Thursday, September 24, 2020

Racial Justice (1): Holy ground & calling - called out of slavery



Exodus 3:1-15

3 Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. 2 There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. 3 Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” 4 When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” 5 Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” 6 He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

7 Then the Lord said, “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry on account of their taskmasters. Indeed, I know their sufferings, 8 and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians, and to bring them up out of that land to a good and broad land, a land flowing with milk and honey, to the country of the Canaanites, the Hittites, the Amorites, the Perizzites, the Hivites, and the Jebusites. 9 The cry of the Israelites has now come to me; I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them. 10 So come, I will send you to Pharaoh to bring my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt.” 11 But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh, and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?” 12 He said, “I will be with you; and this shall be the sign for you that it is I who sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God on this mountain.”

13 But Moses said to God, “If I come to the Israelites and say to them, ‘The God of your ancestors has sent me to you,’ and they ask me, ‘What is his name?’ what shall I say to them?” 14 God said to Moses, “I am who I am.” He said further, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘I am has sent me to you.’” 15 God also said to Moses, “Thus you shall say to the Israelites, ‘The Lord [‘I AM’], the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you’: This is my name forever, and this my title for all generations.

A ‘cutting’ of tree wisdom (Genny Tunbridge)

What kind of plant was the burning bush, and what meaning does it have?

Jewish commentaries interpreted it as symbolising the experience of the enslaved Israelites. Reading between the lines a bit, scholars deduced that the bush must have been a thorn bush - thorns representing the savage prison of slavery:

“Just as this bush was the thorniest of all the trees in the world, in that any bird that entered into it could not manage to exit without tearing itself limb from limb, likewise was the slavery of Israel in Egypt the most oppressive slavery in the world.”[1]

There were theories about what kind of bush: a type of acacia, or a variety of blackberry prone to catching fire in the summer heat? But the exact species is less important than the fact that this was not some lofty, majestic tree like the cedar of Lebanon but a humble shrub, lowly as the downtrodden, humiliated Israelites. The flames too were symbolic, representing the peril of the Israelites’ captivity in Egypt. Elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, their plight is often referred to in terms of blazing heat - ‘the iron furnace’ (eg Jeremiah 11.4).

God speaking from within the burning bush was therefore understood to be a sign of the Lord’s compassionate presence with the Israelites, identifying with them in their suffering; and the bush unconsumed by the flames represents God’s protection. God calls Moses to help his people not from on high but from a place of fellow-suffering and saving solidarity.

Introduction to the theme (Al Barrett)

We’ve spent the last four weeks celebrating God’s good creation, lamenting our disconnection within it, and exploring possibilities for a different way of inhabiting our planet. This week, we’re shifting our focus, from creation as a whole, to some more specific human relationships within it: those that have been shaped, and distorted, by unjust power relationships based on the different colours of our skin – what we call ‘race’.

At least three things have happened this year that have made it more urgent than ever for us, as a multi-coloured Christian community in multi-cultural Birmingham, to make this a vital focus for our reflections on Christian faith and discipleship.

Firstly, on 25th May, a 46-year-old black man, George Floyd, was murdered in Minneapolis by white police officers, who brutally restrained him and knelt on his neck while he repeatedly gasped “I can’t breathe”. The Black Lives Matter protests across the world in response to Floyd’s killing were on a scale rarely seen by any previous generation.

Secondly, it became clear early on in the COVID19 pandemic that, in the UK, people from Black, Asian and other minority ethnic backgrounds were dying at a higher rate than those from White ethnic backgrounds. This highlighted, among other things, stubborn links between race, poverty, poor housing and working conditions, and worse access to healthcare. The way our country is organised makes you more likely to be poor, and to die, if your skin is black or brown.

And thirdly, in response to the ‘Windrush scandal’ in which the government has been stripping British subjects from the Caribbean, many of whom have lived and worked in this country for 50-60 years, of their citizenship and right to remain here, the Church of England held a debate in its February General Synod in which the Archbishop of Canterbury apologised for the Church’s history, and its present reality, as ‘institutionally racist’. Not long after this, a book was published offering much more evidence to support that, by a black Anglican priest, Fr Azariah France-Williams: Ghost Ship: Institutional Racism in the Church of England.

The time to face racism in our country, and in our churches, then, is well and truly overdue. It’s a question about our past (the historic entanglement of British history, and the history of British churches, with the transatlantic slave trade), but also about our present. Racism isn’t just about individual acts (using hurtful words, or discriminating unjustly) and individual people (the nasty skinheads who do Nazi salutes). Racism is what we call systemic: it affects our assumptions and attitudes, our habits and relationships, our communities and gatherings, our structures and strategies.

In Hodge Hill, a small number of us, black and white, began a conversation last year, where we began reading two books (White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo, and We Need to Talk about Race by Ben Lindsay), and meeting together to share our responses and reflections, and our experiences of racism in our own lives. We had planned another session in late March, which the COVID lockdown put a stop to. But we had resolved, as a group, that this was a conversation that could not, must not, lose momentum. Black members of our church congregation continue to experience racism as a daily reality in the world, and have experienced it in churches too, including our own. We pride ourselves here on being an ‘Inclusive Church’ – but we still have a long way to go, especially if we tell ourselves ‘we’re alright here’, or ‘I don’t see colour’. We have a long way to go to be genuinely anti-racist in our shared life and worship, and public witness and action as a church.

