Recently, I got into a brief discussion about the Eucharist. The Mass. Holy Communion. The other person came from a different Christian tradition and thought that the Eucharist was not really “suitable” as the main service on a Sunday morning. He saw it as being fairly exclusive, since only those confirmed usually communicate. He also thought it quite complicated and difficult to follow for those newly arrived. Those who are just testing the waters of faith. And he assumed that the Eucharist was completely beyond any child’s comprehension. Should the Mass – as some Christians strongly argue - be kept for occasional or early morning worship? And the main act of Sunday worship be a great act of prayer, praise, song – and even dance? A service not just for insiders, but one that all can feel at home with? That all can easily understand, join in and feel a part of? Well, unsurprisingly, I think not! Although I think it true that any act of Christian worship – if it’s truly Christian - is initially going to be a bit confusing and strange to the newcomer, that’s just because even the very basic things such as Scripture itself, the words of even our most popular hymns and the frequent use of such “in-house” words as “Alleluia” and “Hozanna”, let alone the constant reference to a God who is “One in three persons” are all going to be unknown, strange and difficult to understand at first. We could, of course, opt for a sort of cut-down, non-eucharistic, “chorusy” Christianity. A sort of bouncy-castle religion. But that’s just an entertaining bouncing up and down on hot air! It doesn’t stretch, inform, humble, or inspire wonder – let alone connect with real life! No. The Eucharist should always be the principal act of Christian worship Sunday by Sunday, simply because that is how Christians have worshipped since the earliest times. And the Eucharist is the only act of worship Jesus gave us and commanded us to do. The Mass is a gift, like life itself. A gift from God. A given means of sharing in the life of the living Christ today. And that’s surely the first thing to learn about faith and about life. The best things in life are given. We don’t make them, we simply respond to them! What’s more, there is such a marvellous objectivity about the Mass, for here I don’t have to try and manufacture religious feelings, pretend I’m feeling holier than I actually am. What I have to do, is simply receive with faith. For here I learn that it’s not really what I can do for God, it’s what God has already done for me. At Mass, I’m just the invited guest. At the very least, even first-time newcomers to the Eucharist should be able to sense that they are entering into an experience that takes the Christian back to the very beginnings of the Church. Back almost 2000 years to a man who, on the night before he died, ate a last meal with his friends and blessed the bread and wine, saying, as he offered it those friends, that the broken bread and poured-out wine was to be the eternal sign of the offering of his own body and blood, his very life, on the Cross, the following day. At every Mass, Jesus is saying to each succeeding generation of Christians, “See how much I love you. See how I’ll always give myself to you and for you! So the Eucharist teaches us, so clearly, that this Christian faith is rooted not in our faith in 2007, but in what Jesus did once and for all, on the Cross and shows forth in every Mass. In the Eucharist, we once more stand alongside Jesus and alongside all those millions of Christians who have worshipped at this very service, generation after generation. We also stand alongside all those millions of Christians who are gathered throughout the world today, to do precisely what we are doing here – making communion with God and with each other, as Jesus showed us. At Mass, as we are called in faith to see ordinary bread and wine as the means chosen for Christ’s continuing presence with us, so we realise that this is the same act of faith required, the same reality expressed, as in seeing God as a child in a manger, as in seeing Him in a dying man on a cross. The Eucharist, therefore, takes us right to the heart of the Incarnation, by showing us that God can make anything in his creation a sacrament. A sign of his presence – even, perhaps, the likes of you and me! Here is indeed, a mystery and a wonder beyond our comprehension. Yet surely even a little child can glimpse its essence, can watch the elements of bread and wine being taken, blessed, set apart for God’s use. The bread then broken and shared out for all to receive. And the child can see that as that happened to Jesus in his life on earth, taken, blessed and broken in so many ways by life and by people, yet still offering himself to us and for us, it is also meant to happen within us, as we take all that into our mouths and feed on it in our hearts. What happens to the bread and wine at Mass is meant to happen to and in each one of us, as we open ourselves to the demands of the Gospel. Never think that the Eucharist is on the sidelines of the Church’s life. It is at its very heart. It is not a sacramental part of our religion, it is just our religion, sacramentally acted out. Everything we want to say about the Christian faith is shown forth in some way in The Mass. In the early Church – and still today – there were three kisses used at Mass. The Altar was kissed The Book of the Gospels was kissed So were the people at the kiss of peace A kiss is a sign of love and encounter. Just so, at Mass, we encounter: Jesus living in the bread of the sacrament Jesus living in the word of scripture Jesus living in the body of his people What more should worship offer? Certainly, it should offer nothing less! Finally, remember the early Christians were often accused of cannibalism. Of feeding on the body and blood of a dead leader. Their defence was simple, “Our Leader is not dead”, they said. In this Mass, the body and blood of Christ, of course, refer not to physical flesh, but to resurrection life. Here we see the continuing miracle of life feeding on life, just as we see it at the beginning of life with a child held at its mother’s breast. Yet the mother is not consumed, but fulfilled. Life feeds on life and love feeds on love. A child cannot grow without it. And the Church cannot grow without the Eucharist – God’s children at the Saviour’s breast. There are no substitutes for that.

