Week 21: A way in the wilderness: coming home?

Isaiah 35:1-10

35 The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad,
    the desert shall rejoice and blossom;
like the crocus ² it shall blossom abundantly,
    and rejoice with joy and singing.
The glory of Lebanon shall be given to it,
    the majesty of Carmel and Sharon.
They shall see the glory of the Lord,
    the majesty of our God.

³ Strengthen the weak hands,
    and make firm the feeble knees.
⁴ Say to those who are of a fearful heart,
    “Be strong, do not fear!
Here is your God.
    He will come with vengeance,
with terrible recompense.
    He will come and save you.”

⁵ Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
    and the ears of the deaf unstopped;
⁶ then the lame shall leap like a deer,
    and the tongue of the speechless sing for joy.
For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,
    and streams in the desert;
⁷ the burning sand shall become a pool,
    and the thirsty ground springs of water;
the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp,
    the grass shall become reeds and rushes.

⁸ A highway shall be there,
    and it shall be called the Holy Way;
the unclean shall not travel on it,
    but it shall be for God’s people;
    no traveller, not even fools, shall go astray.
⁹ No lion shall be there,
    nor shall any ravenous beast come up on it;
they shall not be found there,
    but the redeemed shall walk there.
¹⁰ And the ransomed of the Lord shall return,
    and come to Zion with singing;
everlasting joy shall be upon their heads;
    they shall obtain joy and gladness,
    and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

A ‘cutting’ of tree wisdom (Genny Tunbridge)

“When we plant trees, we plant the seeds of peace and hope”

Wangari Maathai (1940-2011) was born in Kenya, and after periods abroad studying biology, returned there in 1969. She noticed on her return that the environment had changed for the worse, and learned from women in rural areas that their streams were drying up, their food supply was less secure, and they had to walk further and further to get firewood for fuel and fencing. Wangari recognised that this was due to deforestation. In 1977 she began encouraging women to group together to grow seedlings and plant trees: this would help to bind the soil, store rainwater and provide food and firewood, and the women received a small payment for their work.

From these small beginnings grew the Green Belt Movement, which spread from Kenya to other African countries, working at grassroots level to plant - so far - over 52 million trees. Maathai saw early what many are only just beginning to grasp: how issues of environmental conservation could not be separated from those of human rights. Her holistic vision shaped a movement where tree planting contributed not only ecological sustainability but to democracy, women’s rights and international solidarity. Drawing inspiration both from her Kikuyu culture and her Catholic upbringing (including reading the prophets) she remained steadfast in the face of opposition, despite at times being beaten and imprisoned as she battled powerful economic forces and tyrannical rulers. Her vision and work were recognised when she received the Nobel Peace Prize in 2004.[1]

Introduction to the theme (Al Barrett)

We’re now in the last of four weeks of this ‘Kingdom season’, where we’ve been both remembering backwards but also ‘remembering forwards’, excavating God’s past promises to her people (in the words of the Hebrew prophets) as promises with meaning for our future too.

Last week, with Jeremiah and the Jewish exiles in Babylon, we were caught in the dilemma of exile: do they sit tight waiting to go back home to Jerusalem, or do they make their home in Babylon and put down their roots there, however temporarily? God’s message, through Jeremiah, was that the people should do the latter: they should ‘seek the welfare [shalom] of the city’ where they found themselves, with the promise that they would find their own shalom (peace, justice, wellbeing) in that place.

This week, the focus shifts to the home-coming of God’s people, liberated by God from exile: ‘the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion [Jerusalem] with singing’. The promise is one of ‘everlasting joy … and gladness’, of ‘sorrow and sighing … flee[ing] away’. This is indeed a home-coming to be looked forward to, longed for.

But there is more. Through Jeremiah, God doesn’t just promise his people that home, when they get there, will be the place of joy and life. The journey home will be joyful too. There will be a ‘holy highway’ for that journey, through what had previously been arid, dangerous desert. The ‘joy and singing’ will not just be from the human travellers on the road home, but from the non-human life (crocuses, streams, reeds and rushes) that will spring up all around them as they walk.