So we’ve given ourselves a month – certainly not our last chance, but not our first either – to spend a significant amount of time together, paying attention to the critical issue of racial justice, in both the world and the church. During this month, we will have the opportunity to hear black voices lead our reflections on Scripture, and on the life of the world, the life and mission of the Church, and our diverse, unique experiences of life. Some of those black voices will be from within our local church community here in Hodge Hill. Some of them will be from the wider Church – ministers and theologians from Anglican, URC and Methodist churches. And there will also be some space (both within these weekly resources, as well as in the various opportunities for us to meet and talk together that we offer every week) for white voices to be heard, responding to what they/we have heard from our black sisters and brothers.

What are we hoping for, from this month? As Fr Azariah puts it: ‘[b]lack and brown people are not asking for white protectors, but they are asking for partners who see, hear and speak up for the full human flourishing of black and brown people. They are asking for partners who will fight alongside them against racism in the arena, not just cheer them on from the safety of the stadium seats: white people who speak up, listen up and look up, whether or not those people of colour are in the meetings.’[2] This is a chance for us to listen to each other, especially to voices that have been less heard, and for each of us to respond, from our unique life-story and location, in solidarity together, engaging in the particular work that God is calling each of us to: to do justice, to love with kindness, and to walk humbly with our God (Micah 6:8).

And if we do, we may discover, like Moses, that we are standing not just on common ground but on holy ground: where we are fully present to each other, and where God is fully present to us. In our community-building work here, we often repeat a quote first expressed by a group of native Australian activists. It is profoundly relevant for this work together too:

“If you have come here to help us,
then you are wasting our time.
But if you have come
because your liberation is bound up with ours,
then let us work together.”

Reflection: ‘The God who sees’ (Revd Dr Sharon Prentis)

Sharon is Intercultural Mission Enabler and Dean of Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic Affairs in the diocese of Birmingham

I am not by nature, someone who has green fingers. However, earlier this year I managed to grow, much to my delight, a variety of vegetables and flowers in my garden. Like many people, the last few months has made me think differently about things such as, “how I define myself” and “what makes me who I am?”. Learning to garden in a time of disruption helped me realise there are many other things I could do.

In the story of the burning bush in Exodus 3, we see God begin the work of liberation, of the people of Israel out of Egypt, by disrupting Moses’ routine in the desert. At the time of the story Moses is 80 years of age, and for the last 40 years he has lived in exile. A man who was destined to be a Prince of Egypt is now a shepherd. The first half of his life was spent in luxury, the second in relative obscurity. I would imagine that any individual, especially someone who had the opportunities like Moses would have wondered occasionally how things might have been. To go from Pharaoh’s court to being a shepherd must have been a difficult transition and caused him to lose hope. These though, were the condition for a huge shift in his expectations. For it is in the desert, he sees the burning bush and after 40 years of herding sheep that must have been a sight!

It is sometimes in the difficult places that our attention is drawn to what we must see. Here in that difficult place away from the false comforts of Egypt, bought at expense of the enslavement of others, is where God catches Moses attention. God calls him by name first, then calls him into a sacred encounter through the symbolic act of removing his sandals. This recognises something extraordinary is happening because Moses is named by God the divine ‘I AM’:

Moses, Moses I know you take off your shoes and worship me and through that worship I will completely restore you and there you will discover your destiny.

In God’s statement of being called ‘I AM’ Moses understands his own identity and his destiny or call.  God reminds Moses of his ancestral heritage and God’s presence with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob ordinary folk, people who did not lead exemplary lives. People who had to live with the reality of their own brokenness. Moses is about to join the great company of the chosen: Abraham who lied, Isaac who did the same and Jacob who stole his brother’s inheritance. It is important to remind ourselves that God uses imperfect people to bring about an act of divine deliverance for others.

After Moses’ encounter with God, he understood that God was going to use him to deliver a nation in bondage; and more importantly, he understands this as being part of his own destiny, his call. Once he grasps this there is no holding him back. You see, our identity, what are we created to be once given freely to a loving God enables us to do the things that we are called to do; but first, we have to first recognise that we are worthy to called to be who we are. Moses recognised that he was not defined by his past, but who he was, his core identity was defined by a greater identity, the one called ‘I Am’– the God who sees, and in whose image everyone can be seen.

This month as we celebrate Black History, the story of the exodus from Egypt is even more poignant given the tragedies of the last few months. History, when told from the perspective of the marginalised, reflects the barren and difficult places in the human story. Slavery and its legacy of subjugation and oppression still has a devastating impact today. For over 165 years, Britain played a significant role in promoting it. Millions of people were trafficked across the Atlantic- many losing their lives before reaching land. This period was marked by brutality, humiliation and death. Black bodies were regarded as property and sold because of greed and fear. Sadly, the church was complicit in the trade with many slave ships being blessed by bishops before they commenced their maiden voyages. On the island of Barbados in the Caribbean, it was known that after slavery was abolished in 1837 the Church of England received financial compensation from the government for the slaves it owned. Today, that would amount to hundreds of thousands of pounds. The sad truth is the legacy of slavery still has repercussions. Black people are still livings with the effects of those times. The social and psychological consequences of post-traumatic stress arising from the disintegration of generations of families and the economic disadvantages from inequality. Bishop Rose Hudson- Wilkin said, “The impact of slavery has damaged not only these people, but the fabric of society”. We need to look back to go forward, because what happened historically is still impacting today; and, if we can’t stop and recognise this, we won’t be able to address it.”

