clarehayns

The Wedding of Cana: a foretaste of feasts to come

A sermon at College Communion given by Monty Powell, an undergraduate in French and German at Christ Christ – 29th January 2023

4th Sunday of Epiphany

Readings:
1 Kings 17: 8-16
John 2: 1-11

‘Nelly, do you never dream queer dreams?’, Catherine said, suddenly.
‘Yes, now and then’, I answered.
‘So do I. I’ve dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they’ve gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.’

I always quite enjoy the little stories or anecdotes which you often find at the start of sermons. Now, I do, though, have a story about one late evening last term when a couple of friends and I here in college did actually run out of wine. Just like – I am sure – all the guests at the wedding in Cana, I was, at first, rather annoyed by this, and wished I had bought some more – but I’m not sure my story quite fits, largely because – and for reasons I probably don’t need to go into with you today – it probably turned out to be for the best that we didn’t have any more…

The Marriage of Cana, Adam Van Noort, between 1587 and 1641

In today’s Gospel, Jesus, on the other hand, seems at first to take the opposite view. When his mother says to him: ‘they have no wine’, Jesus replies that this has nothing to do with him or her; that his hour is not yet come.

I find it quite puzzling that Mary takes absolutely no notice of Jesus’ response at all. Instead, straight away she orders the servants to do whatsoever he tells them. It seems, then, that Mary is convinced that Jesus will help her; sure in her expectation that Jesus as the Son of God will just magic up a few more barrels of wine for her so as to avoid disappointing the guests. But this isn’t quite what happens.

When Rowan Atkinson parodied this story in a rather funny sketch, he makes Jesus out to have been some sort of entertainer – playing to a crowd which goes wild after they witness his supernatural powers of turning the water into wine. Perhaps something like this is what Mary expected of Jesus too.

And yet, the Gospel gives us something rather different. You’ll have noticed that John never describes the moment at which the change from water into wine happens; and neither the servants nor Mary nor even Jesus himself ever acknowledge it.

According to John, Jesus carried out seven signs on Earth. Whilst turning the water into wine is the first of these seven, in the final sign, Jesus raises Lazarus from the dead in front of a great crowd. That is the story in which we are confronted by what the late Pope Benedict XVI termed Christ’s ‘absolute power over life and death’.

Here, though, there is no great crowd, no great revelation of Christ’s divinity in front of all and sundry. Instead, the Ruler of the Feast ‘knew not whence the wine came’; and, as far as we know, he never did find out. He believes, erroneously, that it was the bridegroom who saved the best wine until last.

It seems to me that this quietly reveals something about the way God works in the world.

One commentator writes that the real miracle here isn’t that Jesus turns the water into wine, but that the servants listen to his orders. After filling up these great stone pots with a hundred gallons of water or more, they bring them up to the steward of the feast. I think that the servants show a surprisingly great deal of trust in Jesus by doing this. Not only do they carry out quite an arduous task, but also run the rather mortifying risk of telling the ruler of the feast that that which was and should still be – from a material, objective perspective – water, is now wine.

I think this tells us about the way God works on earth because – just like the ruler of the feast, who knows not whence the wine came – we rarely notice him, all too distracted by work and stress and technology for us to perceive, never mind be grateful for, his presence. We might call out to God – like Mary does to Jesus here – when we think we need Him, as I certainly have done, but that doesn’t mean a response will come straight away or in the form we expect. It is, instead, the servants who are attentive to and place great trust in Jesus’ words who make this miracle possible.

I began with a quote from Emily Brontë’s novel Wuthering Heights. If you’ve read it, you might think this a somewhat strange choice – it certainly isn’t the most ‘Christian’ novel around – but I really like this image in particular.

The Gospel verse just before the story of the wedding tells that we shall see Heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending (John 1.51). As Tom Wright puts it, in the wine which Christ has transformed, heaven and earth intersect.

Like the wine which pours out of Catherine’s dreams into the watery materiality of her existence, so the wine which Jesus brings to the feast, is a sign of God’s presence in a world that is all too often tasteless and insipid, if not downright bitter. This presence might be secluded and hidden from us when we are not attentive to it, as I know I rarely am, but it is ready to be felt when we are; just as the servants were.

We’re increasingly living in a world where giving this attention to God can seem almost impossible, as technology fills our every waking moment and more and more of our nights with the flickers and sounds of distraction – and that’s if we even want to do so. A couple of years ago, there was a documentary on TV about a trappist monastery near Loughborough (Brotherhood: the inner life of monks). Something which has stayed with me ever since are the words of one of the older monks: that, when we strip away all of the racing thoughts and distractions of daily life and are left with nothing but silence; that’s where God is. Perhaps, that’s where the wine is.

And why Wine? In a few moments we will all be invited to partake in Holy Communion, a foretaste of wine of that other life which Christ, as he raises Lazarus from the dead, promises to us.

It’s a promise of fullness and wonder, and one in which we should rejoice. As one commentator put it: ‘Jesus did not multiply vinegar at a funeral’.

Intercessions in the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity

Written by Alice Freeman, member of the Chapel of Christ Church, Oxford

These prayers were from College Communion (22.1.23), and were so beautiful I thought I’d share them with you…

In this Week of Prayer for Christian Unity we pray first for unity in our hearts – between our purpose and Yours, between our desires and our knowledge of what is right, between our aspirations and our will, between our intentions and our actions.

We pray that we may never set ourselves apart from the world or consider ourselves above others, and yet that we may never be pulled in by the crowd without recourse to our conscience. Instead may we recognise both our smallness in Creation and the greatness of your plan for us as we play our part in our families, in our communities, in our societies, in our nations and in the world as a whole.