And where is God in it all? Is God waiting patiently, back home, ready to throw her arms around the necks of her long lost children? Maybe. But God is also on the road with them, journeying home with them, listening to them telling again their stories of exile, and nodding along: ‘yes, I was with you there too’.

Reflection (Sally Nash)

‘The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go
as we are and not be questioned.’ – Maya Angelou

Our reading today was written to people in exile, they were not at home but these ten verses give them a hope of a joy filled homecoming.  Do you have any joy filled homecoming memories?  Perhaps as a child, or your first home of your own, or returning to the place you grew up.  Even at my age I still talk about going home when I go back to Reading.  How the people of Israel must have longed for, ached for a home that was safe, accepting and where they could again feel that they belonged. 

Brené Brown has written a book called Braving the Wilderness. In it she talks about true belonging.  She writes:

‘True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness.  True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are, it requires you to be who you are.’

Our reading from Isaiah talks about us returning home together, rejoicing, hopeful.  In some ways it is an apt metaphor for the time we are in now.  We look to the day when we can return to worshipping together, fully able to rejoice and engage with each other.  But we need to be mindful too of the journey we have been on in this period of exile through lockdown.  I am mindful as I write of the significant learning that we have been engaging with over Black History Month and lament that some of our brothers and sisters have not always experienced that sense of true belonging in the body of Christ and I hope that as we grow and learn, repent and renew that each of them feel more able to be who they are, not feeling that they need to adapt or change to belong.  I hope that they feel at home, and that they can come as they are, that we all can come as we are.  There are many of us who perhaps find it hard to be authentically us at times because we are not sure what reception that will get.  The healing that comes in the middle of today’s passage is much needed. 

More generally, this passage, as the commentators say, is a message of strength and courage to those who may be fearful in heart (v4).  That is likely to be most of us at some time over different issues.  It is very human to fear but we have a God who encourages us to fear not (v4) and sometimes we need to dwell in the message of God and see the end game, see how it is all going to turn out.  One commentator suggested that the phrase fearful heart is better translated from the Hebrew as ‘ones whose hearts are racing’ which is a very embodied image and is the reality for all of us.  My heart was racing when I heard that a vaccine may be coming soon.  My heart races when I am going to see someone precious again…  We live through this pandemic in our bodies, our reactions may be fight or flight or freeze. We may have experienced the virus, mildly or have long COVID.  Our bodies are always impacted by what is happening around us. But the passage talks about our hears racing in hope… 

Digging again into the commentaries I am encouraged to find that the word vengeance which is a word I struggle with can be understood as Hendrik Peels argues, as closer to restorative justice, inherent in the Hebrew word nagam is the idea of retribution from a legitimate authority that brings liberation to the oppressed, freedom from need and restoration of justice.  That is an encouraging opening to this passage for people in exile.  Thus “Say to the people, God is here. Restorative justice is on its way. Hope now in God's dealing. Expect God's response”.

Beautiful images from nature abound in this passage.  Some will remember that last year we grew crocuses in church and many of us will see them in gardens, early signs that spring is coming, bright colour on often grey days.  The image of God turning a wilderness or desert into a garden is a beautiful one and certainly one of the biggest blessings of lockdown for us is our garden becoming a lovely place to look at and sit out in rather than the well overgrown wilderness it was.  That was a story of despair to hope just as our passage today is.

If you look at the whole passage you will see that it starts and ends with creation and God is in the middle with humanity – thus creation, humanity, God, humanity, creation. God saves God’s people, and the saving involves transformation of society, it isn’t a focus on individual transformation alone. 

As we journey together, let’s try to recall some of the stories of hope we have heard about recently. Let’s continue to thank God for the good things we are hearing about and experiencing and walk together, even though we are physically apart, as we look to a joy filled homecoming one day.  Amen

Reflection (David Walton)

Isaiah gives us a vision of transformation in a journey from captivity to freedom on a joyous journey home where even the desert is transformed as flowers appear like new life springing from the ground, in celebration, in hope as God works his purpose out. 