The God who sees, calls us, like Moses, to join in with the work of liberation so that we all can be free. Moses was in the right place at the right time to understand his call and what God would do through him to bless others. Before then, he had learned to live a quiet life thinking he was unseen in the desert. The God who sees caught Moses attention and called on him to fulfil his destiny.

Reflection (Joy Curtis)

Almost everyone knows the story about Moses and the ‘burning bush’, when he appeared on the mountain; saw a ball of fire which was not burning anything around it.  Out of these flames a voice called out to Moses and asked him to remove his sandals, as he was standing on Holy Ground.  The presence of God created this Holiness. This tells me that I could have my calling from God at any time, any place; anywhere when I least expect it. God is divine and it is very humbling when we are told He appeared from the burning bush. How often do we see rubbish burning in the bushes, often set alight by vandals; or the farmer burning his field after reaping the best of his crops and what is left over is deemed worthless only to be burned and turned into compost to enrich the soil for the next crop.  Does this not show that God can change everything, every human being for the good of His Kingdom? When God appeared to Moses in such an environment it is nothing short of extreme humility.  Whenever I receive my calling to do God’s work it will be a case of being called as I am.

The question is however, why did God call Moses; What role did God have up his sleeves for him to carry out? The scripture further tells us that God was not happy with the way in which the Israelites were being treated by the Egyptians, v.9 ‘the cry of the Israelites has now come to me, I have also seen how the Egyptians oppress them’.  This oppression was slavery – where one person is owned by another and treated as property and forced to give his labour under very harsh conditions. This story of God’s people held in bondage was popularised by the late international reggae singer Bob Marley in his song ‘Exodus, movement of Jah people’, meaning stop the oppression of God’s people and release them from bondage.   This is the message that God wanted Moses to convey to the Egyptian rulers. Moses was therefore upgraded from being animal minder to God’s messenger in order to free the slaves.

Slavery has come a long way since biblical times. Anyone can be enslaved, but the enslavement of black people at the hands of the white European ruling classes is one of history’s greatest atrocities. Between 10 million and 12 million black people were forcibly taken by white people from Africa and transported to places such as the West Indies and North America to work in sugar and cotton plantations, until campaigners such as William Wilberforce and Olaudah Equiano got slavery abolished in the 1830s.

Since this time, however, black people have continued to face injustice, inequality and discrimination by their white counterparts.  Research has shown that black people are more likely to be sent to prison for minor offences, suffer higher rates of unemployment and have recently been hit very hard by the Covid-19 pandemic, including suffering more deaths working on the frontline within the healthcare delivery system. These inequalities in our society are linked to what is called ‘white privilege’.  This is defined by BBC Newsround as ‘people with white skin having advantages in society that other people do not have’. Basically, the odds are stacked against me because I am black. I am treated less favourably by some white people and institutions.  This has been my life.  This is lived experience and rich data.

I often feel that I have to pay the penalty for being born black.  I have experienced racism, injustice and discrimination in the most appalling ways:

· my windows have been egged and broken;

· mud has been thrown all over my washing hanging on the line to dry;

· my car has been spat on when parked and whilst waiting at traffic lights;

· I’ve been called negative names such as ‘blackie’, ‘monkey’, ‘nigga’, ‘gorilla’ (these are only the names that common decency allows me to include);

·         whilst sitting on a train I had peanuts shoved into my face and the man who did this said ‘he wanted to make me feel at home!’.  I was so humiliated and embarrassed.  I recalled at Sunday School we were always taught to ‘turn the other cheek’. Matt. 5:39. I’m pretty sure this saved me from a possible prison sentence.

Even the Church discriminates against people of colour. I’ve had first-hand experience of this.  Years gone by I was never asked to contribute to worship in any meaningful way.  I would just sit at the back of the Church for an hour, then go home again.  Luckily, things have now changed for the better and the Church now takes a more inclusive approach.

The recent ‘Black Lives Matter Movement’ borne out of the unlawful killing of the American black man George Floyd has drawn international condemnation of the treatment of black people for no other reason but the colour of their skin.  Better understanding and cultural awareness is needed if black and minority ethnic people are to live in harmony in the way in which God intended when he created the Earth. This is probably a Utopian perception, but with God all things are possible and we live in hope. Black History must be taught in schools, the significant contribution made by black people to make Britain a ‘Great Nation State’ should be highlighted as part of the standard history curriculum in schools. The negative perceptions and stereotypical views of black people must change. 

Moses had his calling and was promoted from being animal minder to God's messenger who appealed to Pharaoh to end slavery and release His people from bondage. It does not matter who we are, God can uplift us to great heights. God has created all of us in His own image and accepts us no matter what our appearance. The late American Civil Rights activist Martin Luther King said in one of his speeches "I have a dream that people will be judged by the content of their character and not the colour of their skin.” We may still be a long way off, but again we live in hope. I may be angry, and a little impatient whilst I am waiting for change but I thank God that I am surrounded by so much love by both black and white people.  I refuse to hate. If it happened to God's people in biblical times; it can happen to us. God will take his long-suffering people to that land flowing with milk and honey.