Grant us peace in our hearts Lord that we may be strong enough to make peace with our neighbours, to recognise you in even those with whom we cannot agree and find hard to get along with. May we remember that we will find you in the most unexpected places.

While recognising the gravity of the disputes which divide us we pray for unity among Christians, that while standing by our principles we will never cease to question and check ourselves when necessary, and that we will meet other’s points of view not with kneejerk judgement and shrill condemnation but with a calm, tolerant and genuine desire to understand.

We pray for unity among all faiths. Celebrating the beautiful diversity of faith traditions around the world, we pray that religion will become increasingly a force for selflessness, kindness and peace, and not a front for ego, greed, ostracization, abuse and violence.

We offer our prayers for those who profess to have no faith. May all who struggle with religion at least keep faith in the goodness of life itself. Likewise, may religion itself never be an obstruction to faith in the goodness of life. And at our own times of doubt, a simple yet heartfelt prayer offered by a soldier in a trench as a missile flew over his head: “Please God, exist.” And when we still doubt you, may we at least live as though you do exist.

Finally we offer our prayers for the whole world – for ourselves, for this Chapel group here in the present moment, for the Cathedral and College of Christ Church, for the Diocese, University and City of Oxford, for our families and friends, for those whom we love, for those whom we struggle to love, for those who are sick, those are have departed, for those who are yet to come, for the 8 billion humans currently living on the planet, and for every being: from the largest elephant on the land, to the longest siphonophore at the depths of the sea, to the tiniest bacteria within our own bodies with whom we may struggle to recognise our unity – may all Creation be well and happy, and manifest Your plan to Your praise and glory.

Amen

Christian Resilience and Heroic Faith in Action

A sermon by Darian Murray-Griffiths (Undergraduate Historian, 3rd year), Christ Church Chapel, Sunday 23rd October 2023

‘May the words of my mouth and the songs of my heart be ever pleasing to you, O Lord, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.’

Readings:

2 Timothy 4. 6-8, 16-18

Luke 18: 9-14

⁶As for me, I am already being poured out as a libation, and the time of my departure has come. ⁷I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
2 Timothy 4.6

It is only because St Paul’s story is so familiar to us that we perhaps forget just how radical it is. Few people have enough humility or self-confidence to abandon beliefs and principles that experience has proven to be wrong. We are all terribly guilty of this. Pride and the opinions of others but, perhaps I think even more powerfully so, our own self-image and perception prevent us from changing that which needs changing. So, rotting away in a prison, deserted by all his friends and neighbours, seen not only as a radical heretic but also as a sell-out, a turncoat, and a traitor, St Paul the former persecutor turned persecuted withered away in flesh.

But something else arises from this, phoenix-like. And that is the Spirit, not of Man, but of God, of the Holy Trinity itself. Because not only does he say with proud conviction that he has finished the race and kept the faith, despite the naysayers, the deserters, the persecutors. He says something which one might easily skip over in the reading:

‘May it not be counted against them’.
2 Timothy 4.16

St Paul perhaps consciously evokes that famous passage of Christ: ‘let he who is without sin cast the first stone’ (John 8.7) and ‘Father, have mercy upon them, for they know not what they are doing’ (Luke 23.34).

Wow. I stand back, in full contemplation of this, and think what a saint, what a man. And yet as I turn to my own life, full of its complications and its multiple ups and downs of varying significance, I ask myself humbly: but could I do it? I think many of us can share this same feeling of awe mixed in with a tint of inadequacy, a sense that such heroism is not for us, but for the famous, the great and the good who walk perceptibly across the stage of life and indeed of Biblical stories.

For those who follow the news and feel often that sinking feeling of despair and of hopelessness, the world as we know it today can feel a very bleak and dark place indeed. We often feel that we are at the mercy of events and of the powers that be; tiny, inconsequential cogs in a faceless machine. We often tend to think that the problems of the world are too great, too complicated, too much effort for us. A standard response might be a slide into cynicism and nihilistic indifference to that which goes on around us.

The parable of the tax collector; with the Pharisee kneeling in front of the altar at centre right and the tax collector standing in the doorway at left;
illustration to an unidentified New Testament. c.1551

Or, as we see in today’s Gospel Reading, we may envelop ourselves in the cocoon of proud self-sufficiency and contentedness in self. If the world seems astray, at least I am morally pure and uncorrupted, or at least like the tax collector in our Gospel Reading, more so by comparison with others.

We commit grievous sin and wrong as much by unassuming inaction and by accident than we do by wilful design. The Gospel Reading points to this. The Pharisee does not think as he does by design but by intuition and habit. A man so proud and so smug that it is his habit to look down upon others, to obey the Word of God, but not its Spirit.

What is our path out of the seeming darkness? How can we emulate or approximate to the example of those like Saint Paul? I would suggest Christian resilience. To me, Christianity pursued with a Christian resilience makes sense because it is not the shoestring faith that relies rationalistically upon certain proofs and discovered truths but on the exemplars and injunctions of a wider standard of morality. Not just a philosophy, one might say, but more a way of life. Much composes this Christian resilience, but I shall focus today on Balance, Dutiful Love, and Dutiful Service conducted with Humility.

Firstly, the sober, unexciting virtue of Balance. We hear so often as a modern cliché that ‘nature abhors a vacuum’. I dare might add that God too abhors imbalance and excess. The Christian story is one that calls us to look towards the promises of a different, better world whilst remaining firmly planted and daily invested in the earthly world as we presently know it. We are called to be Marthas and not just Marys. We tempt fate and God alike, when we display that unshakeable, devil-may-care dogmatism, in whichever form it may come, that we see in the self-exaltations of the Pharisee. Balance is important.