Homily preached on Trinity 14, 2009 by Fr Bruce Bridgewood

(The Sermon is based on the Epistle for the day: The Letter of James Chap.3 vv. 1-12)

 Martin Luther, one of the giants of the Reformation, called the letter of James (today’s NT Lesson) “ ein recht strohiges brief” – literally “ a right strawey epistle” or as we might say “ a letter of straw”. He held it in the same sort of contempt in which readers of The Times, Telegraph, Guardian and Independent hold The Sun, Mirror, Daily Express, Daily Mail and The Star. The reason for this was that Luther had long been wrestling with the rather meatier letter of S.Paul to the Christians of Rome; which is full of really heavy-weight gospel materiel about Jesus as Messiah, the Cross, the Resurrection and Baptism.. James by contrast is content with a string of ethical teaching. Here was a first Century Christian Jew writing what amounted to a round-robin to his fellow Christians (particularly again, Jewish Christians) about some of the practical consequences of actually being a Christian. Jesus had warned of Judgement based on the basis of what one said. “I tell you on the Day of Judgement, you will have to give an account for every careless word you utter”. And so James picks up on this and in a series of mixed metaphors warns of the dangers of a runaway tongue. The damage that can result both for our neighbour, but also for God. The history of the Christian Church certainly bears that out- not to mention many PCC Meetings! His most muddled metaphor in v. 6 is also the most powerful- an untamed, unbridled tongue can set things ablaze- a small tinderbox can provide a disaster of forest-fire proportions. But whatever Luther may have thought - there is some serious underlying theology to all this. Our God is the great communicator- one who had made it his business not to be silent but to reveal himself in words- and ultimately as we know in the WORD- Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Word made Flesh. And the corollary to all this is of course that we are created “in the image of God” – and SO, speech is a key part of the “image-bearing” capacity of us AS humans. But so often, as James asserts, from one and the same mouth we bless God and we curse our neighour. This is not what is required. We bless God = we praise and worship him (here at Mass) and elsewhere…..and then we set about criticizing and destroying our families, friends, workmates, communities, fellow parishioners, fellow Christians, people of other Faiths etc etc. Words can be jewels: words can be like silk, words can be like the colours of a painter’s palette- the colours capable of creating a Carravagio or a Crivelli, a portrait in language if you like. So often the loveliness of sheer poetry grips you .. listen to this from Tessimond: “He who once has been caught in a silver chain may burn and toss and fret. He will never be bound in bronze again; he will not be forgiven, will never forget. He who has eaten the golden grapes of the sun will call no sour fruit sweet. He will turn from the the moon’s green apples and run, though they fall in his hand, though they lie at his feet.” How beautiful is that? Or words can be like poison, toxic and terrible. The rantings of Hitler, the hate filled speeches of Al Quieda or sundry jihadists….. we know them when we hear them. To a lesser degree there are the words of newspapers, TV, Radio, Advertisers, teachers, politicians, lawyers and Priests…. Seeking to persuade, to convice…..Morally neutral perhaps, or maybe not: but do we weigh them properly in Christian scales? Or do we just use our own private self-judgement? And last of all- do we recognize our own words for what they are? with their power to heal….. and their power to destroy? In home and parish and school and office? Lord Coggan was a great believer in “the redemptive power of words”. He was right. They have immense power – why do people ban books or even burn them? For that very reason. Let us make sure that when we open our mouths, we speak words which more truly reflect our being made in the image of God. He who is Himself Wisdom and Word and whom we receive here under the veils of bread and wine.

