Friday 30 April 2021

on the existence of God

Earlier this month, the Swiss theologian Hans Küng died. He was a giant in the world of academic theology and the enormous size of the books he produced was matched only by his reputation, not just in his native Roman Catholic Church, with whom he had a sometimes difficult relationship, but across Christian traditions. 


Many years ago he came to have dinner one evening, at a Vicarage where I was lodging. He was charming and gracious, with a sharp mind and a warm sense of humour. As he was leaving my Vicar asked him to sign some books. Noticing that one, titled
Does God Exist?,
was about 800 pages long, the Vicar’s wife said, “Hans, I’m never going to read all that. So just tell me: does he or doesn’t he?” We all roared with laughter and with a twinkle in his eye and an enigmatic smile the great man responded, “I’m afraid you’ll have to read it to find out.”


The question of God’s existence can neither be proven nor disproven. This is what makes the arguments between people of faith and ‘New Atheists’ so futile. For Christians, however, our belief in God comes partly from a choice we’ve made as followers of Jesus, and partly from the tradition handed down to us. But the main evidence comes from the transformation of our inner life through spiritual practice. In discovering prayerful union with God, we encounter love, peace and fullness of life that nothing else in this world can touch. 

Friday 23 April 2021

on reading the bible aloud

In her sermon last Sunday, Vanessa spoke of the benefit of reading the Bible aloud. It’s a wonderful way to read scripture, enabling the meaning and language to come alive. There are days when I become aware that I’m not taking in the passage I’m reading, perhaps because of tiredness. Reading aloud helps me concentrate and I’ll often notice points I might otherwise have missed. 


I first learned the benefit of reading out loud with poetry. Many poems are written to be heard. Unless you speak them, much of the rhythm, word play and meaning can be lost. Take this line from Walt Whitman’s Beat! Beat! Drums! ‘So fierce you whirr and pound you drums—so shrill you bugles blow.’ Read it aloud to yourself, and notice how it comes to life. The choice of the words ‘pound’ and ‘shrill’ mean we can practically hear the drums and bugles. When we read aloud we hear why the writer chose certain words. 

There’s a long Christian tradition of speaking scripture. Even monks living in silent orders were encouraged to read scriptures aloud during their private devotions. By how could they do this without making a noise? They mouthed the words as they went along. That’s another way to slow down and focus, particularly if we’re a bit shy about being overheard. When we read the Bible aloud we discover the different voices that are present in it - priests, historians, poets, storytellers, letter writers and more. And behind them all, the still, small voice of God. 

photo: Alexandra Fuller


Friday 2 April 2021

on placing hope in things unseen

Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1).

This verse came to mind recently with regard to the vaccine against Covid-19. On this little miracle of science hangs our hope of a way through the pandemic. We cannot see with the naked eye the active ingredients of a vaccine, which weigh a few millionths of a gram, and yet we know these little jabs will offer the protection we need to begin to live freer lives again. The scientists who undertook and peer-reviewed the research are our witnesses to their efficacy and safety. 

Of course, the writer of Hebrews was talking about Jesus not jabs. We have not seen him either, yet our hope is built on faith in him and on those witnesses whose encounters with him are handed down to us in the gospels. 

If you’ve had your vaccination, you may know about it because of a pain in your arm or from feeling off colour for a day or two. Likewise, our faith in an unseen God is borne out by the side effects we experience - though these are usually not of the unpleasant kind... The devotional life brings with it a profound encounter with the unconditional love of God, an assurance that our past failings need not weigh us down, and an ability to plug into a source of power that can change lives for good. With Jesus we emerge from the dark tomb of a life pre-occupied with self, into the dawn of a new day in which we are freed to follow him and centre ourselves on his loving kindness.

 

The wind is sometimes used as an illustration to help explain God to children. Although you can’t see the wind, you can see and feel the effect it has. And so, therefore, with God.

Well, that’s alright for starters I suppose, but it doesn’t really come close to helping us get to grips with the incomprehensible concept of God. What does help, is the person of Jesus Christ. In St Paul’s memorable phrase, “He is the image of the invisible God,” (Col 1:15). In other words, if we want to know what God is like, look to Jesus. 

And what we discover there, is a heart of love. The starting point of our faith is simply this: 

We are loved. 

God is the source of that love and indeed his very nature is love (1 John 4:16) We are created to be recipients of that love, and in the person of Jesus Christ we find God’s love given full expression.

"The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth," (John 1:14). Our journey of faith into the heart of God’s love begins with following Jesus. Reading his words, following his example, becoming more like him. This is our task. And, as a church, we help one another with this task. We allow God to love us (which takes work), we allow ourselves to be loved by others (that takes work too) and we commit ourself to loving them in return (that really takes work). 

Work takes time. It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a project. And so we pray for courage and strength and perseverance to pursue this work, making ourselves part of the currency of love in our community. 

The man Jesus, fully human, came and dwelt among us. Showed us the way of love. A love that he was so committed to, that it took him all the way to the cross. 

But the story doesn’t end there. He rises to new life as Christ, fully alive and present to us in the spiritual and heavenly realm. This is the cause of our rejoicing on Easter morning. That whenever we open his gospel, open our hearts in prayer, share his body in the Eucharist, we too enter that heavenly realm and meet him there -- while also still being right here, right now, on Earth. 

Alleluia Christ is risen. 
He is risen indeed, alleluia. 


Photo by Pisit Heng on Unsplash