‘Dutiful Love’ – Which brings me onto the next remedy: to see in the face of all the face of Christ. A tough injunction, I readily concede. But not an impossible nor an insurmountable one either. This onward march of goodness, of seeing in the face of Christ the face of all, is one which comes unstuck in even the most do-gooding of Christians when we encounter not the faces of strangers, but the faces of those in our midst. The faces of those who have hurt us, spurned us, oppressed us, who have acted contrary to that higher Spirit which we are called to abide by. Anyone can distribute to strangers, to the unknown faces in our midst. But can we turn the other cheek to those that we know? I read over the summer a wonderful book of sermons by Dr Martin Luther King entitled ‘A Gift of Love’. He preached about how we are commanded to love not just our neighbour, but our enemies too. Yet, and I found this personally quite healing, he pointed out that God did not command or ask us to like our enemies, to like all. It takes tolerance and goodwill to be able to use one’s energies for the positivity of Love, rather than the negativity of Hate and disavowal. It may never translate into a personal like, but we may act dutifully if we confer that peculiar form of Christian Love.

And so, I turn to the final part of Christian Resilience as I see it: a life of Dutiful Service conducted in Humility. This is the dutiful service of one who accepts that they cannot go on always alone. We need one another, we depend on one another – that is not always a comforting thought, nor one entirely appealing either.

At the beginning of this year, I had come out to my friends as a pessimist. But, in one of those paradoxes beloved of a life of Faith, I remain optimistic still. There is a way out of the morass that we see around us. Sadly, it is not instant, it is not cheap, it is not one which can be handed to one and all on a golden plate.

The hope is in ourselves. That may sound inadequate and puny. But God, inscrutable, perplexing, even frustrating as we mortals may find Him, has never worked his way merely through magic spells and lightening flashes, he has imparted to us all the power to act for good, to indeed act at all. The powers lie in our hands, uneasily yes, but there, nevertheless. I personally cannot, like some, wait for someone else to come along to fix what we know and see to be broken. I cannot agree that whatever talents and gifts God has given me can only be used to the pursuit of mere material baubles that glitter only at night.

The question now is whether we are ourselves to take up the mantle, whether we are to make the differences needed, individually or collectively. One of my personal inspirations, the late Queen, famously said on her 21^st birthday that:

I declare before you all that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service.

Her Majesty the Queen on her 21st birthday, 1947

But, perhaps even more poignantly, she said soon after,

But I shall not have the strength to carry out this resolution alone, unless you join in it with me, as I now invite you to do. God make good my vow and God bless all those who are willing to share in it.

This powerful speech was one of dedication. One which many can agree she lived faithfully to for the rest of her life, long indeed as it was. As I ponder turning 21 soon, I am moved strongly in my own heart to make a similar dedication. But we should not look back fawningly on what a young woman freely committed herself to do and think how wonderful she was because she did it. Because we ignore what Queen Elizabeth’s message also was: an invitation for us to commit ourselves to the service of all, under the auspices of God. The late Queen may have departed, but her message and inspiration of service and duty is one that has been inherited from throughout the ages, stretching right back to the sacrifices of Abraham and forwards to us today.

In devoting ourselves, we show up what Heroic Faith in Action is – it is pursuing the onward march of goodness, whether it be in fashion or not, because to do the right thing is never easy, never straightforward, and oftentimes begs us to wonder if it was ever worth it all. It is not, contrary to popular belief, a binary decision between serving all and serving ourselves. God knows that many compromises will be made – the question is will we remember that there is a purpose beyond getting through to the next day?

Jesus said in today’s Gospel Reading,

all who exalt themselves shall be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.
Luke 18.14

So, let us pour ourselves out like libations, let us never waver, never despair, never fear. We may not get, like Moses, to the Promised Land. But if we act with Christian resilience against all that earthly struggles might throw at us, then as Eliza says in the Hamilton play, ‘that would be enough’. Then, when the day finally comes, we may say in earnestness with St Paul,

‘I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith’.

Amen.

Kernels of Wisdom for Freshers Week

Address for Freshers Evensong, Christ Church, Oxford
9/10/2022

2 Chronicles 9: 1–12 (NRSV)

When the queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon, she came to Jerusalem to test him with hard questions… When she came to Solomon, she discussed with him all that was on her mind. Solomon answered all her questions.
2 Chronicles 9.1

The Queen of Sheba is a woman of myths and legend, depicted in operas and on canvas. She’s known as Makeda in Ethiopian tradition, and as Bilquis in Islamic tradition. It is thought her country is what we would know as modern-day Yemen, and she went on a journey of between 3-7 years to Jerusalem to seek the wisdom of Solomon.

It seems fitting to have the story of the Queen of Sheba at Freshers’ Evensong. This story of a woman who leaves her homeland and her people to travel across the world in search of knowledge and wisdom.

In the past few days, I’ve met people from all corners of the globe and nation. It’s been a joy to see the diversity of cultures, languages and backgrounds that have gathered in this place over the past week.

Those of you who are new here will have journeyed here, perhaps for similar reasons to the Queen of Sheba: to test your tutors with hard questions, to find out more about your subject, the world, and yourselves.

There is a proverb in the bible that speaks of wisdom as something to be pursued above all things. ‘wisdom’ is personified as a woman, ’lady wisdom’,

Get wisdom, get understanding.. and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you. Wisdom is supreme; therefore get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding
Proverbs 4. 5-9

There is a difference between knowledge and wisdom though isn’t there? Someone said ‘knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad’!

Knowledge can be gained through reading, research, and gathering information; but wisdom uses discernment, judgment and understanding to take this information and use it for good.

I often marvel at how the cleverest of people can make the most foolish decisions at times!

CS Lewis said in a letter, ‘The first kernel of wisdom to start with is to let our dependence and trust in God permeate all our worries of today’ ¹

So, here are three simple things to keep in mind as you begin your time here, or as you begin your academic year.

