Wednesday, 10 February 2016

Shades of grey

This is the text of a sermon preached at Sidney Sussex College Cambridge. The theme of the term is 'Epiphanies in Broken Things', which takes seriously the shift from Christmastide to Lent.  I took as my title 'Shades of Grey: glimmers of light in darkness'.  The texts were about Moses and his encounter with God at the burning bush (Exodus 3:1-7) and Jesus's paradoxical words about glory in John (John 12:7-36a).


 50 Questionable Shades of Grey | USDemocrazy





And Moses said, 'Let me turn aside and see this great sight; why doesn't the bush burn?'

Tonight we begin by entering into a familiar story. Its retelling breaks out beyond the text of the Hebrew Scriptures and  shapes our cultural imagination.

In The Prince of Egypt, Dreamworks animated it using the tagline: 'the power is real; the story is for ever; the time is now'.

In January Song, Billy Bragg's lyrics lament that he's 'tired of being wired'; he's journey's hard; he's 'standing on the sidewalk, talking to a burning bush'; meanwhile the politicians are selling freedom.

In Steinbeck's novel Grapes of Wrath, Jim Casy describes himself as a 'Burning Busher' -  convincing them others to work together towards a common goal.

The burning bush: a moment full of mystery, human curiosity and divine holiness.

The Jewish poet Yakov Azriel retells the story of Exodus by revisiting the words and finding meaning in the gaps between them:

In the shadow of a burning bush, and in
Its light, we gaze beyond the desert dune...

He paints pictures of not only what the mind sees, but what our hearts and souls intuit; he takes universal themes - the atoning for sin and God's sacred names; he plays with light and shadow and shades of grey. He goes on:

In the bush's shadow, and its light a thin
Unbroken thread of grace is seen...


The Moses we encounter tonight is a shepherd fugitive.  His story is complex. A Hebrew by birth, given up for his own safety and raised in Pharaoh's palace; living in privilege yet aware of the injustice of the regime. His intolerance for abuse and exploitation leads to an act of violence. He's a man fearing for his own life and feared by his own people. 

If this story is already fifty shades darker, then the burning bush is the breaking in of shades of freedom.  God does not coerce Moses; rather he ignites his curiosity.  This isn't a dazzling display of power and glory.  Rather in the shadow and light of an intriguing phenomenon, there's a thin line of grace which enables us to gaze beyond the desert dunes.

Creation is infused with the intensity of God's presence. This is holy ground. In the darkness of exile there are glimmers of light. Moses is called to embody that light of justice; to be one who calls for freedom in the face of systemic oppression. His 'Here I am' is met my the divine 'I am.

God acts through one who burns with a passion for justice; whose endurance thus far is a thread of grace. Shades of grey carries the light of promise. Holy ground is a place of transformation. The tale of wretched slaves and fugitives becomes a story of blessing, of lives marked by hope. 

We too are called to gaze beyond the desert dune. As the scholar Walter Brueggeman puts it: 'the end reach of this text will not come until the last man and woman enacts courage and possibility. A voice from the bush is a flaming warrant for truth to power.'


 Desert Sand Dune

Such a warrant is the essence of the good news of the Gospel. Jesus reaches out the weakest and marginalised; he disrupts the seductive power of selfishness and challenges the false assurance of possessions. He brings light into the darkness when we are wounded and if we retaliate; he brings love when we are criticised and when we judge.

He sees our goodness, the expression of that most excellent gift of charity: we are bonded to each other through our bodies - they express our love and compassion, friendship and support. Bodies are conduits of tenderness, intimacy, care, passion and creativity.

In Jesus, we see the power and cost of God's love for us. His soul is troubled. He reaches a point of anguish - the prospect of his death. He cries out to his Father, and hears words of paradoxical assurance. The moment of dereliction will be the moment of glory.  All that he does reveals who God is. In life and death and risen life sin, separation, desolation are overcome. God's 'I am' plumbs the depths of humanity and raises us up. Love has the final word.

The dehumanising value judgments of this world; the dishonesty that crushes us; the cruelty that breaks our hearts: on the cross the consequences of all that are laid bare.   In its place we see a love that is so generous and  compelling that all are drawn to it.   That is our hope, our ultimate reality. 

We are to walk in the light of that love. The gift and potential of our humanity refracts God's radiant light in the tiniest of gestures and most fleeting exchange. It glimmers in the things that lift us up when we are bowed down.

Communities where people live, work, worship and socialise together, can be extraordinary places of intellectual and spiritual formation; places where we learn habits of kindness, generosity forgiveness and trust. It is a place of security and stability - where we can give and receive love and esteem.

It can be tough and risky.

We live in a world where  our 'success' is quantified in metrics of social influence, research output, degree classifications and career prospects.   We recognise complex pressures at work in us; things we shy away from; the challenges we embrace; our nagging doubts; the colleagues we find difficult.

In Jesus, God meets us precisely where we are, as we are. Here in the stillness, beauty, word and music of our worship. Later in the conviviality of hall; as we go about our lives tomorrow, might there be a shadow of a burning bush.

A place where Jesus' love and humility, his wisdom and mercy break through the barriers we build around our hearts in fear. He continues to reach out to grieving, joyous, fractured and hopeful humanity. He draws us, and people who are nothing like us, to treat others with dignity. That all may find freedom to flourish.

Where do we see glimmers of light amidst the shades of grey?  What is it that ignites our curiosity or arouses our passion for justice?  We are caught up in God's story. We are to be channels of his healing and reconciling love -  directing our time, energy, learning and skills towards goals that transform our world.

To be bearers of the flaming warrant of truth confronts the power of illness, inequality and discrimination.  It's expressed in the way universities have marked LGBT history month; it's reflected in how we raise the profile of charities - including their research, outreach and fundraising.

The thin unbroken thread of grace that transformed Moses runs on.  You have an awesome potential to be agents of change - bringing grace into law and commerce; research and teaching; public service and creative arts.  We are called to walk in the light of Christ, by the power of the Spirit at work in us, revealing something of God's love. We do that moment by moment; conversation by conversation; embodying courage and possibility: the power is real; the story is for ever; the time is now'.




©  Julie Gittoes 2016