Some 20 years ago as part of a summer school in the Holy Land we spent a day in the Negev desert. We started our exodus experience at 4 am, arriving at the starting point for our trek just as the sun was braking over the horizon.  We needed to walk before the heat of the day became too much.  The desert seemed dead, lacking life, a harsh in hospitable place.  Yet when we looked closely, we found life all around us, giving a sense of hope on our journey.  Yet we walked in near silence, talking quietly if at all. Then arrival at an oasis, and the sudden transformation of the landscape, the lush green leaves of plants and trees, beautiful flowers, pools of water.  Tired and worn out we were suddenly filled with joy, renewed energy, and the urge to rejoice.  We were all talking, chatting, laughing, some singing. A joyous transformation.

In 1964 the sociologist Ruth Glass coined the term ‘gentrification’ to describe the rapid changes in urban areas where working-class residents became displaced by the growing numbers of middle-class who transformed what had been run down areas into highly desirable residential areas. In the process, Glass notes, “the whole social character of the district is changed.” It is most documented in urban settings, but the influx of wealthy middleclass retirees to some rural communities has completely transformed those communities in similar fashion. There is a positive to this transformation in the increase in financial capital within those areas, but there is also a negative in terms of decreased social capital that is difficult to regain.

While not wanting to labour the mixed illustration of gentrification, nonetheless there are times when an area is so ravaged that nothing, but a complete transformation will bring benefit back to the wider community. Such is the case with the High Line in Manhattan’s West Side—a piece of elevated rail track that was earmarked for demolition but that was saved by local residents who have transformed the mile long track to create a life-enhancing park space within the city. In essence, the doxology from Isaiah is also a celebration of transformation.

These verses celebrate and witness to a God who can transform even the most desperate situations in which people know abandonment, threat, and fearfulness. Much of the preceding chapters in the Isaiah collection are taken up with accounting for the predicament Israel found herself in. Here, with a nod back to 29:17-18 we find the affirmation that God can bring restoration. From the worst situations, God can bring nurture, new life, fresh vision, and hope. Even the life-threatening wilderness will become a place where blossoms abound. These verses, and particular 5-7, do not just talk about the promise of new life and new starts, however, they speak in terms of restored completeness: this is a hymn to wholeness. And, as such, this is wonderful, good `news for the broken and the hurt. It is, thus, no wonder that the gospel writers saw allusions to the incarnation of Good News whom they wrote about in this and other passages from the prophetic writing. Humanity will find its completeness and wholeness only through the glorious presence and action of God. Verse 8-10 describe a pathway of holiness, a righteous road (those purity laws were never far away), perhaps even a ‘high line’, and we might ponder what it means for us in 2020 to stand on this path during pandemic and looking forward to the preparation time of Advent.

There is much in this time of pandemic that leaves us fearful, feeling lost and abandoned in the barren wilderness, particularly those who have become isolated from family and friends or any kind of social interaction. But for too many being fearful, feeling lost and abandoned has been the way of life long before we heard of Covid-19.   As we travel in hot dry desert times of life can we also ponder areas of our lives are in need transformation and wholeness? In our communities, where do we see glimmers of new life and restoration, and where should our efforts as followers on the pathway of holiness be expended to bring wholeness?

What can we do, alongside creation’s witness as described in Isaiah, to witness to the glory of God?

There is much that the church and others are doing in this community to bring transformation, not by gentrification and displacement, but by community building and supporting one another, and beginning to see life in the desert, an oasis of joy, a high line of transformation.  In all this, we journey on, a growing crowd learning afresh that God can bring nurture, new life, fresh vision, and hope.  He can do all this, because he journeys with us.

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:

‘With joy you shall you draw waters out of the wells of salvation’
(Isaiah 12:3)

And then all that has divided us will merge
And then compassion will be wedded to power
And then softness will come to a world that is harsh and unkind

And then both men and women will be gentle
And then both women and men will be strong
And then no person will be subject to another's will

And then all will be rich and free and varied
And then the greed of some will give way to the needs of many

