other religious persuasions too), that “all our religious identities need reform”, that “we all need to become better Muslims and better Jews and better Christians. (And [those in dialogue about this] agree that Jesus has a lot to offer to all of us in this predicament.)” [6]
“Father, protect them in your name ... so that they may be one, as we are one.”
Father, protect us from those forms of unity which divide and destroy your good earth and its people. Unite us in a love for others which transcends the barriers which the world puts up; make us strong and benevolent believers, confident in our relationships with each other, with our Lord Jesus, and with you. Amen.
Notes
[1] See my blog, Nobody has lost hope - but the search must resume today, 20 May 2014
[2] The Big Bang Theory | Series 7 | Episode 18 - The Mommy Observation.
[3] Brian D. McLaren, Why Did Jesus, Moses, the Buddha, and Mohammed Cross the Road?, p.95-96. The very suggestive strong-hostile and weak-benign categories are his - I’ve reapplied them in a context of unity, here.
[4] NatCen, British Social Attitudes, Self-reported racial prejudice data May 2014 [pdf]
[5] Hanif Kureishi, The migrant has no face, status or story, The Guardian, Friday 30 May 2014
[6] Brian D. McLaren, Why Did Jesus, Moses, the Buddha, and Mohammed Cross the Road?, p.48.
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