Sunday 1 October 2017

Designated Survivor

This is the text of a sermon preached at Guildford Cathedral, Evensong on Sunday, 1st October. In the midst of an intense week, some of my down time has been spent watching the first season of Designated Survivor on Netflix.  As I read the text [Ezekiel 37:15-end; 1 John 2:22-end], I pondered the challenge that Alex poses to Tom - does change mean we abandon our principles? How do we live in a changing world with a vision and values which reflect God's Kingdom? And perhaps because I'm doing some teaching in our Diocese on forgiveness, I can't help reflect on our use (and abuse) of power; and seeking instead God's covenant of peace within which we might become more fully who we're called to be.


What would you do if you were in charge of a nation at a time of crisis? How would you build trust in the face of catastrophe?

For most of us it’s unimaginable scenario; but there are men and women for whom this is not a hypothetical question. It’s only when those who’ve served in high office have retired that we get a glimpse into that world when, or if, they publish their memoirs or diaries.

That ‘what if’ is taken to at the heart of the U.S. drama Designated Survivor: the premise is revealed in the title. During the State of the Union, one member of the President’s staff is taken to an undisclosed, secure location.  It’s a constitutional formality; but a devastating attack on Capitol Hill means that the ‘designated survivor’ has to be sworn in at the President.




Tom Kirkman, the Secretary for Housing and Urban Development, an academic and an architect,  finds himself, in his words ‘trying to put the entire U.S. government back together and stop the country from tearing itself apart’.

In terms of the plot and the script, this is no West Wing: instead it has been described as ‘reliably over the top’; as a ‘middleweight national security thriller’; and as an ‘unlikely soothsayer of our era’.   

It’s certainly more relevant than comfortable: as we watch the news unfold we’re acutely aware of the challenges facing our world; of the pressures at work within the church and the responsibilities of our lives.

At a personal level, Tom  has to make tough choices in the face of suspicion and power struggles. How does he lead with credibility and integrity?  Concerned that ideals are being sacrificed for political expediency, his wife says: ‘Change does not mean we abandon our principles’.
At a corporate level, Designated Survivor holds up a mirror to our social and political life  - highlighting the way in which fears about security and immigration, for example, gnaw away at our values.  Each nation has its own mythology and contradictions. We speak of freedom, sovereignty and opportunity; yet systems of detention, exploitation and use of wealth can undermine the values we seek to uphold.

The scriptwriter David Guggenheim wanted to explore how a nation moves on physically and psychologically after a seismic event: he wanted to take ‘an optimistic look’ at what we can, and should, be ‘with a hopeful president who values… all people’.

The challenge of reconstructing a national self-consciousness is something which concerned the prophet Ezekiel too. After ten years in exile - and with Jerusalem destroyed - the people had given up hope.

Some aspects of the prophetic role are reflected in the demands on Tom as President: somehow trying to articulate a vision for restoration; finding a message of that would galvanise a fractured nation. 

But for Ezekiel, the promise of restoration is not a matter of constitutional principles; it’s rooted in the promises of God.  A few verses earlier, he’s received a vision of dry bones being knit together with sinew and flesh; it spoke to him of how a lifeless and fragmented nation is brought to life - not through human words alone, but the power of God’s Spirt.

Not only will Israel be restored; but the two warring kingdoms will become one nations under the leadership of King David. The joining together of the sticks in Ezekiel’s hand becomes a sign of promise; a sign of a bigger vision.

This isn’t merely some golden age of creativity and commerce, though those things contribute to stability. Nor is it just about the ordering of civic, social and religious life at a human level.  This is about a recalling people to their first love: to God.



They will set aside all their transgressions, apostasies, idols and detestable things - and be cleansed, forgiven and renewed. God says, ‘they shall be my people, and I will be the God’.  

Fulfilling this promise is rooted in the commandments and ordinances of God - which shape our life in love: the Spirit works in us makes real the values of God’s Kingdom: compassion and mercy for widow, orphan, foreigner; the gifts of righteousness and justice are to transform conflict. Even deference to human authority - and the tendency to abuse power or exert control - is relativised under God’s covenant of peace.

This blessing isn't for one nation alone: but though this one nation, God’s promise of blessing cascades throughout the world. This is more than  mere optimism, this is hope. Hope which inspires, challenges and strengths us to seek God’s Kingdom. 

To seek such a Kingdom sometimes puts us at odds with the world. John knew this when he wrote to the early Christian community - and he like Ezekiel begins by calling us back to our first love: to God and to God’s commandments. He does this knowing that the fullness of that love has been revealed in Jesus Christ; that love has defeated the powers of darkness. 

He addresses us with tenderness as little children: perhaps knowing our vulnerability, but also trusting God to increase in our a capacity to love; perhaps he knows the things of which we are most afraid, but also trusting God to enlarge our imaginations with a vision of his ways in the world. 

John talks about abiding: us dwelling with and in God, God dwelling with and in us. We are drawn to the very heart of God’s love: it’s an intimate and tender image. It’s also a challenging one. 

To come into the light and love of God is to acknowledge our sins - the ways in which we hurt others or mar God’s image in us. And yet, we rejoice with John because this light and love brings the gift of forgiveness in and through Jesus Christ.

Jesus is the Christ, the one who brings healing, hope and life eternal - a vision expressed by John Donne as one equal light, one equal music, one equal possession.  

To deny that is to collude with the selfish, proud, acquisitive values of the world. To have confidence in Jesus Christ is to allow the light to shine into the dark places of our hearts and mind; it is for our character to be shaped by God’s love. 




We don’t walk in this light in our own strength, but through the strength of the Holy Spirit who brings comfort, challenging and inspiration. That Spirit increases in us the capacity to value others - regardless of differences of opinion, background or role. 

Change does not mean that we abandon our principles: but in the midst of changing world we are to abide in the God whose faithful love is at work in the frailty of our human nature. 

We won’t be the designated survivor: but this week we will have to take difficult decisions, strengthen teams, achieve goals, cultivate trust and value others - at home, work or school.

As we face those challenges, Evensong gives us a frame of reference: a wellspring of love which restores our vision.  It gives a language of hope, justice and a desire for God’s Kingdom. May we who receive God’s blessing, be sent out in the Spirit in the light and love of Christ.





© Julie Gittoes 2017