Sermon for the 5th Sunday of Easter

Sunday 14th May 2006

Preached by Rev Paul Hewitt

I had a new experience last week…! Do you want to know about it?

To be three days at General Synod (or at least nearly three days, for me) is quite an experience for anyone. To preside over it all must be exhausting. To be there for Archbishop Eames’ announcement of his retirement was something else as well. During the lunch break after his address, a colleague of mine and myself bumped into Bishop Ken Good, of Derry and Raphoe, and, of course all the talk was of the Primate’s retirement. He said to us that it was very interesting looking at all you faces as the Archbishop said his retirement words, and I said to Bishop Ken, what was far more interesting was watching all of your faces! The Bishops all sit up on the podium behind the Primate, and they’ll be all wondering, I’m sure, who’s going to take over! Church politics at its best!

So, there was the Synod, the Church of Ireland’s governing body examining itself, its call, its mission, at home and abroad. And in all honesty, as a first-time observer, I have to say that one would get the impression that the Church of Ireland is in a fairly healthy state. As a former outsider, it would be very easy to get the impression that the Church is simply a self-perpetuating body. That it exists in blissful unawareness that nobody else out there actually gives a toss! So long as the Church doesn’t begin to delude itself into thinking that this is all of life as we know it!

You know the story of the oil refinery that is a wonderful paradigm of the Church, or at least of the way, in a sense the church shouldn’t be: A man was being shown around an oil refinery, and he was shown how various parts of the refinery carry out various functions of the refinery. At the end of the tour, the man asked the guide, ‘Where is the shipping department?’ And the guide, a bit perplexed by all of this said, ‘What do mean, ‘shipping department’?’ And the man said, ‘I mean what do you do with all the oil and all the masses of energy that this refinery produces?’ The guide replied, ‘Sir, perhaps you don’t understand. We don’t actually do anything. All the oil and the energy that this refinery produces is used up keeping the refinery going.’

Is the Church simply a self-perpetuating organisation that has no place outside its own remit, so to speak? I hope not, because at Synod we had an excellent presentation by Bishops’ Appeal. As you know, Bishops’ Appeal is the Church of Ireland’s own relief agency, if I can call it that. It decides where money collected can be spent, and the truth is that most of it goes to Christian Aid. Today is the beginning of Christian Aid Week and our Christian Aid lunch will be after the Service next Sunday, 21st May. I hope you can make a point of being there.

It’s hard to imagine that in such an educated, and relatively free world a child still dies every three seconds from poverty related causes. That was the truth behind the Make Poverty History campaign.

As I said in my Easter Vestry address, I know some of the horror stories that come back to me about people that our collectors go to; people, even, who are parishioners. And, really the point of me saying this, is to thank those of you for being collectors. And Hazel Johnston, our Christian Aid coordinator, I know has an unenviable task recruiting volunteers.

We may not know about the complexities of world economics. Even adopting a fair-trade policy in our parishes and our diocese raises other complex issues, as we were reminded at Synod. But the point of all of this is, that while we live in luxury, people elsewhere in the world cannot get enough food and medicine for themselves or their children to simply survive. Yet given that situation, people cannot even go to the bother of putting 10 pence in a Christian Aid envelope. As someone has said to me, wouldn’t it be easier to do that than go through a whole rigmarole of explaining to a collector that they don’t give money to blacks! Or of people, literally, hiding behind sofas when they collectors arrive.

To be a Christian Aid collector would not restore your faith in human nature very quickly. Isn’t that an incredibly sad thing to say? Just a little goes a long way. As one of those posters said earlier, £2.50 a week would help Abebech Mekonnen provide home and hope for her two grandchildren.

Although we know to those who have been given much, much will be required, Christian Aid is not asking for much. If you’re not prepared to give even a little then the story of The Vine and the Branches is very clear; the Father, as the gardener, cuts off every branch that bears no fruit. Whatever the complexities of world economics, that message couldn’t be clearer. As Christians, it is our duty to care and to love, especially those who have so little, by doing something! (You don’t even need to be told that).

An African Bishop once said to Archbishop Eames, “Over here you have God and everything. At home, we have just God!” That’s how the churches survive, and they put our spirituality to shame. We can learn a lot from them, and we can give a great deal in return, if only we would do something.