Reflection (Penny Hall)

‘I have observed the misery of my people…’ says God in today’s reading. I wonder how well I have observed the misery of people who were classed as a different ‘race’ in order to justify people making money out of keeping them in slavery over 200 years ago. And how well am I observing that suffering now?

From the early 1980s, for many years, I worked in a college of further education. The college had clearly tried to ensure that there was equality of opportunity for all racial groups. Students, tutors, heads of department and assistant principals included people of colour. Staff groups were set up to ensure that opportunities for students of colour were being promoted. My perception was that the college certainly seemed to be proactive in promoting racial justice. On a personal level, I prided myself in being ‘colourblind’, having friends and colleagues who were people of colour.

Fast forward now a couple of decades. Last year, Al recommended two books on the theme of racial (in)justice. The first book, ‘White fragility’ by Robin DiAngelo seemed to me to accuse white women in particular of turning racism around so that they (we!) became the victims – hurt by the very suggestion that we might be racist. DiAngelo implied that ‘colour blindness’ was an excuse for not noticing what was going on. I felt that the book was aimed at the US, not the UK. (There’s not much racism here is there?) The second book, ‘We need to talk about race’ by Ben Lindsay spread the load of guilt to the church’s past and present performance regarding racial justice. Both these books left me feeling uncertain about my current understanding of racial justice. However, it wasn’t until Al invited those of us who had read the books to a small discussion group, that my eyes were opened. Friends of colour shared examples of recent racism which they were experiencing on an almost daily basis. I was stunned as I hadn’t realised this was happening. Because I hadn’t seen it, I hadn’t understood it.

Then I was introduced to a third book, ‘Ghost Ship’ by Azariah France-Williams, which deals with institutional racism in the Church of England. Within the first few pages, I really saw and understood. I didn’t feel accused but now I could see enough to accuse myself! The author explains through stories how the ‘unseen nuances of racism’ wear people down. One description especially hit me: ‘These mini assaults on one’s personhood are death by a thousand paper cuts’. This book, together with listening to people’s personal experiences, has helped me to understand what I had previously failed to see, that racism is not always obvious, often hardly noticeable to the casual observer, but cutting to the recipient.

‘I have observed the misery of my people…
I know their sufferings
and I have come down to deliver them from the Egyptians’.

Now that I have seen the suffering, I want to listen more and to know. And then what am I going to do about it? Steve Chalke, in his endorsement of ‘Ghost Ship’, says ‘Racism thrives best in the company of silence’! So perhaps that’s my starting point, to watch, to listen and to not be silent.

Some prayers to begin this month:

To God we pray:
who sees us whatever we or others try to hide.
We pray to the one
who shows us the working is in the margins
and makes that place home;
who makes the out, in;
who gives the keys of the kingdom
to those who forge faith at the well… in the cave… in the hold…
to those who know the Cross.
Gather us we pray.
Open our hearts to reality.
Create in us clean hearts
and renew a right spirit within.
Amen.

Lord, your Gospel rises
when the mighty are cast down from their thrones
and the lowly are lifted up.
It is good news when the lowly exhale
all of the abundant gift that has been held in.
We pray for a church that believes in God,
and God’s wide abundance and gift.
We pray for the love that is stronger than death.
Amen.

Spirit, who hovered over the waters,
welcome in this place.
Aid us in our memory.
Rewire our flawed minds.
We cry out for the souls of all who have been enslaved,
of all who have been the victims of racist brutality,
of all who have been seen as less than human
because of the colour of their skin.
We recognise the gifts of survivors
and nurture into flourishing those who now see
the black beauty that God has always seen.
Amen.

Let us rejoice and give thanks
for brave slaves who no longer
merely plug the holes of broken vessels,
for those who inspire us to say yes to God’s will and way,
who hear the Spirit speaking through the reality of life
and with whole hearts agree
that the answer is yes, Lord, yes.
In the name of the Holy Trinity.
Amen.

Adapted from prayers by Fr Richard Springer, 1st August 2020,
at the launch of Azariah France-Williams’ book, Ghost Ship.

Questions for reflection / discussion

As I read / listened to the readings and reflections for this week…

·         what did I notice, or what particularly stood out for me?

 

·         what did they make me wonder, or what questions am I pondering?

 

·         what have they helped me realise?

 

·         is there anything I want to do or change in the light of this week's topic?

 

On this week’s theme (questions offered by Sharon Prentis)

1.       In your life, what is catching your attention today?

 

2.       Call / destiny is always in relation to other people; who are the ‘others’ for you?

 

3.       What small step might you take towards getting a vision of what God wants to show you?

 

Activities / conversation-starters
with young (and not-so-young!) people (Ruth Harley)

  • In today’s story, Moses learns something about his identity. Spend some time thinking about your identity. Who are you? What makes you who you are? Draw a picture of yourself, or find a photo of yourself. Around the picture, write some words or draw some symbols of different aspects of your identity.
  • Moses also learns something about God’s identity. Spend some time thinking about God’s identity. How many different names or images can you think of for God? Make a list, or draw some pictures. You could ask your family, friends, or other people from church what they think about who God is. Which names or images of God do you like? Are there any you don’t like, or have questions about?
  • God calls Moses to lead people out of slavery and into freedom. In our reflections today, we heard a bit about slavery and how it is linked to racism. You can read some more about that here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/newsround/52965665 Think about all the ways slavery has affected people, and the ways its legacy still affects people today. Sometimes it is hard to know how to pray about such a big, difficult situation. Make a list of key words, people involved, or collect or create some images, to use as a prompt for prayer.