And then all will share equally in the Earth's abundance

And then all will care for the sick and the weak and the old

And then all will nourish the young
And then all will cherish life's creatures

And then everywhere will be called Eden once again

Judy Chicago, 1979

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

• Today’s reading talks about flowers blossoming in the wilderness. At this time of year, the landscape can seem to be looking a bit bleak, as plants die back for the winter. But there are still signs of life to be found! Go for a walk or into your garden (or if you can’t go out, look out of a window). What signs of life and hope can you find? Pause and thank God for them.
• In today’s reading we hear about God making a straight path in the desert. Make your own path out of footprints, either drawing round your feet on paper, or outdoors with chalk on a path or pavement. As you draw, think about your journey through life. Have there been times when you have wondered where God was? Have there been times when you have been particularly aware of God’s presence with you?
• In our reading today we hear about lots of things being changed and transformed. What is something you think needs to change? Draw the situation as it is now on one side of a piece of paper. Then turn over and draw the situation as it should be on the other side. As you draw, ask God to transform that situation. You might also want to ask God to show you any ways that you could be involved in changing things. 

 

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[1] You can read more about Wangari Maathai, including some of her speeches and lectures, on the Green Belt Movement website http://www.greenbeltmovement.org/ ; or listen to an interview with her on this podcast: https://onbeing.org/programs/wangari-maathai-marching-with-trees/

 

Week 20: Making our home in exile

Jeremiah 29:1-14

29 These are the words of the letter that the prophet Jeremiah sent from Jerusalem to the remaining elders among the exiles, and to the priests, the prophets, and all the people, whom Nebuchadnezzar had taken into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon. ² This was after King Jeconiah, and the queen mother, the court officials, the leaders of Judah and Jerusalem, the artisans, and the smiths had departed from Jerusalem. ³ The letter was sent by the hand of Elasah son of Shaphan and Gemariah son of Hilkiah, whom King Zedekiah of Judah sent to Babylon to King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. It said: ⁴ Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: ⁵ Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. ⁶ Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. ⁷ But seek the welfare [shalom] of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare [shalom] you will find your welfare [shalom]. ⁸ For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Do not let the prophets and the diviners who are among you deceive you, and do not listen to the dreams that they dream, ⁹ for it is a lie that they are prophesying to you in my name; I did not send them, says the Lord.

¹⁰ For thus says the Lord: Only when Babylon’s seventy years are completed will I visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. ¹¹ For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. ¹² Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. ¹³ When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, ¹⁴ I will let you find me, says the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.

A ‘cutting’ of tree wisdom (Genny Tunbridge)

When I was five my family moved from England to Holland; I remember complaining that I would not see the apple tree we had planted in our garden grow big enough to climb in! Frequent house moves followed during both childhood and adult life – knowing you won’t live somewhere long makes it tempting to not bother much with gardening, especially with planting trees, since you won’t be around to benefit from them in years to come. But others will benefit even if we do not.

Planting trees is a present act that shows commitment to the future. The slow growth and long life of tree mean that most varieties will likely long outlive the humans who plant them. Their very many benefits – food and shelter, carbon capture and oxygen supply, and uplift of the spirit – will benefit future generations more than our own, and the whole eco-system, not just the human race.   According to some biblical writers, our brief life on earth is like an exile, waiting to return home to God. But holding this view does not mean (just as it didn’t mean for Jews in exile in Babylon) that we should not care for the wellbeing of the place where we find ourselves here and now – however temporary our stay may be. Planting trees contributes to the earth’s shalom.

One way to do this is through the Woodland Trust[1]: you can buy native trees to plant yourself, or support their work by dedicating a tree as a memorial, or a celebration of a birth or anniversary.

Introduction to the theme (Al Barrett)

One of the themes we’ve returned to repeatedly in our ‘Trees of Life’ journey so far has been exile. The kingdom of Judah, centred on Jerusalem, was invaded by the powerful Babylonian empire (around 590 BCE), Jerusalem was ransacked, and many of the Jews (especially their leaders and ‘professional’ classes) were taken by their captors back to Babylon. While they were clearly the ‘losers’ of this particular inter-national conflict, the evidence suggests that the Jewish people’s life in Babylon wasn’t awful. Yes, they had all the challenges of being foreigners in a strange land, but this wasn’t Egypt: they weren’t slaves.

