‘Kairos’ Eucharist
Portsmouth Cathedral
6.00 p.m. 1st February 2004
Readings: Mal 3:1-5/Lk 2:22-40
Why are we here tonight? There was an occasion recently when someone questioned that wonderful, open-ended word ‘kairos’ because it was Greek – whereupon someone else in the room gently fired back, ‘what about ‘Alpha’, then?' ‘Kairos’ means a time of opportunity. It was used by a group of South African theologians when they put together a dossier that helped the Churches counter apartheid. We are here to celebrate a different time of opportunity and the prime reason why we are here is that God has done something for us, and we are responding to that generosity, that over-flowing generosity, by meeting around his table, in order to encounter ourselves and one another, in his presence.
At this as at every eucharist, there will be some baggage to bring, some expectations we hope will be met, and perhaps a bit of seasonal colour. Tonight that colour is provided by the strange narrative, only found in Luke’s Gospel, of the forty day-old Jesus being brought to the temple as the first-born son, along with his mother and father. On the surface, which is where most of live much of the time, the scene is just like any other young family then. But Luke, inclusive and surprising as ever, throws this conventional scene into chaos by bringing in two other characters about whom we hear nothing again: two elderly people who do not spend all their time on the PCC blocking every new idea, but instead are waiting and praying in the temple – no religious buildings can really live unless prayer is offered in them. First, Simeon does something very unconventional, by taking Jesus in his arms, and goes on to prophesy about the child’s future, which will not be without conflict; and then Anna, a prophetess, underscores what Simeon has just said and done.
So we are left with a future for Jesus that is not open to vague possibilities that are always easy or positive. The life of faith involves choices, challenges, controversy. And, as we try to unravel the million and one reasons why Jesus should end his earthly life on a cross, we are brought face to face with that very human failing, at which the Church often scores highly, of misunderstanding each other. All this has a direct bearing on the work of ‘Kairos’ in the coming years in the diocese. I have no predetermined plan, even if some would in their heart of hearts prefer it that way – as long as it was just what they wanted! We are on a journey, and we have to explore, we have to dig, we have to work and pray together, and, above all, to trust one another, even if we don’t agree on everything. After a recent meeting in London, Archbishop Rowan went up to someone who was obviously upset by the tenor of the discussion and said in his gentle, kindly way, ‘you see, everyone in the Church of England can make themselves out to be an oppressed minority if they really want to!’ The Candlemas gospel keeps placing Christ, the servant and son of God, centre-stage – as part of a drama of life and faith. Simeon takes hold of him, and offers him, along with Anna, to the ages yet to come. Just consider for a moment the many, the countless different ways in which Christ has come among his people since then, from Birinus bringing the gospel to Hampshire in the seventh century, missionaries in Ghana in the nineteenth, to the day-to-day work of the gospel in our communities at this very moment.
Eight years as a bishop may have done many things to me, but they have not (I hope) entirely made me forget what it was like to be a parish priest. Whenever some great new initiative came to us, I always asked myself two questions: ‘what has this one got to do with the last one?’, and ‘how can my parish benefit from it?’ ‘Kairos’ builds on the Stepping-Out programme of 2002 that provided practical encouragement to many of our parishes in how they related to their communities in mission and service; and its purpose is to look more widely and more deeply at how we can create together, with God’s grace, a more strategic future in the mission of the gospel. That means looking at our communities in new ways, so that our patterns of ministry and the way we use our buildings serve the needs of today rather than those of a hundred years ago. I’m not interested in slick recipes for short-lived success. I’m not interested in turning the Church into a success in the modern business sense of the term. What I am interested in is a Church that is faithful to the gospel. What I am interested in is a coordinated faithfulness to the gospel that respects our theological diversities and social variations, but leaves no one alone in splendid isolation. We live in a spiritually bleeding world that is asking some really searching questions, and it is time we spent more of our energy on them than we often seem to be doing. Although public perceptions are not always fair, the fact of the matter is that the Churches in general, and the Church of England in particular has a reputation for fighting about money, women, sex – and each other; and it simply won’t do.
I am really delighted that from right across the diocese tonight you have travelled to be with me in our Cathedral, to dedicate ourselves to the work of ‘Kairos’, and to pray for our parishes and communities, that we may – together – discover what the Spirit is saying to us now. None of our endeavours will reach their goal without prayer, and so it is essential that prayer is at the centre of all that we are doing this coming year. The Candlemas message is about removing Christ from the cosy confines of his family, in order to share him with an unknown future, through a pair of unfamiliar people. The road that leads to Galilee, Calvary and Emmaus was not an easy one. But in all the wonderful challenges and opportunities, God will always be with us, the faithful God, whose universal character Luke tells us about again and again, from the lost coin to the penitent thief, from the lowly manger to the mount of ascension – and beyond, into all eternity.
+ Kenneth Portsmouth
