Sermon Archive
Church at the Crossroads
Sermon preached by John Armes at Evensong on 8 October 2006
A crossroads is a good place to build a church.
I would love to plant a camera at the crossroads outside our church, film a whole day in the life of the West End and then play it back at super-speed. We could watch the city waking up - light traffic, road cleaning machines and the occasional pedestrian giving way to the morning rush hour; cars, people, all in turn waiting for their lights to change before dashing onwards. Later, shoppers and tourists would join in, buses and lorries, taxis and vans with the occasional ambulance or fire engine screaming past.
Then night would fall, the workers scurrying home again. Now it's the turn of evening diners, theatregoers who, as the night drew on, would be replaced by party animals. Finally, we would see the clubs emptying, and exhausted, sometimes drunk and occasionally fractious revellers staggering past, seeking their beds. And so to the street cleaning machines and the start of another day.
A city crossroads is a place of journey, of movement. Most people travel past oblivious to the finer points of architecture, intent on getting to their destination, achieving the next task. And they carry with them private thoughts, exalted by good news or perhaps nursing secret miseries. I might recognise some - Mike the Big Issue seller, Maeve the homeless woman slumped against the railings, Bob who always drops in at the same time each day to pray - but most, thousands of people would speed by unrecognised, each one travelling somewhere, exalted and embraced by the city, or scared and isolated by its busy-ness.
Yes, a good place for a church. The church needs to be where people are; a sign of God’s presence. But more than this, the crossroads is a reminder that to God no one moves too fast to be recognized and loved. For God too is on the move, not static or rooted to one place like our church building but keeping pace with the people whoever they are, wherever they’re going, whatever they’re thinking. And we, the church, are called to keep pace with God.
A crossroads is a place of decision and uncertainty. I often see visitors peering at their tourist map, or drawing glares from other drivers as they change lanes at the last moment. Do they want to go east or west, south or north - the Royal Mile or the zoo, Britannia or the ski slope? If only life itself offered such simple choices!
For we often talk about reaching a crossroads, or turning a corner in our lives. It may be positive, it may be negative. It may be about a crisis or about new possibilities. And whilst we may not have a colourful tourist map to guide us yet each day brings similar questions to those asked by our travellers: Which direction do I take? Am I in the right lane? Are the lights on green or red? Knowing that whatever decision I make now will determine the direction my life in the future.
Jesus too faced choices. In a sense they’re symbolised by that story when he goes into the wilderness and is tempted. Each temptation offers him worthy alternatives to lure him away from the path he knows he must follow. Feed the hungry, give us a sign, take control. But his decision is to set out towards Jerusalem and to accept the consequences, even if this means rejection and death.
The disciples found this a puzzling decision. They had come to the hazy realisation that their master was the Messiah, the Son of the living God, their king. But if he was a king then surely this should mean power and glory not suffering and death. 'God forbid, Lord, this must never happen to you!' But Jesus has long ago realised his destination, he has chosen his route, taken the correct turning and when he reaches the cross his journey ends. In this sense every church stands at a crossroads, a place where our path intersects with the cross of Christ.
Yet, whilst for Jesus the cross indicates that there are no more turnings to be made, for us it always presents us with a choice, a question about how we are to direct our lives. Is Jesus’ way of wielding authority a path we are willing to take? Are we prepared to lead through service, to suffer for the well-being of others?
In fact, the ideal of the leader as servant is embedded in our language of power. We speak of ministers of state and the prime minister. No doubt originally they were thought of as servants to the crown but nowadays we expect that they are also servants of the people - just as the civil service is there for our benefit. Politicians often get a bad press, but the majority of them, of whatever party, are genuinely concerned to make the world a better place for all people. However, the media quite rightly report and we quite rightly complain when one of our leaders is shown to have acted only out of self interest, when they are 'self-serving'.
But, let’s face it, most of us wield some kind of authority and have the capacity to affect the happiness of other people by the decisions we make. Perhaps you’ve been or still are the victim of bullying at school or at work; if so, you will know the damage that can cause to your self-confidence. Whenever power is abused by those higher up the chain of authority, by employers or bosses or teachers or parents there are long-term consequences for other people. Each of us, therefore, is challenged by the example of Jesus. Like the disciples we call him king, yet it was a kingship expressed not through naked power and privilege but through a willingness to die so that others might have abundant life.
I don’t suppose King Nebuchadnezzar, in our first reading, had the remotest idea about what it meant to be a servant king. His servants were so frightened of him that they didn’t dare to speak the truth to him about his dream. But the interpretation Daniel offers is a clear reminder to the king of his frailty and fallibility. One day, Daniel warns him, he will be mentally ill, stripped of power and at the mercy of others, before returning to his senses. Perhaps the more authority we wield the more we need to be called to our senses, to a proper perspective on our vulnerability and sense of our own humanity.
The kingship of Jesus challenges us about how we use our power. It also asks us to decide, to make a choice about where our own allegiance lies. Who is our leader, who do we follow, who do we seek to please? This is the message of our second reading where Jesus asks his disciples whose side they’re on. The Kingdom of God is upon them, the Master is about to return; when he does so, will he find them ready for him? In this part of St Luke’s gospel, every day presents a new challenge, a new choice. Every day brings us to a new crossroads.
So our crossroads outside is a vivid reminder firstly, that whoever passes by is offered God’s welcome, secondly, that God is not resident in the church but is there within and amongst the thousands of people passing by. Thirdly, it’s a reminder that each morning we are faced by a fresh decision. Which way will I go today? What choices will I make – the way of love and service or the way of self interest? Am I here to please God or to please myself?
Am I able to see myself, as I scurry to work, as I go out to play, as I return home to bed, as I wait at the traffic lights, as one known, loved and called by God? Or am I, ultimately, on my own?
Yes, a crossroads is certainly a good place to build a church.
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