Firstly, seek wisdom, not just knowledge. All your questions are unlikely to be answered in just three or four years; but be willing to be transformed, and changed by your experience here. Keep an open mind and an open heart.

Secondly, the Queen of Sheba didn’t set off on her own, she had a retinue, a caravan of people alongside her to support her. We need one another. There will be times when the journey is rocky and the wheels on our proverbial chariots fall off. We need to look out for one another, support one another, and care for one another. That’s the joy of being part of a community like Christ Church.

Thirdly, and most importantly, the Queen of Sheba saw that all the wisdom and gifts Solomon had were because they’d been given to him by God.

God is with you, whether you are just starting out, or mid-way through, whether you are full of faith, barely holding on to faith, or have no faith at all. Let this knowledge permeate our current worries, as CS Lewis said.

And remember that this Chapel, Cathedral, this house of prayer is a place that people have traveled to and prayed in for over 1000 years; and it is a place for you to come into whenever you like, to sit, to pray, to think, to question, to be inspired.

So bless you as you begin your time here and I hope that you, like the Queen of Sheba, find what you’re seeking, and that you have a lot of fun along the way, knowing that God is with you throughout it all.

https://www.dbu.edu/news/2020/03/wisdom-for-disruptive-times-from-the-letters-of-cs-lewis.html

Martha and Mary: Attentive Hospitality

Revd Clare Hayns
Trinity 5C
A sermon for Christ Church Cathedral, Oxford on 16th July 2022

Genesis 18.1-10
Luke 10. 38-end

**Diego Velázquez: Christ in the House of Martha and Mary** (I love how grumpy Martha looks here!)

‘It’s not fair’

Last night I went to a milestone birthday party for my sister who’s 2 1/2 years younger than me. We are now the best of friends but our childhood consisted of almost constant arguments. I was the oldest of four and considered myself to be the one who was always expected to be helpful, to lay the table, to help my mother in the kitchen, to be responsible (I’m not sure I was particularly, but that was my perception!). My sister had a gift of always being absent when the table needed laying or a job needed to be done. Particularly if there was hosting to be done and just as people were arriving. She was normally to be found hiding away and reading a book, often in the bath where no one could find her, or sitting under a tree writing a poem about her feelings. It drove me mad.

‘it’s not fair’ was my regular refrain. I would often go to my parents and say a similar plea to that of Martha to Jesus:

Do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me.
Luke 10:40

There’s a lot of hosting going on in both readings from Genesis and Luke. In Genesis three angelic visitors turn up at the tent of Abraham and Sarah. They are on their way to Sodom and Gomorrah and have an important message to impart on their way.

And in Luke’s gospel, Jesus and his no doubt large group of disciples turn up at the home of Martha of Bethany and her sister Mary.

And the hosts spring into action to provide hospitality. Abraham rushes around, he runs to his guests, he runs to the herd, and he ‘hastens’ to give Sarah instructions.

And there’s Martha. Similarly rushing around to provide food for her guests. I love Martha. In my view she’s one of the best female bible characters in the New Testament. She’s feisty and not afraid to speak her mind. In John’s gospel, it’s Martha who runs to Jesus after her brother Lazarus dies and she rebukes him ‘Lord, if you’d have been here my brother wouldn’t have died’ (John 11.21) She is loved by Jesus, clearly loves him, and feels comfortable with him.

And so when Jesus turns up with all his friends and she’s left alone to do everything because her sister has abandoned her, she doesn’t hesitate to speak her mind.

And can we blame her? We’ve probably all been there at some time or other.

It’s important to remember a couple of things of context here.

What Martha was doing was providing hospitality and welcome, and this was vitally important in the culture of the time. In first-century Palestine, hospitality was (and still is) about allowing the guest to share the sacredness of the family space. The women’s role was (and still is in many households) to do the cooking and food preparation. Martha was doing just what was expected of her.

What was unexpected was what Mary was doing.

It was very unusual for Jewish Palestinian women to join male guests before they are done with all the food preparation. And even more unusual for a woman to be sitting amongst the men in the posture of a disciple.

And can we blame Mary for taking this opportunity to sit with the male disciples and listen to Jesus? It was an unexpected and surprising gift.

But it is this that infuriates her sister the most.

It’s not fair.

And Jesus’ response? He points out her frustration. (rather a brave thing for him to do!)

Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things;there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.
Luke 10.42

It seems as if Jesus is rebuking Martha for doing what was expected of her. The comment ‘the better part’ seems as if Jesus is creating a hierarchy where sitting and listening is ‘better’ than active service.

This has often been how we’ve read this passage. Where the contemplative life is seen as better than the activist life; where the call to a life of prayer as a nun or monk or priest is seen as being more spiritual than the call to being a parent or medic or homemaker.

Is this what Jesus meant by this? I think not.

The word for the ‘many things’, or in other versions ‘many tasks’ that Martha is distracted by is ‘diakonia’: service/ministry. It is where we get the word ‘deacon’ from. It can mean all sorts of different aspects of ministry, from preparing food to looking after the poor.

Elsewhere in Luke’s gospel those who provide service (Diakonia) are commended. Last week we read of the Good Samaritan who was commended for his active service and the disciples surely had Jesus’ words ‘go and do likewise’ ringing in their ears as they went to Martha’s house. (Luke 10.37) Also, Jesus describes himself as ‘one who serves’.

So it can’t be right that Jesus is criticising Martha for also being one who serves. Or for doing what is essentially ministry.

So what is he saying?

We are told in John’s Gospel that: ‘Jesus Loved Martha’ (John 11.5). And in the context of love that he points out to her the truth.

