[A sermon preached to Hinckley Unitarians on Sunday 11th of September 2022]
(Readings: Luke 15:1-10 and Letter 2 from The Screwtape Letters: Letters from a Senior to a Junior Devil by C. S. Lewis)
One chapel I have worked in used to be called the “mayor’s nest”. It was in the centre of what was a powerful industrial northern city and, at the time it was known as the “mayor’s nest” it contained virtually all the richest and most powerfully connected people in the city. Form factory owners, to scientists and investors, to library benefactors, as well as people of culture and the arts.
If you were a man, and it was usually men, in this city at that time and you harboured political aspirations, then that chapel was where you needed to be seen to worship at if you wanted to become mayor of the city. That congregation was the “in crowd” and they looked after their own, using their connections as a class. The chapel was the place in town to be seen, and the congregation was the people in town who you needed to be seen with if you were going to make it!
Most other Unitarian congregations did not share this level of status or privilege. Most were forced to build chapels that were modest looking (at least from the outside), trying to camouflage them as something else to avoid undesirable attention. The first Unitarian congregation I was ever a member of had a chapel that was originally only accessible by going into a pub, heading to the function room at the back, opening a nondescript door in the back of that room, only then to be confronted with the chapel building. I imagine passing trade was low.
Our congregation has likely historically stood somewhere in the middle of this spectrum. However, at least nowadays, I do not think any of us come here purely to hobnob among the rich and powerful people of the town – at least I hope not – if that is your aim than you are likely to be left disappointed!
Making a commitment to spend time as part of a religious community such as our own is not just about accepting that doing so is unlikely to enhance one’s status. It also means putting up with people we might consider to be far from perfect! At least a first!
C. S. Lewis captures this brilliantly in his letter from The Screwtape Letters that we heard as our second reading today. Lewis was undeniably conservative in his theology, and the reading certainly shows the social attitudes that were prevalent in his time, but I think he manages to capture something that is universal for anyone who has ever experienced a church service in this letter.
Let’s face it, all of us have had moments when we are trying to sing though what we believe to be a dull and dreary hymn with words we can barely read, all while having to put up with the person one pew along singing completely out of tune, and we have thought to ourselves, “what on earth am I doing here?!”
We also all know of people who go to church regularly who may not have always been particularly nice to us or may have done things we consider to be awful.
With all this it is no wonder that many people prefer to go for a walk or just have a lie in on a Sunday morning.
I put it to you however, that the most authentic expression of church will naturally contain people who annoy us. We will not start kicking out people who cannot sing in tune, or people who talk a little bit more loudly in moments when many would prefer if they did not talk at all. We are not going to start kicking out hypocrites either.
I am reminded of a story about an old rabbi who dedicated himself in his last active years to teaching future generations of rabbis. One year he taught a series of classes to his students on morality and ethics. Before the last lecture, he emailed all his students to say that, “I will not tolerate hypocrites in my lectures.” When he strode into his lecture theatre he was greeted by row upon row of completely empty seats. He turned around and strode out proudly knowing that his teaching in previous classes had been successful – thanks to him not one of his students were now immodest enough to believe themselves to be above hypocrisy.
We have sometimes been nasty to people for no reason, we have all sometimes been a bit out of tune when singing a hymn. If we all got kicked out of these things, then the church would be empty. If we all genuinely never did these things, then none of us would have any reason to come here.
This was the point Jesus was making by visibly hanging out with tax collectors and other sinners. The ultra-religious pharisees were so caught up in personal devotion and purity that they believed that hanging out with folks like that made one spiritually corrupted. Jesus did not care about this. He knew that people who already considered themselves to be perfect and holy had no need for him – his ministry was a ministry with the outcast – those people who society had given up the idea that any good might come of them. Those were Jesus’s people.
The parable of the lost sheep reminds us that there should be no outcasts from our church. It is holy and right for us to be together and not to force anyone away. Floks of sheep are better when they are together, despite any differences they may have, even if the lost sheep was shunned by the rest of the flock and not seen as desirable for them to be around – the shepherd will still unite them.
Because of this, our congregation will never be cool, or hip, or trendy – or anything that might make it at all exclusive. It will instead, I hope, always be authentic and thus continue to be open and welcoming of outcasts and oddballs.
No matter how irritating you might find someone who’s shoes squeak, or sings out of tune, I put it to you that that sort of devil you know is far better than those which tradition would have us believe work to divide us on such things.
So long as you are happy to be in community with such outcasts and oddballs then you will always be welcome here.
Amen.