 

Tuesday, September 15, 2020

Creation season (4): human injustice and disconnection from creation


Isaiah 5:5-7

And now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard.
I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured;
I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down.
I will make it a waste; it shall not be pruned or hoed,
    and it shall be overgrown with briers and thorns;
I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it.

For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel,
and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting;
he expected justice, but saw bloodshed;
righteousness, but heard a cry!
8
Ah, you who join house to house, who add field to field,
until there is room for no one but you,
    and you are left to live alone in the midst of the land!


Jeremiah 9:10-14

10 Take up weeping and wailing for the mountains,
    and a lamentation for the pastures of the wilderness,
because they are laid waste so that no one passes through,
    and the lowing of cattle is not heard;
both the birds of the air and the animals have fled and are gone.
11 I will make Jerusalem a heap of ruins, a lair of jackals;
and I will make the towns of Judah a desolation, without inhabitant.

12 Who is wise enough to understand this? To whom has the mouth of the Lord spoken, so that they may declare it? Why is the land ruined and laid waste like a wilderness, so that no one passes through? 13 And the Lord says: Because they have forsaken my law that I set before them, and have not obeyed my voice, or walked in accordance with it, 14 but have stubbornly followed their own hearts and have gone after the Baals, as their ancestors taught them.


Hosea 4:1-3, 5:15 - 6:3

Hear the word of the Lord, O people of Israel;
    for the Lord has an indictment against the inhabitants of the land.
There is no faithfulness or loyalty,
    and no knowledge of God in the land.
Swearing, lying, and murder, and stealing and adultery break out;
    bloodshed follows bloodshed.
Therefore the land mourns, and all who live in it languish;
together with the wild animals and the birds of the air,
    even the fish of the sea are perishing.

5 15 I will return again to my place, [says the Lord],
    until they acknowledge their guilt and seek my face.
    In their distress they will beg my favour:

“Come, let us return to the Lord;
    for it is he who has torn, and he will heal us;
    he has struck down, and he will bind us up.
After two days he will revive us; on the third day he will raise us up,
    that we may live before him.
Let us know, let us press on to know the Lord;
    his appearing is as sure as the dawn;
he will come to us like the showers,
    like the spring rains that water the earth.”

Ark - by Simon Armitage

They sent out a dove
It wobbled home, wings slicked in a rainbow of oil
A sprig of tinsel snagged in its beak
A yard of fishing line binding its feet

Bring back, bring back the leaf

They sent out an arctic fox
It plodded the bays of the Northern fringe
in muddy socks and a nylon cape.

Bring back, bring back the leaf

Bring back the reed and the reef
set the ice sheet back on its frozen plinth,
tuck the restless water course into its bed,
sit the glacier down on its highland throne,
put the snow-cap back on the mountain peak.
Let the Northern lights be the Northern lights
not the alien glow over Glasgow or Leeds.

A camel capsized in a tropical flood.
Caimans dozed in Antarctic lakes.
Polymers rolled in the sturgeon’s blood.
Hippos wandered the housing estates.

Bring back, bring back the leaf.

Bring back the tusk and the horn unshorn.
Bring back the fern, the fish, the frond and the fowl,
the golden toad and the pygmy owl.
revisit the scene where swallowtails fly
through acres of unexhausted sky

They sent out a boat
Go little breaker,
splinter the pack- ice and flows,
nose through the rafts and pads of wrappers
and bottles and nurdles and cans,
the bergs and atolls and islands and states
of plastic bags and micro beads
and the forests of smoke.

Bring back, bring back the leaf,
bring back the river and sea.

Introduction to the theme (Al Barrett)

We’ve reached the final week of our month-long Creation season, focusing on the world that God has created, and our place within it as human beings. Last week we looked at the ‘just-so story’ in Genesis chapter 3, and we explored the idea of Sin (with a capital S) as our disconnection: from our fellow human beings, from the earth and all its creatures, from God – and even from our own selves.

This week we explore three passages from the Hebrew Bible (the Christian ‘Old Testament’) which describe fertile earth being ‘laid waste’ (Jeremiah 9), becoming a hostile, inhospitable wilderness, ‘overgrown with briers and thorns’ (Isaiah 5). We hear the prophet Hosea describing the land as ‘mourning’. These are glimpses of the flip side of what we saw in Psalm 96 (in week 10), which tells of the earth ‘rejoicing’, the sea ‘roaring’, the field ‘exulting’, and the trees ‘singing for joy’. If the non-human world can praise God, it seems it is also capable of lamenting. And all of this is as a result of what human beings have done: the response of the earth itself (with the support of its Creator) to human greed, injustice and bloodshed (Isaiah 5 and Hosea 4), to humans forsaking God’s laws and not listening to God’s voice (Jeremiah 9). These passages paint a stark picture of how what we human beings do, and how the earth responds, are entangled together.