Martha’s attention was in the wrong place, even if what she was doing was the right thing. Jesus is gently pointing out that her service, her ‘diakonia’, was being done with distraction, worry, and irritation. Her attention was on herself and on Mary not doing what Martha thought Mary should be doing.

In her distraction, Martha was missing what was important right then.

Jesus was pointing out that what Mary was doing was, at that particular moment in time, was exactly what Mary should have been doing. She was paying attention to Jesus, to the Son of God who was right there in her home.

How often have we been in a conversation when we know we aren’t really focused on it. My kids always know when I’m pretending to listen to them but really my mind is on something else. When I’m talking to them and just saying ‘hm, hm’ – they can tell. They now call me out on it.

Simone Weil, who was both political activist and contemplative, said that: ‘Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity’. [1]

Can you remember when someone last sat and listened to you, giving you their full attention, and how that felt?

Paying attention to someone is an act of service, of generosity. It shows that they are of value to you.

Paying attention to God though is even more important. It can literally change our lives.

Sarah (Genesis) was paying attention whilst Abraham rushed about and she heard the angelic visitors telling her she was to have a child. We don’t know what Mary was hearing as she sat listening, but Jesus says it was ‘the better part’ and that ‘it wouldn’t be taken from her’.

I think Sarah and Mary were providing hospitality to their visitors by paying attention to them. What they were doing could be described as attentive hospitality. What Martha was doing was distracted hospitality.

What might attentive hospitality look like in our own lives and in the lives of our churches?

Do we pay attention? To one another, to Jesus.

Or are we so busy doing stuff or being distracted that we don’t notice that Jesus is in our midst, wanting to bless us?

Are we so anxious about what others are doing or not doing, so worried about fairness, that we forget to realise what we are being invited to?

And what are we being invited to?

A loving relationship with Jesus who, like Mary and Martha wants to spend time with us. Who knows and loves us even when we’re distracted and gently draws us back into relationship with him.

Perhaps that’s what we are being invited to, in this time as we head into the holiday season.

What might it be like to give Jesus attentive hospitality?

To put aside all our worries and distractions for a little while.

To respond to the invitation:

‘there is need (right now) of only one thing’.

[1] https://lithub.com/simone-weils-radical-conception-of-attention/

Unveiled #Me Too: courage in the face of violence and threat

Helen Paynter, author, Baptist minister, and the director of the Centre for the Study of Bible and Violence at Bristol Baptist College.

This article was written by Helen Paynter as part of a series based on our book Unveiled and commissioned by BRF. This was first published by BRF and is reproduced here by kind permission from Helen and BRF.

TW: Domestic Violence/sexual abuse

Standing up to a powerful man comes at considerable cost.
Unveiled, p. 177

In 2017, the #MeToo tag went viral, becoming a global phenomenon within a matter of weeks, and emboldening millions of women – and also men – to name their experience of sexual harassment and abuse. What had, in many places, been a shadowy secret was brought into the light. The scale of the pandemic of abuse became clearer to many. Systems and structures that collude to silence women were brought under scrutiny. Serial abusers who had concealed their crimes with threats, non-disclosure agreements and the ‘old boys’ network’ were exposed and brought to justice.

What few people might imagine is that the women who shouted ‘Me too!’ had sisters who had gone before them and had left their traces in the pages of the Old Testament.

The Old Testament has a surprising collection of stories about women who stood up to powerful men, some of whom feature in the beautiful book Unveiled by Clare and Micah Hayns. Not all were speaking up about sexual abuse per se, but they share other common features: boldness, courage and truth-telling in the face of violence or threat.

Old Testament sisters

We might think of the two different Old Testament women named Tamar. The first Tamar’s story is told in Genesis and features in Unveiled. The second Tamar’s shocking story is recounted in the book of Samuel. The daughter of King David, she appeals to her lecherous half-brother with remarkable courage and wisdom. ‘No, my brother, do not force me… do not do anything so vile… you would be as one of the scoundrels in Israel’ (2 Samuel 13:12–13). Tragically, Tamar’s entreaty is over-ridden by her rapist, but when she is thrust out from his room afterwards, she raises the outcry, which is the traditional appeal for justice. ‘Tamar put ashes on her head, and tore the long robe that she was wearing; she put her hand on her head, and went away, crying aloud as she went’ (v. 19).

“Rizpah daughter of Aiah took sackcloth and spread it out for herself on a rock. From the beginning of the harvest till the rain poured down from the heavens on the bodies, she did not let the birds touch them by day or the wild animals by night.” 2 Samuel 21:10 – Image by ©MicahHayns

Or we might turn the pages to read of Rizpah, whose two sons were brutally murdered, on King David’s orders, in retribution for a crime their father Saul had committed. To compound this villainy, David allowed their bodies to remain exposed on the hillside for months, a dreadful act in the ancient world. In the face of such injustice, Rizpah, like Tamar, protested vigorously, making a public nuisance of herself as she guarded her sons’ bodies and grieved for them (2 Samuel 21:10). Such actions were dangerous under despotic kings who could easily have their thugs knife you (as one example among many, see 2 Samuel 20:8–10).

Or we could thumb further through our Bibles to read of another despotic king. In the book of Esther we read the story of Vashti, who boldly refused to be objectified by her husband at his debauched party.

Each of these women creatively and boldly called out the violence of a powerful man. They were noisy, stubborn and caused a public nuisance.

But not everyone was able to do that – then, as today. In Judges 19 we read of the horrific gang rape and murder of a secondary wife, thrust into the hands of a mob to protect her husband. She has no voice, her protest is stifled and she does not survive to raise the outcry. And though the act precipitates civil war in Israel, many more women were raped as a direct consequence of that military action, suggesting that the chief motivation was wounded male pride rather than outrage about a woman’s violation.

