On Friday, Huntingdon celebrated in style as we gathered in All Saints to celebrate the wonderful renovations there. "Tapestry" came to sing to us, and were marvellous. I remembered how "medieval" in the sense of being rather dark and dull the church was ten years ago, and how the re-ordering had in fact restored the real medieval heritage of the church to both it and the town, opening it up to light and colour and community use. Now I am back at All Saints to preside and preach at the eucharist with the church people who made it all possible. The heart of being here today for me is to share as Bishop of Huntingdon in celebrating the transformation of this church of All Saints in Huntingdon along with the whole work of the town centre Anglicans, and to share in the joyful offer of transformation to the whole community of Huntingdon which these churches serve and which has been at the heart of Andrew’s ministry as the priest of this place. There is a strange symmetry that he and I who began our work as incumbents in the same team should now both be of the same place again and be retiring from it at the same time. So it is good to be here, and whatever else we do we must celebrate; and whether we are in church or not it’s time to do it in style, so Hip Hip … Today is also an opportunity to reflect on the ministry of a church like this, and today’s readings point to three great truths that apply it all such churches: Firstly, however marvellous they are, they pale into insignificance compared with the wonder of the universe that God has made and set us in. We must not be seduced by them (and I say that as a churchaholic and chairman of the Historic Churches Trust) but always remember that they are there to serve God’s creation and the community they are set in; that their most important feature is actually their door; and that that door must stand open to all. It is of the nature of both the Gospel and our Anglican parish church tradition that all are welcome in this place, and with a special care for those who are often least welcome in the world at large. That is what the ministry of Christ looked like and that is what our ministry must look like as well. Secondly, our churches do nevertheless serve a special and universal need that we feel, and that I think we all feel in some way, in fact, whatever words we use: to mark the holiness of God (if we dare use that word) and the holiness of life, to be a place where we can celebrate all that is special and beautiful from lives well lived to the creative arts, and to be a place where we can also come to pour out our sorrows, seek forgiveness and find healing for our wounds. Here especially, if church is being what church should be, we encounter a presence, a stillness, a sign of hope, the presence of the God who in truth is present everywhere, but so often not seen or felt. But thirdly, the scriptures in their realistic account of life as we know it make it clear that the path from the wonder of the world writ large and the wider community within it on the one hand, and the special, deep encounter with God that we seek in a church and the particular community of faith that inhabits it, is not a straight one. The labyrinth that has been so beautifully made here points to the same truth. Every life and every faith journey is full of twists and turns. And no church, no minister, not even Andrew, can make such a journey for someone else. They can point to possible answers but not force the answer or be the answer: this is a journey each of us has to freely make for ourselves, invited and welcome but never corralled or coerced. The door stands open for all, but we must decide to walk through it. In a moment we will symbolically go out through that door and into the marketplace to pray for the town that this church was built to serve, a landing craft for the good news of the Gospel of Jesus for it, not an escape craft from it. The good news is gift, is grace, is gladness. And then we will come back into church, again symbolically bringing the whole town with us on our hearts, and bring it the altar of God, the communion table of our Lord Jesus Christ, where saints and sinners are alike invited to take their seat. For some of you, that eating place which is a meeting place will be a place of familiar company, a place where you have known Christ present for many a year. For others of you it may be a new thing, an unfamiliar invitation, even an awkward one. But this is a place where Jesus turns strangers into friends, so if you will, whether it is a new thing or an old one, share today in this Holy Communion; and share in the work of not just transforming a building and giving it new life, but transforming lives here in Huntingdon and beyond, and giving them new hope for the future too. David Thomson | September 16, 2018 at 8:57 am | Categories: Uncategorized | URL: https://wp.me/poSLL-3Cy |