We’ve not quoted the passage here (mostly because it’s got some difficult stuff about sex in it that we’d need a whole separate session to unpick!), but in Leviticus chapter 18 we hear the boldest example of this imagery: when what human beings do ‘defiles’ the land, the land itself ‘vomits out its inhabitants’ (Lev. 18:25). But if we follow through the story in that book of the bible, we also catch some glimmers of hope. As the humans are ‘scattered’ and the land is made ‘desolate’, then the land gets to enjoy the time of ‘sabbath rest’ that it has been longing for (Lev. 26:33-35, 43). And this ‘breathing space’ for the land also offers the scattered humans some time to reflect on their injustice and hostility, and an opportunity to discover some humility and to begin to ‘make amends’ (Lev. 26:40-42). God remains faithful, and does not forget her human creatures, any more than she forgets the earth she has also made. This is also the promise that the people hold on to in Hosea’s prophecy: returning to God, acknowledging their Sin, rediscovering their connection with the land, and a renewal of a healthy ecology (including the return of rain to thirsty ground), all go hand in hand. This promise, for a people exiled, disconnected, from their roots, is but a whisper today. But in the coming months, as we approach and then enter Advent, we will hear it repeated, with growing strength.

Might we wonder, as we reflect on the experience of the last few months in the grip of the COVID-19 pandemic, both through our own eyes and from the perspective of the earth itself… have we perhaps caught a glimpse of the earth’s ‘vomiting’, an involuntary response of the non-human world to human habits of greed and disconnection?[1] Has the enforced ‘scattering’ of human beings to our homes, away from our usual gathering places and access to global travel, given the earth just a little ‘breathing space’? And has it offered us an opportunity to reflect, repent, and rediscover a more healthy, connected way of living with each other, with the earth, and with God? And if the answer to those questions is ‘Yes’, then what – we need to ask ourselves – has changed, or is changing, for good?

Reflection (Genny Tunbridge)

I knew roughly what I wanted to say in this reflection by last Sunday evening. And then I watched David Attenborough’s powerful, heart-wrenching documentary, Extinction: The Facts – which said it all for me, more eloquently and with pictures too! So, I could just stop here and encourage you all to go and watch it, if you haven’t already.  But the uncomfortable, disturbing truth needs to be heard and this is an opportunity to reflect on it together, so here goes…

Attenborough’s documentary presented the shocking statistics: one million species out of the total eight million on earth are threatened with extinction. Since 1970, populations of vertebrates have declined by 60%. Extinction is a natural process; the problem is the extent - hundreds of times faster than the natural evolutionary rate, and accelerating. Prehistoric mass extinctions were caused by volcanoes or meteors, but scientists believe we are now in the middle of another mass extinction event – this time caused by human activity.

These losses are not just affecting large, exotic, photogenic mammals (though these are the ones which grab our attention - like the only two surviving northern white rhinos in the world, Najin and her daughter Fatu, who featured in the documentary). We are also losing all kinds of birds, fish, insects and plants. And it’s not just happening in the teeming rainforests but on our doorstep. Over the past 200 years, over 400 species have been lost from England alone – including 22 species of bee, 78 of beetles, 7 kinds of bird and 5 kinds of butterfly – to name only those beginning with ‘b’.  The Species Recovery Trust keeps an archive of lost native species, which lists the reasons for each one’s extinction. It makes for a sad litany: habitat destruction, agricultural intensification, pollution, drainage of wetlands, poor land management, egg collecting, hunting, urban development, overfishing, climate change, loss of mature trees… 

A similar set of destructive activities is responsible for global biodiversity loss. Some of this human behaviour, like overfishing, poaching and hunting, is a deliberate choice to kill creatures for our own consumption or for profit – prioritising immediate gratification over long-term sustainability. Much destruction is not intended but rather a careless consequence of our (mis)management of natural resources, relentlessly and heedlessly pursuing growth, cheap food and profit for the benefit of humans alone, either unaware of or choosing to ignore the impact this has on the rest of creation. If we carry on like this, we will indeed be alone, fulfilling Isaiah’s startling prophecy:

Ah, you who join house to house, who add field to field,
until there is room for no one but you,
    and you are left to live alone in the midst of the land!

Over two thousand years ago, already the prophets knew how damaging human behaviour could be. Greed and violence, selfishness and indifference, cut us off not only from our human neighbours but from all our sisters and brothers in creation. The trouble is that too often we don’t acknowledge that kinship – we find it hard enough to treat fellow humans as brothers and sisters when they look different; how much harder we have found it to recognise that other creatures, from mountain gorillas to tiny beetles, have equal value and a right to thrive.