And so it falls to her sisters to take up her cause. To name the abuse, to call out the abuser, to cry for justice and safety.

In modern times many women have taken up the story of that nameless woman: Bekah Legg of the domestic abuse charity Restored, and biblical scholars Phyllis Trible, Isabelle Hamley and myself (Helen Paynter), to name just four. I am reminded of what took place after the murder of Sarah Everard: the protests on Clapham Common and the Reclaim These Streets movement, which employed public grief to make a wider claim for justice.

Sadly, I can’t think of any good examples in the Old Testament narrative where a man takes up a woman’s cause or speaks effectively on her behalf (Clare’s note: perhaps the story of Suzanna and Daniel in the Apochrapah comes close). But if we keep turning the pages, we will eventually encounter a man who does, and repeatedly. A man who publicly defends a woman whose ‘great sin’ (probably sexual) has been forgiven, and whose gratitude leads her to weep over his feet and anoint them with oil (Luke 7:36-50). We can just imagine the sniggering and lewd remarks that were probably rippling through the onlookers as she did so. Jesus sternly rebukes them.

This is the same man who refuses to join the crowd in baying for the blood of a woman caught in the act of adultery, the crowd that was desperate to vilify the woman while curiously indifferent to the man she was with. Jesus shames the crowd into leaving, and then sends her home with gentle words.

Brothers, be more like Jesus

Because I (Helen) have written about domestic abuse, I find myself invited to speak on the subject from time to time. When the audience is free to choose whether to attend (unlike, for example, when I speak to trainee ministers or priests), it is always predominantly women who attend, usually outnumbering men by around seven to one. Why are men not more interested in this matter? (There are, of course honourable exceptions, such as this.)

Brothers, be more like Jesus, I implore you. Speak out against injustice. Actively stand against abuse. There is so much hatred and harm out there that it requires more than just passive non-complicity.

But the fact that these stories are present in our Bibles should encourage us. The accounts of these ancient women and the things they suffered have not disappeared in the patriarchal sands of time. These women mattered to God, and so he ensured that their stories were preserved in his word. And so they should matter to us, too – they and those who suffer like them in our own day

These stories should encourage contemporary sufferers of abuse to believe that God cares, and maybe to embolden them to speak out.

It is much harder for abuse to thrive when it is brought out of the shadows into the light; when it can no longer hide behind threats, non-disclosure agreements and the old boys’ network.

But, rest assured, in the end all will be revealed:

Nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. Therefore whatever you have said in the dark will be heard in the light, and what you have whispered behind closed doors will be proclaimed from the housetops
Luke 12:2–3

Because, as the psalmist reminds us:

He who planted the ear, does he not hear?
He who formed the eye, does he not see?
Psalm 94:9

Following a career in medicine, Helen Paynter is now a Baptist minister and the director of the Centre for the Study of Bible and Violence at Bristol Baptist College. She is the author of two BRF books – God of Violence Yesterday, God of Love Today? and The Bible Doesn’t Tell Me So: why you don’t have to submit to domestic abuse and coercive control

Leavers’ Address – 2022

An address for Leavers’ Evensong
Christ Church, Oxford, June 12th, 2022
The full service is available to watch on YouTube

Numbers 27. 1-11 and Philippians 4: 1, 4-9

Some of the Christ Church ‘leavers’- 2022

It’s a privilege to be able to speak to you at the end of this academic year, especially to those of you leaving us to move on to pastures new.

I begin with a story.

In the 14^th Century, there was a monk called Brother Bernard who lived in a monastic community. Every day when he left his house an old man in rags stood outside the door and shouted the same two questions to him.

Who are you? Where are you going?

After several months one of the other monks asked Brother Bernard if he wanted something done about the old man. He could be moved on.

Not at all, said Brother Bernard. I pay him in bread to be here every morning to ask me those very questions.

Who are you?

Where are you going?

In your time at Christ Church, you will have been asked and been examined on many and various complex questions. You will have struggled through problem sheets, dissertations, tutes, and submitted thousands of words.

But these two simple questions are crucial and we forget to ask them at our peril.

Who are you? Oxford student, Christ Church member, medic/historian, etc,
gifted at xxx, lover of xxxx, feels fully alive when xxxx (Fill in the blanks)

Also, fallible, weak, vulnerable. pretty useless at xxx, addicted to xxxx, struggles with xxxx (Fill in the blanks)

Where are you going?

Not just what job are you going off to do. Or what internship will you join. Where are you going?

What is it that propels you out of your door in the morning? What is it that fires you, that fills you with life, or joy? Or what is it that fills you with rage or frustration at injustice so much so that you can’t help but speak out.

You may not know yet, but I’d like to suggest that this is a question to keep asking yourself.

Our first reading from Numbers is of a story rarely heard in Church, and is of a group of women who have inspired me over the past couple of years.

Mahlan, Noah, Hoglah, Milcah and Tirzah, the five daughters of Zelophehad.

Their father had died and as this period of history was a classic patriarchal society, all the land belonging to his clan was to be passed to another clan.

And the daughters decided this wasn’t good enough. So they joined together and went to the tent of Moses and the elders. And they argued their case.

‘why should the name of our father be taken away from his clan because he had no son?’
Numbers 27.4

Moses didn’t know what to do. So he prayed.

The Lord said:
‘the daughters of Zelophehad are right in what they are saying; you shall indeed let them possess an inheritance’.
Numbers 27.7

And this transformed women’s land rights for generations of women to follow them.

They knew who they were and where they were going. And they were not afraid to rise up and speak up. What is it that makes you rise up and go the tent of Moses, as it were?

There is much to rise up about isn’t there.