With the hindsight perspective of history, this period of exile was to last somewhere between 50 and 70 years – those who were taken from Jerusalem as adults would see out their lifetimes in Babylon. But the prophetic books that took shape in exile (e.g. Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, some parts of Isaiah) didn’t have the benefit of hindsight. For all they knew, the Jewish households and communities who’d been taken to Babylon could be there for generations.

So the exiles were caught in a dilemma. Do they, on the one hand, ‘sit tight’, wait and pray for a return home – keeping themselves to themselves as much as possible, trying to preserve a little ‘outpost’ of Jerusalem, hanging on to what they remember of their past lives, driven by a homesick, nostalgic longing to go ‘back to the way things were’? Or do they, on the other hand, make the decision to call this place ‘home’, settle down, put down roots, get involved with the society around them – and try to work out new ways of living as faithful children of their God YHWH?

The passage from Jeremiah includes elements of both. There is the promise of a home-coming, when God will ‘gather’ the scattered and bring ‘restoration’. But the Jewish exiles are not to sit tight and wait for that moment. They are to call this place ‘home’ for the time being, and ‘seek the welfare [shalom]’ of the city where they are – because in that seeking they will discover their own welfare [shalom] (Jer. 29:7). Has God abandoned them? Is God waiting for them ‘back home’ in the ruins of Jerusalem? Is God in their midst, in the strange land of exile? Or might the answer be Yes to more than one of these questions?

Reflection (Paul Wright)

I begin by reflecting on the Biblical portrayal of Babylon. The whole Bible presents us a city devoted to materialism and sinful pleasure. A place that rejects the One True God. The prophets mention Babylon as both a warning of punishment and an example of what displeases God. The New Testament gives it as a symbol of humanities sinfulness and God's judgment. In 1 Peter 5:13, the apostle cites Babylon to remind Christians in Rome to be as faithful as Daniel was. Finally, in the book of Revelation, Babylon again stands for Rome, the capital of the Roman Empire, the enemy of Christianity. Let’s just say the Bible doesn’t paint a good picture of this place.

In our reading today, I imagine a place where you feel captive and a place you are in exile is going to cloud your judgement. It’s a strange place, a foreign land, a place described by your closest family, friends and leaders as sinful. Probably most felt it most brutally as a place where they lost their power, entitlements, maybe even their dignity. So I give them the benefit of the doubt. This Biblical understanding and in today’s passage the Jewish perspective is of an ‘other’ place. Not our place and not our real home. For me this begs the question who gets to judge? Who gets to describe it? And what impact does this labelling of ‘other’ places have?

One thing I have learned from the past few weeks exploring Black History is that maybe it’s not always wise to just accept how the one’s telling the story describe and treat the ‘other’ places and ‘other’ people! It is interesting how the Rastafarian religion understands the Biblical experience of Babylon and how they see this in the imperialistic evil of the British empire, the Transatlantic Slave Trade, and the exploitation and oppression that still exists today. A place wrapped up in the history of a white western society rooted in Christianity and the power influenced by the teachings of the Institutional Church. Maybe we need to start thinking of the Church as Babylon and ourselves as Babylonians, but that’s for another day!

There are of course other historical perspectives of Babylon, a place laced with an intricate system of canals leading off the Euphrates River, used for irrigation and commerce. Breathtaking buildings adorned with enamelled brick, neatly paved streets made Babylon the most impressive city of its time. Described as a centre of learning, culture, science and knowledge. The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, a colossal maze of terraced trees, shrubs, flowers and manmade waterfalls, are one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.  So at least two sides to every story!

I come to today’s passage. For me this is one of the most influential stories in the Bible. It influences how I understand God and understand living out my faith. We all will have a quote or a story that resonates, and today we reflect on some of mine. It leads me to my story, and the story of a few others, who have moved to Firs and Bromford and made it our home.

Now I am very concerned that there is any hint in my story that I am describing Firs & Bromford as the Bible portrays Babylon! But what I will say is Firs & Bromford for me was an ‘other place’. It wasn’t my home and it is different to where I grew up in Coleshill & Castle Bromwich. I had passed Chipperfield Road on many occasions on the 90 and 94 bus but had never been down there. I had heard of this place ‘The Bromford’ and made my own judgements/assumptions based on what people said. When I spent time living in and hanging out in Smiths Wood, Chelmsley Wood, Shard End, Kingshurst and Castle Vale (similar 60’s built estates) I still heard about this place! The other place, the place people who didn’t live there looked down upon.

