Acts 2.1-21, Genesis 11.1-9, John 14.8-17[25-27]
Pentecost, Sunday 15 May 2016
Corton Denham, Weston Bampfylde
Did you watch last night’s Eurovision Song Contest? Maybe you’ve never watched it - or maybe you gave up on it back in 2009 after Terry Wogan stopped presenting it, saying he was fed up because the votes were rigged and it was all too political? [1]
Of course, that light-entertainment world of bearded drag queens, Finnish heavy metal groups, bubblegum pop and power ballads is not to everybody’s taste. But regardless of that, most people in a war-torn Europe rebuilding itself in the 1950s, applauded the initiative of the European Broadcasting Union in finding a way of bringing together its member countries around the simple concept of choosing the best popular song from the selection their performers offered. [2]
This is the way the world unites - and it works, after a fashion. There are parallels between Eurovision and other constructions of post-war European unity. As one commentator noted this week,
In the year of a […] referendum, the parallels between Eurovision and the European Union are too obvious to avoid. Both started small – six nations signed the Treaty of Rome in 1957, and the song contest had seven competitors in 1956. (Britain did not join the European Community until 1973, and missed the first Eurovision by filing its papers too late.) Both are now bigger than originally envisaged: 52 countries have competed in Eurovision at least once, and today the EU counts 28 members. In the mid-2000s, both expanded east, provoking the same fears about identity and a shift in power. Both have struggled to negotiate where Russia ends and Europe begins. Oh, and both have Byzantine voting procedures, the European Parliament’s proportional d’Hondt system, and Eurovision’s laborious late-night points round up from each capital city. [3]
This is the way the world unites - and clearly it’s a real effort to keep that unity in place. ‘Defenders of the European Union often point to its success in bringing decades of peace to a troubled continent, but [some suggest] that the Eurovision Song Contest has become a continuation of war by other means.’ [4]
Examples of this are countless - this year controversy raged around the contest’s organisers publishing a draft list of banned flags. The Palestinian flag was not allowed in the arena, it declared, alongside that of the Basque Country, the Welsh dragon and Scottish saltire – and nor was the black flag of Islamic State. Rainbow flags, a popular symbol of the LGBT rights movement, are permitted as a symbol of diversity, but only if they are not wielded as (I quote) “a tool to intentionally make a political statement” (in other words, while booing Russia for its draconian anti-gay laws). Unsurprisingly, grouping together gay rights campaigners, Isis, Scottish nationalists and Basque separatists managed to upset just about everyone. The document was hurriedly unpublished, but the ban on “regional” flags remained. And the one on Isis. [5]
This is the way the world unites - finding a common language - in this case, through the magic of TV light entertainment - but gradually falling out over how it should be spoken.
This is a Tower of Babel for our times - building towards the heavens, towards the goal of perfect unity and absolute security - but in the end wobbling, falling apart, scattering.
Now, hang on, you will say, if you’ve studied Genesis 11 on the printed pew sheets this morning, wasn’t it the people who did the building and God who did the scattering at Babel? Well, yes, that’s how that myth goes. But myths always tend to suggest that God has done something - at the root of which is, actually, human behaviour.
The people of Babel are not just building a tower, they are constructing their own identity so as to find security for themselves. In the myth a jealous God scatters these tower-builders lest, having achieved this identity, they stop at nothing to get what he’s got. From what we now understand of human nature, it is fair to say that this jealous God, this ‘frightening sacred object […] is in fact a projection of ourselves and of our fears and of our violence. What is traditionally called an “idol”’. [6]
What the Babel myth disguises is the very firm likelihood that what we had originally were groups scattering from each other, and forming separate languages which were in hostility to each other, as their societies broke down time after time, and they failed to keep unity despite their attempts to do so, because their attempts to do so always involved rivalries, scapegoating and victimisation.
Anthropology teaches us that it is man who is the scatterer. The gospels teach us that by contrast it is God who is the gatherer. We know this because of the self-giving up to death of Christ, whose absolute forgiveness and overcoming of death permits us to form our identity, security and sociality without their being any ‘over against’, no more rivalries, scapegoating and victimisation. We know that God is the gatherer because of self-giving gift of the Spirit at Pentecost, through whom all the scattered groups are able to find the real centre of their language. While humankind’s attempts at gathering always fall apart, in God there is always an un-scattering. [7]
Now the Babel myth is one of the ways which we have come to understand creation. Just like the myth of Adam and Eve, a similar story of a jealous God scattering people who he thought were over-reaching into his territory.
But Christians learn to see creation in a different way. Christians believe that the defining point of creation is in that period of time which embraced Jesus’ actions at Calvary and his resurrection appearances, culminating in the occasion we recall today, and call Pentecost, the coming of the Spirit of God to the people. [8]
If we position ourselves among those gathered in Jerusalem at Pentecost, and receive the Spirit ourselves, then we come to understand the old creation stories - including the ancient myths of Eden and Babel - through the story of the New Creation which Jesus initiated. If we stand among those first Pentecostals we can come to understand our own stories in the light of the New Creation, too.
We begin to notice that when Jesus said to the condemned man on the neighbouring cross, ‘Today you will be with me in Paradise’, the jealous old God who expelled Adam and Eve from Eden had morphed into a gracious unconditional forgiver - who has rewound creation to reopen the gates of Paradise to humankind.