But though we struggle to care about all these threatened creatures for their own sake, we are beginning to (re)discover that our well-being is ultimately bound up with theirs.  Most of us haven’t noticed the disappearance of many insect species, and would not, if we’re honest, be particularly upset by their loss. But - as one scene in the documentary dramatically showed - a diversity of insects is vital for breaking down organic matter and maintaining healthy soil. When too many insects are lost, we will end up with a dustbowl that no amount of chemical fertiliser can put right.  It’s not just about soil:  the more diverse and species-rich any ecosystem is, the more resilient it is to change. And though the existence of one endangered species may not appear to have any benefit for humans, its loss will have an impact on us all. A single link in a spider’s web may not seem important, “but the links altogether provide the web with strength and stability. If enough links are lost however the entire web will collapse in the slightest gust of wind. Humans are as intrinsically part of this web as any other organism on the planet.”[2]

The current pandemic is one example of how damage to one part of the web of nature has far-reaching consequences and can lead to a major collapse, affecting human society. The growing frequency and severity of viral pandemics in the last century seems to be a result of intensifying human disruption of nature; deforestation and climate change cause stress and migration in animals and create opportunities for viruses to transfer to humans. So the enforced isolation and disconnection from each other which we have endured for the past six months – and which sadly looks set to continue for some while – is a symptom of our greater disconnection from nature and is something which we humans have helped to bring upon ourselves.

It’s hard not to feel deeply despairing, depressed, angered and ashamed by all this – I find myself living with all of these emotions and more, when I allow myself to face these difficult truths. Avoidance and denial - too long our solution - are no longer an option. It is time for humanity to change the way we think about and act towards our fellow creatures.  Extinction Rebellion’s non-violent disruption on our streets and Attenborough’s hard-hitting presentation in our living rooms are part of an awakening, a growing resolve among ordinary people to find ways of making a difference. Our unlooked-for pause during lockdown has made so many of us reflect on what was wrong with the ‘old normal’, not least the damage we have been doing to our planet – and at the same time it has given many of us a chance to reconnect with nature in surprising and refreshing ways, rediscovering the joys of our gardens and local woods, learning the names of trees and recognising birdsong.

As people of faith, who understand the nature of sin and recognise our own share in this, but also believe in restoration and renewal, we are called to play a part in this awakening, to make the changes we are able to in our own lives, to join in challenging the powerful systems which drive so much of this destruction, and to encourage and collaborate with all fellow-travellers in hope. A few examples: for me one sign of hope began three years ago with the publication of a beautiful book, The Lost Words, naming and illustrating some once-common nature words like acorn and bluebell or which were in danger of being lost from children’s vocabulary. Like a sprouting mustard seed, the book rapidly became a huge success, and offshoots keep growing in the form of music, murals and much more. I think its success lies in the way it encourages us to reconnect with some of our fellow creatures by knowing their name, seeing their beauty and recognising their uniqueness. If you haven’t already, I’d urge you to buy a copy to give to any children in your life – and keep one for yourself too!

The work of the Species Recovery Trust is different example of reconnecting, using volunteers to help endangered species and aiming to “train a whole new generation of wildlife enthusiasts to ensure we never lose touch with the natural world around us”. Another hopeful sign is the growing movement to tackle food waste – in which our own Real Junk Food Kitchen plays a part: if we stop wasting so much food globally, we can feed more people without destructively intensive agriculture.

If you missed Extinction: The Facts, do watch it if you can. Expect to feel angry and sorrowful, but don’t give up hope. You might need to hear the words which young Dara McAnulty (whom I mentioned in my last reflection) wrote to a parent who asked on Twitter:

“My 9 year old watched and cried and has asked me what can he do. What can I tell him?”

“Tell him to love all living things. Tell him not to be afraid. Tell him to share his enthusiasm and hope with others. Learning how everything is connected will have a positive effect on decision making. Give him a hug from me.”

Reflection (Ruth Harley)

“Come, let us return to the Lord…”

How different those words sounded just a few weeks ago, when the worship planning group met to plan for our return to in-person gathered worship, which was to have been this weekend. Then, those words spoke of joyful return, of a promise fulfilled. But the world has changed quickly since then, and our plans have changed with it, and we are not gathering. I wonder how those words sound to you today?

“Come, let us return to the Lord…”

Perhaps it sounds like a promise of things to come – after all, our gathering for worship is not cancelled, but postponed. Or perhaps, as this fresh loss compounds our grief for all the losses of this time, it sounds like an empty promise, hollow words when we cannot return.

It is, I think, no coincidence that the book of Hosea, like many of the prophetic texts in the Bible, was written during or just after a time of upheaval, sadness, separation and loss, when the people of Israel were taken in exile to Babylon. There was perhaps something about that experience of devastation and separation which enabled people to face some of the harder, more uncomfortable truths about what it means to live in the world in relationship with God.

“Come, let us return to the Lord…”

This is not really about returning to worship, though it might have fitted that context well. Nor is it about returning home, returning to a beloved community, though it might have had those resonances for its original hearers as well as for us. It is about turning to God, and not just turning but re-turning, turning again, setting our face in the direction of God, living our lives oriented towards God, and accepting that to do so is not a once-and-for all decision, but a continual process of turning and returning.

The life of faith is not static, it requires us to be continually ready to move, to change, to turn and re-turn, as we try to keep ourselves firmly pointed towards God, in all the changing, challenging and confusing circumstances of life. Church traditions, at their worst, encourage us to stay still, to stay put, to resist change, because ‘we have always done it like that’. But at its best, the tradition of the church encourages us to root ourselves in a long line of faithful people who have turned and returned to God in every generation, adapting to all manner of circumstances, and trying to work out afresh what it means to remain faithful to God now, in this time and place and situation.

