Sermon for Sunday 23rd August 2020, Trinity 11
Fr Neil is our resident expert in knowing the signs and symbols of the saints – he would be great on University Challenge. This is particularly helpful because St John the Baptist probably has more statues than any other London church. And they all have their own particular symbols as ways of identifying them. I’m afraid that I get rather lost… apart from the really obvious ones. Let me test you this morning!
Who is the saint that carries a lamb - often pointing away from himself to Jesus? … St John the Baptist.
The saint that has her heart pierced with a sword, sometimes trampling a serpent, holding a lily, usually in blue… Mary, obviously!
Lastly, the saint carrying keys… Peter.
We heard in today’s Gospel reading Jesus’ words: ‘…you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven’.
What do we do with keys? Well, they are used to open and lock doors. Symbolically, they represent authority – one of the things that priests are given when licensed to a parish are the keys to the church.
Keys also represent power. The ability to include and exclude. Picking up on Dana’s excellent sermon last week, Jesus was the great includer – particularly of the most vulnerable, eg children, women, the so-called ritually impure like the Samaritans or lepers. That is Jesus’ way of being. In contrast, when the church became dominant in the c.4, when it became advantageous to be a Christians rather than persecuted, the church started to flex its muscles and used the metaphor of keys to exclude. And this developed into the power to excommunicate.
And if the church is understood as where EXTRA ECCLESIAM NULLA SALUS – there is no salvation outside of the Church – then it wields the most terrible power to bring even kings and queens to submission. Apart from king Henry VIII, of course!
This is pretty heady stuff – and powerfully relevant today. I was speaking with a 17-year-old last week who had given up on being Christian. She said it was partly because it was so exclusivist. And that, as she understood it, most people wouldn’t get to heaven because they weren’t Christian. What kind of small minded God is that!
The stories of churches locking people out are numerous. I’ve previously related how my cousin, a faithful Christian turning up to the church prayer meeting straight after work, was told off because she didn’t come wearing a head-covering (which was expected of ladies in the church we grew up on). She left church for over 40 years feeling the church had shut her out.
The church has also shut its doors to people of colour. I’ve just finished reading Azariah France-Williams new book entitled Ghost Ship: Institutional Racism and the Church of England. He is an Anglican priest – formerly based at St Frances in North Kensington. And he captures the frustrations, hurts and sentiments with numerous stories. There is the blatant racism in the 1950s when devout Christians from the Caribbean community attempted to attend Church upon arrival. Many were told not to return to church the following Sunday. That sort of racism is rare nowadays. Yet the keys to the doors of the church have been locked in other ways, leaving people of colour feeling like ghosts who haunt the system, but are not fully included. Institutional silence is felt profoundly.
Being an educated white male I found it challenging reading. And you don’t need to accept all his arguments uncritically, to recognise it’s a voice that needs to be heard.
Azariah goes on to say: ‘… there are others who also have been knocking on the door. If you’re from the LGBTQI community, for example, or you have a disability, there seems to be a template in place, and, if you don’t fit that template, you don’t fit within the Church. That’s what I want to challenge.’
How might we respond to this challenge? Firstly, what is not needed is a frantic self-abasement by white congregations. That’s not going to help anyone. I think the challenge is to pause and recognise, from the perspective of the marginalised and disenfranchised, what white male dominance has meant to the church and its vocation. Because that, surely, is at the very heart of the gospel. Using keys to unlock and open the doors to welcome all. This requires some intentionality. Because what has acted like a brick wall for many people of colour is the reoccurring chorus: “This is the way we have always done things”. It could be the motto of many a church.
For example, for sidespeople, and all of us who greet visitors to this church, we need to remember that the first impression by newcomers and visitors will determine how they interact with this church.
Our challenge is also to think and actively plan how we as a church, PCC, diocese, might become both more welcoming and more diverse. In conclusion, how can we use keys and doors to exclude none; and to welcome all.
Revd Dr James Heard
Vicar, United Benefice of Holland Park