 Genesis 28 : 11- 18 ; 1 Peter 2 : 1 – 10 ; John 10 : 2- 29

My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. I wonder if you have memories of meeting God here in this church. A memory of a word spoken in love that moved you, a phrase of a hymn or song which somehow expressed something deeper. The sight of orderly beauty which touched you and took you up. Or the silence, like Elijah that went deeper and went into you, or resonated with your need for silence and stillness, like Elijah at the mouth of a cave, covering his face, the voice, the presence of God, not in the roaring storm of life, but as a whisper. I wonder if there has been for you here a unique experience of access to God, God’s access to you as there was for Jacob, fleeing in fear, hiding in shame, a way opened up like a ladder of ministering angels. An experience that leaves you disorientated for a while and changed. I’m sure there will be a variety of ways and different, unique experiences of the ways God has touched you in this church; experiences that can be cherished and returned to sometimes hardly knowing what it is that being said or whispered, but nevertheless as being spoken into the depths, a felt experience of the Other, a resonance of the God who has tabernacled among us. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. Consecrated ground, dedicated space, a holy building is meant to be space set aside for the soul to come before God, the soul to be exposed, the soul to make itself available to be reached by God, to receive the word of life into oneself. And it is the place where as a congregation, a gathering of persons, we identify and deepen the mystery of the journey we are on through our lives, re-orientating ourselves away from placing our trust in the material and what we can acquire towards what is eternal and relational, learning to entrust ourselves, our lives, who we are and those we love into the heart of the ever-present God, learning to be open to God’s self-communication to each one and to us as a People called together, set apart. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. As a people we find ourselves together on a journey. And this journey is about being moulded, formed as a people with a purpose. There is no mistaking that the architect of this church had catholic worship in mind when designing this church. A meeting place, a place of encounter with the Other, the One ‘beyond in our midst’, a place where ladders are set up or let down. From the exterior it is different from other buildings on the street, a sign of God’s presence. In the interior by its beauty and otherness it is for social activity but of a special kind, the social, reverential activity of God communing with us. The purpose of the building reflects the purpose of those who gather: to be a sign of how a society dragging itself into more and more acrimonious factions and rivalry, can – in fact by God’s in pouring grace - live in reverence and patience and love for one another, a People ridding itself of malice, and guile, insincerity, envy and slander – as St Peter tells us this morning. This is a new living temple formed around One who was rejected. The corner stone is a Person, the Person of Christ whose way of self-giving love we are called to imitate. This counter-cultural self-giving love made visible is an affront to a culture of gain. In Jesus it was rejected, put outside the walls, disgraced and seemingly killed off. In the old liturgy on Ascension day the Paschal candle would be extinguished after the Gospel of Jesus being taken up. This may have seemed too much like Jesus had left us. The light was gone. The end. Perhaps that is why in the reforms the Paschal Candle is now kept lit until the end of Easter up until Pentecost. But the old ritual was saying something important too. This light is extinguished because it is taken up by many other lights. Tagore, the Bengali poet said: “Death is not extinguishing the light.
 It is putting out the lamp
because the dawn has come.” Not one temple in Jerusalem, but many everywhere. The temple in Jerusalem, is taken up by Christ who is the corner stone of a new and living temple. That temple is you and me. Access to God is not in one place, but everywhere, even here. Jacob was met by God at a particular place. He poured oil over the place, consecrated it, named it. So this place, St Peter-le-Poer is dedicated, consecrated as a place of meeting, encounter with the living God. And we have prayed : that all who seek God here may find God here; that those who gather here may be built into a temple acceptable to God, that infused by God’s life through Holy Communion and the encounter with OLJC in the sacraments, may more and more be able to demonstrate God’s life of self-giving love for all the world. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. Amen, so be it.