Our readings today contain some pretty devastating imagery. Imagery of violence and destruction, of turmoil, loss, devastation and extinction. This is, perhaps, not the sort of stuff we expect to hear very often in church. But it is important stuff to engage with, and to engage with well.

Some of this imagery has been used badly, to suggest a vengeful God who destroys or harms as punishment for human sin. That is not a God I recognise. Sometimes this sort of imagery has been used to justify human violence, the violence of the privileged towards the oppressed, and that is never right. We need to be very careful to resist any reading that could seem to condone abuse or violence.

So how do we read these texts? It helps, I think, to start by remembering that the relationship between God and human beings is not – in the ordinary sense – an interpersonal relationship. God is not a person, and our relationship with God is not the same as our relationship with other humans. Nor is God’s relationship with God’s own creation the same as our relationship with God’s creation, of which we are a part.

A careful reading of the text from Jeremiah may also help us here. ‘Why is the land ruined and laid waste like a wilderness?’ asks the prophet. A question we may well echo as we see the destructive impact of climate change on our world. And God replies ‘Because they have forsaken my law that I set before them and have not obeyed my voice or walked in accordance with it.’ It would be easy to read that as God punishing people for their disobedience by destroying the land. But I think it is better read, especially if we are looking for parallels with our present climate emergency, as God spelling out the inevitable consequences of humanity turning away from the way God wants us to live in relationship with creation.

It’s a bit like if you say to a child: “if you touch the cooker, you’ll get burned” – that’s not a threat of punishment, but a warning about consequences. So, in these sometimes disturbingly violent texts, God is not threatening us, but warning us about the consequence of our own actions and inactions, and the choices we make in how we relate to one another, to God, and to the creation of which we are a part.

“Come, let us return to the Lord…”

This is a call to turn back towards God, to notice those times when we too have ‘stubbornly followed our own hearts’, to commit again to walking in God’s ways and placing ourselves in right relationship with God, with our neighbours, and with creation.

This is not easy stuff. It never is, but especially now. It is not easy in terms of how we respond either to the climate crisis or to the Coronavirus pandemic. Sometimes it will mean making decisions which are costly or even painful. Often it will mean wrestling long and hard with what it looks like to love God and love our neighbour as ourselves, now, in these circumstances, in response to these crises. What that looks like will continue to change, and we will need to be prepared to change in response, to turn and turn again towards God who is unchanging in faithfulness and love.

There is a spiritual which emerged from the Shaker tradition which has the chorus “to turn, turn will be our delight, til turning, turning we come round right” and as they sang it, the Shakers would dance, turning and moving as they worshiped God. Dance is often used as a metaphor for the life of God in the Trinity, as one of continual movement in relationship. We too are caught up in this dance, in this turning and returning to God.

It is hard, sometimes, to learn new ways of dancing, new ways of living, new ways of expressing our love for God and neighbour. It is hard, and it can be heartbreaking, and it can be joyful, and inspiring, and devastating, and beautiful - sometimes all at the same time. But we do not do it alone. Even when we cannot meet, we are still part of the same dance, turning together towards the same God, seeking together to walk with Jesus, bound together in the life of the Holy Spirit.

So come, let us return to the Lord, together-but-apart, let us know, let us press on to know, the Eternal One whose appearing is as sure as the dawn. Amen.

Questions for reflection / discussion

As I read / listened to the readings and reflections for this week…

·         what did I notice, or what particularly stood out for me?

 


·         what did they make me wonder, or what questions am I pondering?

 


·         what have they helped me realise?

 


·         is there anything I want to do or change in the light of this week's topic?

 

A prayer for this week:

Too often we have treated the planet as a commodity,
as raw material to be used and consumed.
We have burnt the skies and sickened the waters.
We have treated our companion creatures
with cruelty and indifference.

So we ask for a turning of our hearts.
We offer you the harvest of the earth, sea and sky:
may it be the fruit of care and persistent love,
sustaining the richness of living things.

Too often we have treated one another as means to an end:
as things to be labelled, abused and enslaved.
We have not always raised our voices
when our sisters and brothers have been treated with contempt.

So we ask for a turning of our hearts.
We offer you the harvest of our lives:
May it be a gathering of peace and justice,
sharing life in solidarity and courage. Amen.

(from Steven Shakespeare, The Earth Cries Glory)

Activities / conversation-starters
with young (and not-so-young!) people

This week we’ve included resources for a ‘wild pilgrimage’, to mark the end of our Creation season. All the suggested activities, and the practical resources to do them, will be contained in ‘pilgrimage bags’ – delivered to your doorstep with the paper worship packs, or available from the Old Rectory driveway on Sunday 20th September, 10.30am - 4.30pm.



[1] See Megan Warner, ‘Resilience in a Time of COVID-19 – Three Biblical Models: Plague, Uncleanness and Indigestion’ (conference paper presented 17 June 2020), https://www.winchester.ac.uk/media/content-assets/documents/rke-documents/covid-and-theology-conference-papers/Warner,-Resilience-in-a-time-of-COVID-19.pdf

[2] From the Species Recovery Trust website:  https://www.speciesrecoverytrust.org.uk/about-us

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