Environmental issues
Racial or LGBTQ or disability inclusion
Integrity in public life

But we don’t do any of this on our own. The daughters of Zelophehad would not have been heard alone. They needed one another.

Archbishop Desmond Tutu died this year. In his book God Has A Dream, he speaks of God who calls people to join in with the work of justice and peace.

All over this magnificent world God calls us to extend His kingdom of shalom-peace and wholeness — of justice, of goodness, of compassion, of caring, of sharing, of laughter, of joy, of reconciliation. God is transfiguring the world right this very moment through us because God believes in us and because God loves us. What can separate us from the love of God? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. And as we share God’s love with our brothers and sisters, God’s other children, there is no tyrant who can resist us, no opposition that cannot be ended, no hunger that cannot be fed, no wound that cannot be healed, no hatred that cannot be turned into love, no dream that cannot be fulfilled’
Archbishop Desmond Tutu. God Has a Dream

Who are you?

The most important aspect of who we are is we are people loved by God. Nothing can separate us from that love.

If you remember nothing else from what I say today remember that. You are loved. Not because you are clever, or you’ve got a degree result that you’re proud of, or even because you have unique gifts you hope to use for the good of the world.

You are loved just because God is a God of Grace

And so where are you going? Well, in some ways that’s a mystery.

But if you hold as a guide a desire that wherever it is you go you extend God’s realm of love, justice, goodness, compassion, caring, sharing, laughter and joy. That’s a pretty good guide for the journey.

And you do that with the blessing of this community of Christ Church.

Desmond Tutu also used to quote a Xhousa word, which is what I’d like to leave you with.

VUKUZENZELE

It means, ‘Get up and do it’

VUKUZENZELE

And so ‘get up and do it’, and do so with all our love and our blessing.

Amen

A Heart of Peace: Lessons from Abigail

From a sermon given at Led by the Spirit, High Wycombe, Bucks – 22nd May 2022

1 Samuel 25
John 14. 23-29

Peace be to you, and peace be to your house, and peace be to all that you have
1 Samuel 25.6

Said David, the outcast future King of Israel to Nabal, the owner of the land David had been protecting.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you
John 14.27

Said Jesus to his disciples just before he was to be taken away to be tried and crucified.

Peace be with you. We say it to one another just before communion as we nod in an Anglican kind of way: certainly no hand shaking or hugging anymore!

Peace.

What is it?

Is it the absence of something? An ending of conflict. The cessation of war?

Or is it a feeling? That feeling you get when you’re on holiday or having a massage?

But we all know that after a war ‘ends’, conflicts can continue to simmer within communities for years.

And I don’t know about you but when I’m meant to FEEL peaceful (on holiday or having a massage) I find I’m anything but. My mind fills with worries. I start chuntering about a problem or annoyance.

So, what does Jesus mean when he says ‘my peace I give to you’?

What does having Jesus’ peace mean when we find ourselves, for whatever reason, in the midst of conflict?

Because conflict is part of human existence isn’t it.

Think for a moment of the conflicts that impact you in some way.

Global – Ukraine is on all our minds
Communities or work situations
Home life/family life

None of us are immune. As soon as one finishes something else begins!

When I was a child, my mother counted the seconds in the morning to see how quickly I would say something mean to my sister that would cause her to cry or shout. Never much more than ten!

Both our readings begin with ‘peace be with you’ – but then both lead pretty quickly into conflict. We know what happened to Jesus soon after this. But the story in 1 Samuel is less well known. As is the main peacemaker – Abigail.

Abigail found herself in the middle of two warring men.

She was married to Nabal, a drunken, boorish man whose name literally means ‘fool’. He was the landowner of the region that David had been protecting with his men.

Nabal threw David’s ‘peace be with you’ back at him by pretending he had no idea who he was (1 Samuel 25.10). David, thin-skinned and easily offended reacted immediately:

‘Every man strap on his sword!’…David also strapped on his sword
1 Samuel 25.13

And they head off to murder Nabal and all his household.

Before we judge too harshly let’s pause to reflect on ourselves here.

We may not have an actual sword or an army of men with swords like David. But let’s be honest, we can all strap on our metaphorical swords when we find ourselves in a conflict. Our weapons may be a caustic tweet, a winning takedown in an argument, an angry gesture in a car, a passive-aggressive ‘ghosting’. We all have our weapons of choice, don’t we?

Abigail is alerted to the conflict by one of Nabal’s men. He knew she was the more sensible one to speak to. And her immediate response isn’t to ‘strap on her sword’ and gather the troops.

Her response was one of peace-making. Her response was considered, thoughtful, and prepared.

The first thing she did?

She baked! OK, she may not have baked it all herself but she knew food was required. I know this may be rather gendered but….a clever woman’s tactic! She prepared fig cakes, loaves, wine and put them all on a donkey, and sent them ahead of her.

She perhaps knew what the modern-day Street Pastors know. They go to nightclubs armed with lollies as they know it’s hard to fight whilst sucking a lolly!

When Abigail reached David (who was chuntering in his anger), she threw herself at his feet and used every peace-making tactic in her repertoire.

She flattered him – ‘my Lord, my Lord’; she told him Nabal wasn’t worth it – ‘fool by name and fool by nature’; and she handed over her gifts.

But the thing that made all the difference in the end?

She raised David’s eyes and reminded him of God. And she reminded him of who he was in the eyes of God.

The Lord has appointed you prince over Israel…. you are fighting the Lord’s battles…..my lord shall have no pangs of conscience’
1 Samuel 25.27-31

Abigail reminds David who he truly was and who he would one day become. And David changes his mind, and puts down his weapons.

Blessed be the Lord who sent you to meet me today…blessed be your good sense.
1 Samuel 25.32

The end of the story is that family is saved. Abigail waits for her husband to sober up before telling him what she’d done, and Nabal is so shocked he had a heart attack and died… and she ends up marrying David (which by all accounts isn’t necessarily a happy ending!)