When I started to do youth work in Firs & Bromford I heard it described by some professionals as the problem estate! Workshy, anti-social, apathetic, hard to reach, deprived, and a sink estate. I have also heard stories and heard myself how Firs & Bromford has been described by Church members. Statements like ‘watch out for your car down there’, ‘it’s not safe to walk there’, ‘why would you want to move there?’, ‘all that stuff in the Bromford is sucking the life out of the Church’ and being described as ‘you people down there in Bromford’. The more I call Bromford my home, the more that hurts! I say this not to offend anyone or call anyone out, I am just drawing attention to the deep-rooted sense of ‘other’ that exists in us all and the deep-rooted power and impact it has.

Jeremiah clearly outlines that God is instructing us to ‘seek the welfare [shalom] of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf, for in its welfare [shalom] you will find your welfare [shalom]’. Now that is one heck of a prophetic statement to disrupt the ‘status quo’ of how life was being understood! Imagine the people hearing that statement. This place that we have been told is sinful and a wicked ungodly place, the place we are in exile with no power, status or influence. You are saying seek God’s Shalom here? God is here? Our welfare is to be found here? Our welfare (or let’s say Salvation) is intertwined with the people here!? And more than that it can be found in those people who live here, they will reveal God to us!?’ I bet they didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or maybe keep listening to the ‘false’ prophets telling them otherwise.

I can imagine them saying, ‘No, no, no, you can’t be right. We must be being saved some other way! Tell us we will be brought back to our home of power, status and safety. We will ride it out by sticking with our own, only engage if people are willing to believe what we believe, look like us, and eventually we will return to you God. Maybe if we do this we will rescue a few of those people and bring them back with us.’ I think the passage about building houses, growing gardens, increasing in numbers could even be misunderstood as this as well, and the passages about eventually coming ‘home’ might be understood as ‘it’s gonna be tough for a bit, but at the end of the day I will rescue you’. But this would be ignoring the clear belief that God’s Shalom is in Babylon, God is here, and I am asking you to seek it.

This has been my experience of moving to Firs and Bromford. I, alongside other Christians, came with a faith filled with hope & love. I didn’t come with a faith that would bring light to a dark place, I came seeking the Shalom of the city, seeking the light that already exists, and a faith that believed God has a plan for this place and a future filled with hope.  I have found it and I know others have found it too. The relationships that have grown, the friendships, the things we do ‘together’ like Junk Food Kitchen, FAB Church, The Hub, Street Connecting, and so much more. This also includes life beyond the Firs & Bromford like the Old Rectory and the exciting plans for the Pantry. This is people who have chosen to move here, those that have lived here for years (if not all their life) and those who join in. This includes people of faith (in a range of religions) and of no faith (well not faith in a particular religion). The ups and downs of community life we experience is ‘of God’, teaching me and others about God and revealing to us God’s Shalom.

During my time here it is interesting when some people say to me they see and feel something different in us, by that they mean the ‘Christians’! They describe compassion, love, forgiveness, hope and generosity. I say to them that is God’s presence in us, and I see that in you as well, and all around this community.

Finally, the ‘home coming’. Well Bromford is now my home, Hodge Hill Parish is my home. I am not seeking a newly built Jerusalem to move back to because I don’t believe the home coming as a physical geographical thing. The home coming is seeking and experiencing ‘The Kingdom of God’ in the now, and the Kingdom to come (the New Jerusalem).

I finish today bowing my head in prayer and lifting my heart to the Lord, joining with friends and neighbours who also seek the Shalom of the City, knowing the answer has already been laid out before us all:

“11 For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the LORD, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. 12 Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. 13 When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, 14 I will let you find me, says the LORD, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, says the LORD, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.”

