Sermon by Fr James Heard, 2 July 2017, United Benefice of Holland Park, Thomas the Apostle

Sermon by Fr James Heard, 2 July 2017, United Benefice of Holland Park, Thomas the Apostle

Have you come across the term VUCA? [I came across it from Dr Eve Poole, who will be speaking here next week] It sounds like something you catch in a swimming pool. But apparently not. It’s military jargon to characterise the times in which we now live. It stands for: Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity. It’s also the buzzword in the corporate world.

It also seems to me that the Christian faith is fundamentally characterized by VUCA - Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity. Just to take one significant example: the person of Jesus. Wholly God and wholly man. What?! Not only that but consubstantial, co-equal, and co-eternal with God and the Holy Spirit, the three-in-one. No wonder we need John to swing lots of incense to veil the complexities of the Trinity.

However, what VUCA describes is a mature grown up faith. Whilst we rightly simplify things when young, we describe things in clear black and white terms, and that’s important, its fine when young or first learning. But we don’t remain there. We grow into people who can cope with things like volatility, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity. And not only just cope but embrace such things.

Last month saw the death of Robert M Pirsig, author of the 1970s publishing phenomenon Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. In it, he makes the point that our need to carve things up into categories is about ego. Because certainty, evidence and measurement is really arrogance. Insightful words. Secular society has been fed an unremitting diet of empiricism since the 1700s, starting with Descartes and his quest for indubitable rock solid foundations. So it’s not surprising that we are all Doubting Thomas’s now. As we have heard in our Gospel, Thomas was so keen on proof, that he wanted not only to see the wounds of Christ, but also to feel them around his fingers. Its depicted in a rather graphic way in the image on the front cover of our service sheet. St Thomas was the great empiricist of the Gospel… unless I see, unless I touch, I will not believe.

Many Christians have attempted to embrace such empiricism and have written books. One book I remember growing up with was by Josh McDowell: Evidence That Demands A Verdict. Another author [John Warwick Montgomery] of the 1970s wrote: Faith Founded On Fact; Essays in Evidential Apologetics. For these authors, the evidence is all very black and white and clear. How can anyone not believe?

But I’m not convinced, nor are many others. The scandalous nebulousness of religion, the un-quantifiable, non-calculable nature of religion, is what the world really needs the most. Christian theology teaches us to relax. We don’t need to know. Of course, diligent truth-seeking is also encouraged. It’s important to delve deeper, to think carefully about what we believe.

But we will never really know, because that is God’s job, not ours. This compulsion to prove God’s existence is supremely well-intentioned, but it seems to be more about us, than about God.

We are more than just thinking, calculating machines, biologically refined over millions of years to survive. To survive for what? Who are we? Why are we here? It's a question with which all of the religions have grabbled. And this central un-knowing requires a response of faith, not certainty. We don’t even need to be certain of our faith, because God isn’t impacted by the quality of our belief.

While less people are attending church in the UK, many so-called secular Brits express a yearning for the divine, an unquenchable desire for some melody from ‘beyond’.

Many find themselves attracted to the benefits of faith: the uplifting sense of openness to beauty and goodness, and the trust that our best and deepest aspirations in life are not arbitrary flailings around in the dark – in a completely meaningless universe – but are part of the quest for, as Wordsworth put it, ‘God, who is our home’.

Recognizing this God who is beyond knowing requires a response of faith, not certainty. The Christian faith has evolved over centuries of liturgy, providing a stability for faith, even when the signals seem weak. When going through difficult times, experiencing depression, doubting whether or not God is there, the rhythm of the liturgy is able to hold us, offer hope, and do so in a context where there are companions to walk alongside us on the journey.

Through liturgy, the we are exposed to reinforcing messages, week by week and year by year, in a perpetual cycle of lectionary and worship that has been going on now for two millennia. And these aren’t simplistic messages, they are fraught with the disagreements and tensions. 

Finally, prayer. The corporate world is doing this through mindfulness. Prayer is about re-alignment with God. The practice of pausing to give thanks, to ask for help, and to remember others is a vital exercise in reclaiming perspective. Prayer is connecting with God/Ultimate Reality.

In his reflections this week, Richard Rohr described prayer as like striking a tuning fork. All you can really do in the spiritual life is resonate to the true pitch, to receive the always-present message. Once you are tuned, you will receive, and it has nothing to do with worthiness or the group you belong to… We must begin with the knowledge that the Sender is absolutely and always present and broadcasting; the only change is with the receiver station, you and me.

In these moments, we hear again and again that we are loved even when we don’t know the answers, or when we get it wrong. We know that there is always a second chance, and an opportunity to improve. We know we are destined for great things, and this confidence gives us courage in the face of VUCA. You don’t have to believe in God to know this, really: because God believes in you.

Along with St Thomas, we as individuals and as a church, are invited to walk a new path of faith. A path that is unafraid to question, doubt, test and explore. It’s a scarier more open path that is willing to embrace mystery and paradox. And it’s a path we are invited to walk with compassion, forgiveness, patience, and generosity.