So what might we learn from Abigail when it comes to peace-making?

That peace is not an absence of conflict or a feeling, but can also be an action. An action that can involve heading into conflict and not hiding away from it.

One of the books I found helpful this past year has been ‘The Anatomy of Peace’ by the Arbinger Institute.

The authors speak of the choice between having a ‘heart of war’ and a ‘heart of peace’ in the midst of conflict. Having a ‘heart of war’ involves seeing people as objects, often using language in a way that dehumanises: this always makes things worse and leads to further conflict.

The alternative is to enter conflict with a ‘heart of peace’: seeing others as people, human beings beloved of God.

It’s been something I keep going back to. I certainly don’t always get it right. If I find I have a ‘heart of war’ I need to seek out Abigail’s to help me look up and remind me who I am.

And this perhaps is what Jesus means when he speaks about the peace he leaves with us. He gives us a heart of peace.

The Hebrew word for peace is Shalom.

It is not the absence of something at all. Shalom means fullness, rightness, contentment, wholeness. Shalom is all things made well.

So, if you are in the midst of a conflict situation right now – Shalom
If you are concerned about a situation involving others – Shalom
If you are stuck in the middle of warring parties like Abigail – Shalom
If you are struggling to find a heart of peace – Shalom

Jesus’ peace isn’t like the world’s peace. It’s the ‘peace that passes all understanding’. It’s Shalom. And he offers this to you, to me today.

Amen

Prayer

God of peace and love,
We thank you that you offer us a peace that passes all understanding. We pray for that peace, that Shalom, today. For ourselves, our world, and for those we love, and especially for those we are in any kind of conflict with. Amen

Milton Keynes Half Marathon

Hello!

I seem to have signed up to run the MK Half Marathon which is on 2nd May (it seemed a good idea at the time!) and could do with some support to keep me going.

The aim is to finish it, and to raise some funds for a good cause.

ZANE supports many vulnerable people in Zimbabwe, and I’m running to support the wonderful work of the team in Harare, which empowers women who have suffered from violence, trauma, and abuse. The project empowers and equips them through creative therapy and education programmes.

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/clare-hayns

ZANE Business Projects

Thanks for taking the time to visit my JustGiving page.

Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to the charity. So it’s the most efficient way to donate – saving time and cutting costs for the charity.

Presentation and Art Workshop for Church/Community Groups

Women of the Old Testament

Clare speaking at an event in Hazlemere, Bucks

How many women from the Old Testament can you name? Did you know the first worship leader in the Bible was a woman (Miriam), that Shiprah and Puah were the brave midwives who stood up to Pharoah, that Abigail was a peacemaker who stopped a war, and that five plucky sisters transformed land rights for women down the centuries?

Clare and Micah Hayns are a mother and son team and together created the book Unveiled: women of the Old Testament and the Choices they made which is published by Bible Reading Fellowship. The book tells the story of over forty women with each chapter written by Clare and illustrated by beautiful and original artwork by Micah.

They would love to come to your church/women’s group/community to speak about the wonderful women of the Old Testament that feature in the book. Their talk brings these stories to life in an engaging and lively way which is illustrated with Micah’s images and can be accompanied by a short art workshop and table discussion questions. It’s suitable for those with no prior knowledge of the Bible/Old Testament as well as those who have been in church for years.

About Clare and Micah

Revd Clare Hayns is College Chaplain & Welfare Coordinator at Christ Church, Oxford. She grew up in rural Bucks, her childhood more Pony Club than church youth group. Pre-ordination she was a Social Worker specialising in substance misuse. She is married to John, an entertainer, and has three creative sons

Born in 1997, Micah Hayns is a contemporary classical painter from Oxford. He takes the classical techniques and tradition of the old masters, whom he studied at the Florence Academy of Art, and infuses them with a contemporary aesthetic, inspired by street art, abstract expressionism, and collage. He has a gallery and studio in Oxford and teaches drawing to children and young people.

Testimonials

Clare and Micah visited one of our regular Ladies’ nights and what a super evening we had! We learned about some awesome women of the Old Testament and Clare had a wonderfully warm way of bringing the stories alive and connecting with both our teenagers and those wise in years. Micah is an outstanding artist and with his gentle direction and encouragement enabled us to create our own masterpieces within 45 minutes! A fabulous evening celebrating awesome woman – then and now – and we felt truly blessed by them both. Thank you for a memorable evening!
Revd Trudie Wigley, Rector of the Dorcan Group, Swindon (March 2022)

Clare and Micah did a fantastic joint presentation for us as part of our Pause for Thought in Marston. Clare bringing to our consciousness the women who’s voices are seldom heard in the old Testament and Micah giving them substance and colour through art and form. The evening was a highlight this year and as one of our parishioners said it was one of the best evenings they have had in a very long time! The fact that Mothering Sunday was close by and we were in Lent made unveiling the Old Testament women even more special.
Revd Skye Denno, Vicar of Old Marston and Elsfield, Oxford

Costs and details

The costs are:
Talk with Q&A – £100 plus travel expenses
Talk with Q&A plus art workshop and table discussion questions – £150 (includes materials) plus travel expenses

The talk lasts approximately 45 mins which includes Q and A
The art workshop/table discussion lasts up to 45 mins
We can also bring along books and prints/original art to sell

Art Workshop using charcoals led by Micah (lasts approx 45 mins) – image is Tamar’s eyes

Three generations of women enjoying an art workshop with Micah

How To Book

To enquire about booking, please contact Clare on haynsclare@gmail.com

Artwork Display

We can also bring along original paintings by Micah Hayns for sale and/or display