Reflection (Penny Hall)

Many of us will have moved house at some point in our lives; often for positive reasons such as a new job, to be closer to family or for a sunnier climate. Others will have moved for economic reasons, downsizing or the loss of a job. Often, moving house is exciting, a challenge, a happy new beginning. Not so many of us will have been pushed to move because of poverty, war or persecution for our beliefs. Even fewer of us will have been forced into exile by a dominant power, as happened to the people of Jerusalem in Jeremiah’s time. Even if we chose to leave our previous home, there may be a sadness, leaving family, a familiar culture, especially leaving somewhere you have lived for a large part of your life.

Through Jeremiah, God tells the exiles to build houses and live in them, to plant gardens and eat the food, to marry and have children and to seek the welfare of the city and pray for the city. “In its welfare you will find your welfare”. Jeremiah encourages the exiles not only to endure their exile but to discover a new life in faith and hope, to make this new city their home.

How could the people of Jerusalem pray for and settle down in a city which represented those who had destroyed their home and slaughtered their loved ones? This question reminds me of a story I heard many years ago, a story about attitudes:

A wise elderly man sat under a tree outside his village. A traveller came up to him and asked what kind of people he would meet in the village. The wise man asked him first to tell him what kind of people he had met on his travels so far. The traveller replied  “I have met the most awful people! People who are selfish and unkind to strangers. People who don’t care for anyone.” The wise man said “I am sorry to tell you, but if you go into my village, I’m afraid that’s exactly the kind of people you will meet.” The traveller carried on along the road without going into the village.

A while later, another traveller came upon the wise man and asked the same question. Again, the wise man asked him what kind of people he had met in his travels. The traveller replied “I have met the most amazing people! People who are kind and generous to strangers, people who care for one another like family.”  The wise man said “I am happy to tell you that if you go into my village, I am certain that is exactly the kind of people you will meet”. “Come then” said the traveller “and introduce me to them”.

Perhaps this story and God’s words through Jeremiah are both telling us to take some personal responsibility for finding peace in our community. Was the exile an opportunity to discover the love of God? Was it a chance to think through what was important in their lives? Can we discover the word of God in our community?

So, how can we find Shalom in our neighbourhoods? I’m sure we could all find bad things in any neighbourhood, but I’d like to share with you some of the good things happening on the Bromford. I have lived for just one year on the Bromford estate, part of Hodge Hill parish. I wasn’t exiled here! On the contrary, I chose to come here because I already knew quite a few people and I had been involved in lots of community events. I knew I would find Shalom here.

Over the last few years there has been a tradition of pop-up places of welcome (PUPOWs) on grassy street corners. A gazebo, tables and chairs would be set up with drinks games and activities for children and people would be invited to bring a contribution to the picnic, but more importantly to bring themselves. People brought platters of samosas, sandwiches, cakes, pans of chicken and rice. A banquet would arise from nowhere! People helped elderly neighbours to walk across, or took food to them if they couldn’t. Neighbours chatted to each other, found out each other’s names and got to know each other. Relationships were built. It just needed an opportunity.

Since the arrival of Covid (putting us all into a bit of an exile!), neighbours in my road had a physically distanced street party to celebrate the anniversary of VE Day. One neighbour provided music, another provided cakes and we sat on our drives and enjoyed being neighbours. People passing brought out food and drinks and joined in.

This week, Sahra will be telling her amazing story of how she and her neighbours transformed their dull, overgrown, unused communal   garden into a haven of joy. Out of the shared commitment to improving their environment came new friendships; another glimpse of God’s kingdom.

In our lives, we will have occasions where we long for the past and hope for the future. But we can have Shalom here and now. We can find those glimpses of God’s kingdom and be part of it, and even to help to build it.

Reflection (Lizzie Gawen)

For a long time now, I have wanted to settle down. To find a sense of permanence and peace in my life. A community and a place to call home. So, I guess I identify a little bit with the exiles. They didn’t know if Babylon was a place to call home or if it was a temporary situation. They didn’t know if they should be vulnerable to envision a future in a place they wouldn’t be for too long.

