As Marie knows, I spent ten days in Cuba almost a decade ago. This morning I looked back through my photo album - yes, these were the days pre-digital photography. There were images of brilliant blue skies and stunningly vivid sunsets; there were photos of the faded glory of some of the colonial buildings and also the physical transformation of the centre of Havana itself.
Looking at pictures of musicians playing at a cafe-bar or of young and dancing in the Square in Cienfuegos, I can conjure up the tropical warmth, the atmosphere, the syncopated beats and the cocktails! Classic cars, ladies rolling cigars, Havana rum, washing lines hung across balconies all those stereotypical images are there. The statues of Che Guevara; the bold slogans alongside Castro's name. I remember too simplicity of rice and beans contrasting with an authentic mojito.
Passionate prayer; memories of a holiday!
Alongside the photos, I kept a drink stirrer. Not because I had spent a week on a resort lapping up the sun on an all-inclusive; but rather because it reminded me of the more challenging and contrasting stories I heard. It reminds me of privilege and exploitation as well as enjoyment and hospitality. Our guide talked to us about the time when Havana was the play ground for the rich and famous in the 50s; the exploitation of a people under dictatorship; the dynamics of revolution; the impact of embargo; the missile crisis; the economic strain; the pride in education, healthcare and local culture.
And things are changing. Cuba is attracting our attention because of the opening up of diplomatic relations by President Obama; because Pope Francis met with Patriarch Kirill at Havana International Airport - at the cross roads of north, south, east and west. Our prayers and worship today, unites us with them in our desire to share with the world the hope of our faith that lies within us.
Their joint statement speaks of our shared faith in God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit; they acknowledge the pain of our division and the suffering of persecuted Christians; the desire for deeper unity and necessity of religious freedom. They said 'in a world which yearns not only for words but also for tangible gestures, may this meeting be a sign of hope for all people of good will'. They long for 'the fruit of justice' in the face of the crises facing the international community; for a rediscovery of the common values between us.
Our theme today invites us to explore the vision of God's Kingdom too. Perhaps we bring with us a range of questions, assumptions and hopes: what does that Kingdom look like? How do we seek it? To whom does it belong?
Isaiah expresses a long term hope - he gives us 'signs' of what the Kingdom looks like. God doesn't judge by the human structures of power and authority; God's justice is rooted in righteousness for the poor. Faithfulness to the people's of the world is integral to God's character and it is manifested in the call for equity for the meek. The language of equity is part of political and economic discourse. Sometimes we use it to protect what 'we have'. Yet the nature of prophetic challenge turns that upside down. It is reducing inequality that flourishing occurs - lambs and wolves, perhaps exploited and the powerful, are called into such a kingdom. A kingdom of stability.
The theme of this service focuses our reflections on the 'kingdom of God' made present in our earthly context in the phrase: 'receive children; receive me'. What does that mean?
Symbols of Cuban lifeand culture - including my photo album!
In part, it speaks of our calling to be an intergenerational church: where wisdom and understanding is given and received on the lips of the youngest as well as the mature in faith. I have lost count of the times when in teaching Sunday School or confirmation class, I learn or rediscover something of the challenge at hope at the heart of the Gospel. Likewise, I have frequently found encouragement and inspiration taking communion to those who've remained faithful to God for eight decades or more.
We live in a world which privileges youth - you might have heard Mary Beard reflecting on grey hair on Radio 4 today! Yet, younger generations are under strain in education, work and housing. At the same time, we marginalise the elderly, the sick or isolated. Perhaps the increasing numbers of people experiencing and talking about loneliness is an indicator of those pressures.
We aren't as far removed from the concerns and hopes of the people of Cuba as we sometimes think: education, housing, health, stability and the desire to have simply enough. The longing to flourish. Together. We share with them a vision of God's rule - not just in the future, but breaking into our lives now.
Shortly before the children were brought to Jesus, he'd been talking to his disciples about his own death and the hope of risen life. They didn't understand. Instead they get caught up in a conversation about who was the greatest amongst them.
When Jesus asks what's going on, they fall into an awkward silence. Perhaps they're aware of how much easier it is fall into human jostling for position than to face God's inclusive love; how tempting it is to root our identity in perceived strength of social position, achievement or influence than to face the frailty of our human nature. How challenging it is to realise we are called to lay ourselves open to the costly way of service.
Jesus subverts the conventions of human society by telling us that if we receive a child - the one without voice, power or status - we welcome him; we welcome God. There is something compelling when a person of power welcomes a child. We might think perhaps of the many pictures of Obama delighting in engaging with children at their level.
Howver, the latest video to go viral, however, was of the President dancing with an elderly lady who'd lived through race segregation to seeing a black man in the White House. Perhaps that is just one example of the power of prayer. Prayer is the most risky thing that we can do; it changes us and transforms structures.
In God's Kingdom, we draw all the marginalised into the centre of our life together. We live with different values of who is important or worthy of attention. We welcome the people who aren't like us. In doing so, God is with us.
People wanted Jesus to touch and bless their children; perhaps the disciples wanted to keep moving, walking to Jerusalem. Perhaps they thought it was a distraction to spend time with those who weren't important. Jesus' priorities - the priorities of the Kingdom - are different. He focuses on the weak, the vulnerable, the unnoticed; the people who are easily neglected, abused, marginalised or exploited. The child, the dementia sufferer, the refugee, the young man with autism, the woman holding down 3 jobs to pay the bills....
If the Kingdom of God belongs to those without power, we can learn from them. A child is utterly dependent. They receive with grace and simplicity. Their innate trust and delight embodies the way in which we are to be before God.
We don't earn God's grace. We can't fight for it. We can receive it. And in receiving it, share it with others in all that we do and say. In our informed prayer and our prayerful action. That is what today is about, in solidarity with the women of Cuba. As the Pope and Patriarch expressed it: we share with them in 'grace-filled gratitude for the gift of mutual understanding'
We are invited to pay deep attention to God and to the fragile in our world - in order that our communities may reflect his glory and love, the depth of his mercy. May we in the power of the Spirit, witness to the love of God made manifest in Jesus Christ. The one who is God with us - the one who says receive children, the marginalised, the vulnerable; receive me.
Some examples of Cuban baking!
© Julie Gittoes 2016