2010 Lent 2: Homily at Mass S.Peter-le-Poer preached by Father Bruce Bridgewood

2010 Lent 2: Homily at Mass S.Peter-le-Poer Luke 13 vv31-35

On the western slope of the Mt of Olives- just across the Kidron Valley from Jerusalem sits a small Chapel known as Dominus Flevit…. ( the Lord weeps…over the loss of Jerusalem) On the front of the Altar is a picture of what never happened in that City. It is a mosaic medallion of a white hen with a golden halo around her head. Her red comb resembles a crown, and her wings are spread wide to shelter the pale yellow chicks that crowd around her feet. There are 7 of them with black dots for eyes and orange dots for beaks. They look happy to be there and the hen looks ready to spit fire if anyone comes near her babies. BUT IT NEVER HAPPENED! The medallion is ringed with red words in Latin which translated read what you have just heard in today’s gospel: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to GATHER yr children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings - AND YOU WERE NOT WILLING.” This last phrase is set outside the circle in a pool of red beneath the chicks’ feet. “YOU WERE NOT WILLING” Now S.Luke is v. keen on Jerusalem- he mentions it 90 times in his Gospel- all the other NT writers put together only mention it 49 times. Luke loves Jerusalem because of its history and its symbolism. It is the dwelling place of God, it is also the place where God is betrayed by those who hate the good and love what is evil(Micah 3v.2) When Jerusalem obeys God the world spins peacefully on its axis: when Jerusalem ignores God , the whole planet wobbles. Unfortunately J. is filled with pale yellow chicks and at least one fox. In the absence of a mother hen some of the chicks have taken to following the fox around. Others are huddled out in the open where anything with claws can get to them. Across the valley a white hen is clucking away for all she’s worth. Most of the chicks can’t hear her and the ones that do make no response. They have forgotten WHO THEY ARE. If you love someone whom you cannot protect then you can understand Jesus’s lament. All you can do is open yr arms - you cannot make anyone walk into them. And of course this is the most vulnerable posture in the world- wings spread, breast exposed………………………… It is curious that Jesus chooses a hen as his animal. What happened to the mighty eagle of Exodus , or the stealthy leopard of Hosea? What about the proud Lion of Judah? By comparison a mother hen does not inspire much confidence. ! No wonder some of the chicks decided to go with the Fox. But in this instance, a Hen IS what Jesus chooses - which on reflection is pretty typical of him. He is always turning things upside down, so that children and peasants finish up on top, and kings and scholars land on the bottom. He confounds our expectations by giving prizes to losers and paying the first, last. So OF COURSE he chooses a chicken, which is about as far from a Fox as you can get. That way the options become v.clear- you can live by licking yr chops, or you can die by protecting the chicks. Jesus won’t be King of the Jungle in this- or any other story. What He will be is a Mother Hen, who stands between the chicks and those who mean to harm them. She has no fangs, no rippling pecs. All she has is her willingness to shield her babies with her own body. If the fox wants them he will have to kill her first. Which is exactly what he does. He slinks up to her one night whilst all the babies are asleep and when her cry wakens them THEY SCATTER…..She dies the next day where both fox and chicks can see her - wings spread, breast exposed and bloody- without a single chick under her feathers. It breaks her heart, but it does not change a thing. If you mean what you say- THIS is how you stand. Our impulse is to interpret the hen image simply as one of protection: under the wings. But Luke never speaks of “protection” explicitly. He uses the Greek word which means “gather”. When there is a fox lurking around (Herod) is there any real hope that the hen can “protect” her chicks? Perhaps only in the sense that under her wings the fox will have to attack her first and so get his fill, leaving the chicks alone. But there is still the chance that he fox will get the chicks after taking care of the hen. In any case, Luke uses the word for “gather” – a critical concept for Luke and which he usually contrasts with “scatter” And so we are told that following the crucifixion, “when the crowds saw what had taken place, they returned home beating their breast” (23v.48) i.e. they were scattered. All this anticipates the long-term effect of the Cross. The violent death upsets the mechanism by which we normally GATHER, so that we are SCATTERED both socially and psychologically - Jesus came to offer us a NEW means of being gathered. But it is as a Victim and not as the victimiser. Jesus will gather us like a Hen, not a Fox. And he does so not least here at Mass as we gather.

Bruce Bridgewood