This week we have remembered two clouds: a cloud of glory
and a cloud of shame. The cloud of glory
came on Thursday when the church calendar remembered the Transfiguration. This is the story in the gospels when Jesus
takes a few close companions up the mountain and while he is praying he is
transfigured, they see beyond the outer appearance to the inner glory of God within. It is couched in all sorts of imagery which
is reminiscent of Moses’ encounters with God on his mountainside: face and
clothes shining, and there is a cloud from which God speaks (Luke
9:28-36). We were given a
cloud of glory, a symbol of mystery, awe and wonder. In this moment of transfiguration on the mountainside,
we are invited to enter into the cloud of mystery with the disciples and see
something of the fullness of God’s glory revealed in Jesus Christ.
But history has given us a darker cloud on 6th
August too. Thursday was also the 70th
anniversary of the dropping of the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima. A few days later, 70 years ago today, a
second bomb was dropped on Nagasaki. It
is estimated that 129,000 people died in those raids and many, many more
suffered life-changing injuries, the consequences still seen today. When I mentioned this in various places and
services on Thursday and Friday I was struck by the response. It wasn't a particularly representative sample
but there was an audible revulsion and sense of horror that these bombs had
been used. The awesome destructive power
triggered a sense that they must never be used again. I found this interesting given there had been debates back at the
General Election about Trident. This group, at least, have a strong
feeling that these weapons are evil and it is unthinkable to think of using
them, let alone to do so, knowing what we now know. I’ve heard military strategists refer to
Trident as yesterday’s solution to yesterday’s problems. But the technology cannot be uninvented, so we
have had to live in an age with a weapon no sane person would dream of
using. And an insane one wouldn’t be
deterred by knowing others have it.
Speaking in a radio broadcast 70 years ago today, the US
President, Harry S Truman said:
“I realize the tragic significance of the
atomic bomb ... It is an awful responsibility which has come to us ... We thank
God that it has come to us, instead of to our enemies; and we pray that He may
guide us to use it in His ways and for His purposes.”
That is a heady mix of facing the stark reality of what they
have done while thinking God thinks this is OK.
I don’t think there are purposes that can be linked to God that justify
the use of such weapons. They are
dreamed up from evil intent and fail the test of just war theory: they are not
proportionate and noncombatants are not protected.
So we have today two clouds, one of glory and one of
shame. How do we allow the former to
remove the latter? Our readings gave us
some clues that are worth heeding.
Firstly, our gospel reading has been working through, over
these last few weeks, the long passage in John’s gospel where Jesus feeds 5,000
people with very meagre provisions and then teaches about himself as the true
bread, the bread of life. And we heard
the third section today (John 6:35, 41-51); there will more
over the next two weeks. It has
Eucharistic overtones to it; John does not give the Last Supper in his
gospel. This is as close as he gets to
expounding a theology of Communion. John
doesn’t give us the Transfiguration either, but this teaching is close to
it. Referring to Jesus as the bread of
life, he requires us to look more deeply into who he is, into who he brings to
be among us. John is after all the
gospel that begins with a long prologue expounding that ‘in the beginning was
the Word’ and that Word came among us ‘full of grace and truth’. The bread of life is Christ among us,
inspiring, nourishing with his grace, with his love, with his transforming
presence. To understand what that means
to counter clouds of shame, the glory revealed gives a new commandment to love,
brings forgiveness and reconciliation, comes to save not condemn. This is a radical new way; radical because it
takes us back to the fundamental principles revealed in the Bible, often
overlooked or forgotten, but they are there.
The new commandment to love, the radical way of love and
peace, challenges us to look around and see beyond outer appearances to the
inner glory within each person, to see the gift and blessing that we are to one
another and are to be to one another, and the world. If we serve Christ in those we meet, as an
unknown guest, then we see his glory in them too and that should change how we
behave, because they too are beloved children of God, heirs of grace and the
reason for his coming; meeting them is to stand on holy ground. Christ came to draw us into the heart of God,
that we may become divine, to quote an ancient writer. There is within each of us the seed of glory. Our life is special coming as it does from
the desire of God’s will and purpose.
That should affect us. The divine
devotion at the Transfiguration changes how we see one another as well.
The reading from Ephesians (4:25-5:2) gave a
list of virtues to replace vices.
Falsehood replaced by truth, making no room for evil intent when angry,
honesty to replace theft, using our words to build up rather than breed hatred,
putting away bitterness and wrangling and being kind to one another
instead. Beneath all of this, holding it
up, is the appeal to be imitators of God, living in love as Christ has loved us
and gave himself for us. The way of
self-giving, gracious love is to triumph over hatred and death. The cloud of glory is to triumph over the
cloud of shame.
When there are threats, whether that is violence or hostile
words and bullying, a fight or flight response is triggered within us. Self preservation wants to find safety and
that might mean running for cover or making a stand where we either survive or
are overcome. There are plenty of
passages in the Bible where protecting and entering the struggle to overcome
oppression is taken for granted. This is
why we have a theory of Just War; a desire to limit when violence begets
violence. But even if a violent response
is assumed or required, it is not a place to stop. And it is not to be the first response either. There is a better way and when we seek to be
a follower of the Way of Jesus we learn that love overcomes hatred and the
tools used for weapons are turned into implements to feed, to bring life rather
than death. Love triggers a very
different response.
When Jesus says that he is the bread of life feeding on him,
following him, being filled with the grace that was within him and displayed on
the mountainside at the Transfiguration, changes how we are to behave if we are
to honour the glory within. The cloud of
glory is to dominate and drive away the cloud of shame.
Sermon preached at Peterborough Parish Church, Sunday 9th August 2015
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