Yet, God calls the exiles to seek the welfare of the city. In my life, amid my many house-moves and time spent in various Christian communities, God has opened up my heart to seek the welfare of the city through gardening. For me, gardens are not just lawns and plants. They are places for community, flourishing, growing (tomatoes and people). I love this Greek proverb: ‘a society grows great when wise men plant trees whose shade they will never sit in’. Gardens are a long-term investment that take time and patience. The seasons can’t be hurried. A tree grows at its own pace. Gardening helps me stay grounded in a changing world and feel connected to God, in a way that nothing else does.

In his autobiography A Long Walk to Freedom, Nelson Mandela talks about the impact of gardening on his life “A garden was one of the few things in prison that one could control. To plant a seed, watch it grow, to tend it and then harvest it, offered a simple but enduring satisfaction. The sense of being the custodian of this small patch of earth offered a taste of freedom’. Lockdown has impacted all of us and my escape has been to garden. I’ve reclaimed the raised beds outside Church House with the help of neighbours and made new raised beds which are filled with flowers and seedlings. Neighbours can now pick herbs and fruit as they walk by.

Yet, I was still searching for something more. A green oasis in the city. Not being able to go on retreat or on a holiday has really impacted my mental health. When I was told that there were plots available at Black Pit Lane allotments, I visited that weekend and was handed a key. In this new season of uncertainty, my allotment is my retreat in the city. Something to invest in for the good of others and for myself.

In a time where a lot of us have given up planning anything, I’ve realised the one thing I can plan is my allotment. I can sow some seeds and watch them grow. It’s my place to be with God and see their goodness in creation. If you need a retreat and/or a project right now, why not try an allotment? Or create a small patch to garden? You may find a small piece of satisfaction and a little bit of God too.

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: ‘For an exile’, by John O’Donohue

When you dream, it is always home.
You are there among your own,
The rhythm of their voices rising like song
Your blood would sing through any dark.

Then you awake to find yourself listening
To the sounds of traffic in another land.
For a moment, your whole body recoils
At the strange emptiness of where you are.

This country is cold to your voice.
It is still a place without echoes.
Nothing of yours has happened here.

No one knows you,
The language slows you,
The thick accent smothers your presence.

You sound foreign to yourself;
Their eyes reflect how strange you seem
When seen across a cold distance
That has no bridge to carry
The charisma in which your friends
Delight at home.

Though your work here is hard,
It brings relief, helps your mind
In returning to the small
Bounties of your absence.

Evening is without protection;
Your room waits,
Ready to take you
Back like some convict
Who is afraid
Of the life outside.

The things you brought from home
Look back at you; out of place here
They take on lonely power.

You cringe at the thought
That someone from home
Might see you now here,
In this unsheltered room.

Now is the time to hold faithful
To your dream, to understand
That this is an interim time
Full of awkward disconnection.

Gradually, you will come to find
Your way to friends who will open
Doors into a new belonging.

Your heart will brighten
With new discovery,
Your presence will unclench
And find ease,
Letting your substance
And promise be seen.

Slowly, a new world will open for you.
The eyes of your heart, refined
By this desert time, will be free
To see and celebrate the new life
For which you sacrificed so much.

(from John O’ Donohue, Benedictus: A Book of Blessings)

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

·         In today’s reading, the people of Israel are coming to terms with being in a situation they didn’t want – they are working out how to live in a strange land. Perhaps there are some similarities with our situation now? Think back over the period of the pandemic. Make a list of things that have changed and a list of things that have stayed the same.

·         Look at your lists of things that have changed and things that have stayed the same. Where have you noticed God in these things? What are the things you want to thank God for? What are the things you want to ask God for help with? Are there things you feel angry or sad about? You can tell God how you are feeling.

·         “Seek the welfare (shalom) of the city… for in its welfare you will find your welfare.” Can you think of something you could do for the welfare of your city? It could be something local, like helping a neighbour or picking up litter. It could be something for the city as a whole, like writing to your local councillor about an issue you care about (eg. climate change or childhood poverty).

·         “I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” It can be hard to imagine the future at the moment, but it is important to remember that things won’t always stay the same. What gives you hope? Create something – write a word, draw a picture, find an object – which reminds you to hope, and put it somewhere you will see it often.

 

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[1] https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/