The Sub Dean's sermon preached at the 11am Choral Eucharist on Sunday 11 August 2024.

I am always amazed by the effect that reading a book can have on you. For me one is by a Roman Catholic priest, Vincent Donovan, entitled 'Christianity Rediscovered, an Epistle from the Masai.'  In it he writes about his long ministry among the Masai tribe of East Africa.  Adapting the Christian message to the culture in which it is preached was vital to his work.  He recalled how important it was whenever he entered a village to pick up a tuft of grass, and present it to the first elder who greeted him.  Grass is an important sign among the Masai.  Since their cattle, and they themselves, lived off the grass, it was a vital and holy sign to them; a sign of peace and happiness and well‑being.  During heated arguments a tuft of grass offered by one of the Masai and accepted by the second, was an assurance that no violence would erupt because of their differences.  No Masai would ever violate that sacred sign of peace, because it wasn't simply a sign; it was peace. 

So at the beginning of Mass, the priest picked up a tuft of grass and passed it on to the first elder and greeted them with the words, "the peace of Christ".  They accepted it and passed it on to neighbouring elders and their families.  The grass had to pass all through the village.  In teaching the villagers about the Mass, Fr Vincent had tried to teach that it was not easy to achieve the Eucharist.  It wasn't simply an act of magic accomplished by saying some words. If the Eucharist was not the offering of their whole life, the family raising, the herding, the milking, and working and singing, then it was hardly the Eucharist at all.  And so sometimes the Eucharist wasn’t celebrated because of negative attitudes and behaviour. He writes that at other times the villagers could say together, "This ‑ not just the bread and the wine, but the whole life of the village; its work, play, joy, sorrow, the homes, the grazing fields, the flocks, the people ‑ all this is my Body."  (p 127)

Today we gather together as the Body of Christ in this place, around the altar of God, to worship and receive Jesus in the Eucharist.  The great plains of the Serengeti on which the Masai graze their cattle may seem a million miles away from Southwark.  But the message preached to the new Christians of the Masai, is a message which has something profound to say to us this morning.

The offering of our worship here at the altar Sunday by Sunday and day by day is an offering of our whole lives and our world to God. And so we bring to God the pain and joys of our daily experience, our doubts and concerns and worries, our hopes and dreams.

As a community we are seeking to come to terms with the news of the tragic death of Ian Keatley. We pray for the repose of his soul and for consolation and peace for his family and friends and for us. Today we remember the many facets of Ian and our experience of him. For many we will have known him as a professional musician when we experienced Ian’s perfectionism and exacting high standards as he sought to enrich our worship of God through the gift of music and song. It was a wonderful to see the joy in Ian’s face as he conducted the choir and to see that reflected back in the choristers’ faces. For Ian’s family and closer friends they will have shared his love of life through his generous hospitality and sense of fun. We offer up all these memories as we offer bread and wine for the life of the world.

For Ian, music and worship lay at the heart of his faith, and the words of Jesus in our gospel reading, now become a reality for Ian as he continues on his journey into the heart of God. 'I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.'

Some Christians see the church as a building, a fortress, a refuge which protects us from the outside world; from the situations going on which make us afraid and uncertain.  They think that we can find peace and harmony and forget about the plight of those crossing the Channel and looking for refuge, the civil unrest across the country we have seen in recent days with frightening displays of discrimination and hatred from the far right, Elsie Dot, Alice and Bebe murdered in Southport and those injured and traumatized, and the terror and hopelessness of those living in Gaza and Israel, in Ukraine and Russia. The list seems endless.  

I believe that our vocation as Christians is to bring the pain and agony of the world to God in our worship and to seek to be part of God’s transforming love of our world. The walls of this cathedral are here not to exclude the world, but rather to include everything and everyone. The bread which we take and break at the Eucharist is bread broken for a new world, a place of love and hope where there is no room for hate.  Just as Christ's body was broken on the cross for the salvation of the world, so when we break the bread we offer up the brokenness of our world, our society, our church, our relationships, and our very selves. 

In the Eucharist we gather together as the people of God, those who have heard the good news of the love of God and seek to live it in the world.  It isn't a cosy service for people who have the same sort of ideas and enjoy each other's company.  At the Last Supper Jesus told his disciples that his body and blood would be broken and poured out for all people - not just the chosen few, but everybody.  And in today's gospel he emphasises, 'the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.' That means not just for the church, but for the people of the world, for those who have heard about Christ and those who have not.  In the Eucharist we see and recognise Jesus in one another, seeing the face of the beloved in the person sitting next to you.  The breaking of bread should enable us to see the face of Jesus in all people, yes, even in the people we don't particularly like or get on with. 

Today we thank God for giving us the strength and grace to do God’s work in the world, and that all people are called, with their gifts and blind spots, into fellowship with Christ at his banquet on earth and in heaven.  Here at the altar we are nourished with the bread of life and then sent out to by the same Christ with a mission to nourish others and give them hope, drawing them into the feast of God's Kingdom.  

As the missionary priest told the people of the Masai it's not easy to make Eucharist.  It means that we have to give up much, making space for God, for each other, for love.

As Paul wrote to the church in Ephesus, ‘be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you.’