We begin to notice that when each person at Jerusalem’s international Pentecost gathering found themselves speaking different languages - and comprehending each other, the jealous old God who scattered the builders of the Tower of Babel had morphed into a generous facilitator of human understanding - who has rewound creation to generate unity between people formerly fatally divided by race and language.
So if we stand with those first Pentecostals, if we accept the gift of Jesus in permitting ourselves to receive the Spirit of God, then our own stories will begin to take the same sort of turn which theirs took from that day on, as God winds creation forward again and carries us with it.
No longer will we find so urgent the need to define ourselves through associations like our sports team or our parish or our nation or our family or our denomination or our sexuality or our Facebook friends or Twitter followers - for we know that, just like Eurovision, these associations are flawed, full of rivalries and and likely to lead us into scapegoating and victimisation, to bring us down, in the end. They are our Babels. If all our motivation is tied up in them, we end up scattering.
Now, if we open ourselves to the New Creation available through the Spirit, we will be drawn instead to One who is defined by complete self-giving love, One who is absolutely without rivalry, who, if our motivation is tied up in Him, will begin to form us into gatherers - people who can embrace each other unconditionally despite vast differences of culture, background - even language.
Where, today, do you see this sort of thing happening? Perhaps in the world’s refugee camps where people of all backgrounds - each inspired by a non-sectarian Spirit of generosity - come together to give mutual aid and practical help. Perhaps in our local hospices where friends and families from many different walks of life sit together in communal lounges during their loved ones’ last days, listening to each other’s tearful stories, and in a spirit of fellowship, learn the language of mutual support. Perhaps you get glimpses of it on packed city streets or railway stations when overseas musicians play tunes from their part of the world, and people are drawn to listen, learn, appreciate, even dance together.
In these situations each person involved forms an understanding with the other despite their great differences. And - I suggest - it is the Spirit who gathers them there, the Spirit of the One who sits outside all rivalry, the Spirit who enables us to sit outside all rivalry.
Interestingly, in light of all this, last night’s Eurovision winner was Ukraine, with a ballad about the deportation of the Crimean Tatars in 1944, a call for ‘peace and love’ seen as criticism of Russia’s actions in 2014. The artist, Jamala, said that her victory would show that Europeans were ‘ready to hear about the pain of other people.’ [9]
But, you might be thinking, these examples are few and far between, and flawed as well. If creation pivots on the point of Pentecost then how come the world is still full of so many Babels - how come we still insist on building our identities on those things which, ultimately, will divide and scatter us?
Well, as St Paul reminded us, creation is still in formation. In Romans 8 he wrote,
We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. [10]
We are a creation in progress. We are in the process of being born. We will continue with our flawed attempts at human unity, Eurovision, the EU, the C of E, the BBC, the family, because that is how we function. We understand that these institutions and every other attempt at human unity will be born, will flourish awhile, then begin to crumble into rivalries, scapegoating and victimisation, and fall apart in acrimony.
But now, in the New Creation, the Spirit in us is helping us to form new ways of being human, in which we needn’t be run by these other institutions, where we can begin instead be driven by the desire to be drawn into the unity of the One who is defined by complete self-giving love.
It’s easy enough to do in theory - instead of focussing our attention on what others are doing, getting caught up in worrying about what they’re thinking about us and trying to emulate them, we focus on God and let his desires run our hearts - let his kingdom come, let his will be done, here and now.
And it’s straightforward enough in practice, too. We don’t have to give up Facebook, or the family, we can keep enjoying Eurovision if Eurovision is our thing, and remain members of the Bowls Club or the PCC, but the more we are driven by the desires of God the further we will move from relationships built on anxious rivalries, towards fellowships built on self-giving love.
This is the hope in which we were saved. Or in the words of one of the most popular Eurovision winning songs, by Katrina and the Waves:
Love shine a light, in every corner of the world
Let the love light carry, let the love light carry
Light up the magic, for every boy and girl
Let our love shine a light, in every corner of the world. [11]
Notes
[1] Helen Lewis, From wars to power ballads: the geopolitics of Eurovision, New Statesman, 6-12 May 2016.
[2] Sourced from Helen Lewis’ article and Wikipedia: Eurovision Song Contest.
[3] Helen Lewis, ibid.
[4] Helen Lewis, ibid.
[5] Helen Lewis, ibid.
[6] James Alison, Jesus the Forgiving Victim: Listening for the Unheard Voice, Book Four, Essay Twelve: Neighbours and Insiders: What’s it like to dwell in a non-moralistic commandment?, p.546.
[7] Christological de-mythologising courtesy of the inspirational James Alison, The Joy of Being Wrong: Original Sin Through Easter Eyes, pp. 251-252. Quoted in Girardian Lectionary, Reflections, Pentecost C. Some of this is direct quotation, some a riff on Alison’s text.
[8] James Alison, Jesus the Forgiving Victim: Listening for the Unheard Voice, Book Four, Essay Eleven: A little family upheaval, p.508.
[9] Ukraine wins Eurovision song contest with politically charged 1944, Guardian, 15 May 2016.
[10] Romans 8.22-24.
[10] Katrina and the Waves, Love Shine a Light. Eurovision winner 1997. Wikipedia. Lyrics. YouTube.
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