Encouragement Or Bald Truth?
Sermon
We Christians, especially in the Church of England, tend to be quite good at making the best of what might be considered by some to be a bad job. On the whole, many of our congregations are diminishing, some small village churches have closed for lack of support, and others feel themselves to be teetering on the brink of extinction because so few attend services. This isn't a new phenomena, but has been gradually occurring over many years.
Back in 1995, to celebrate 900 years of our diocese here in Norwich, the then Bishop of Norwich undertook a pilgrimage of all the parishes in the (mostly rural) diocese.. He wrote a book, "Bishop Peter's Pilgrimage", detailing an account of his adventures in the different churches and meeting thousands of people. The foreword to the book is by the Archbishop of Canterbury, who says this: "The truth he reveals from first-hand experience is not at all the one which is so often portrayed by the media, of a Church that is shrinking. On the contrary he produces solid evidence of a Church that is lively, growing, adventurous and hopeful - and where the level of churchgoing is proportionately far higher than in many urban and suburban areas."
We all felt immensely encouraged by the Bishop's observations. It felt especially good to know that a congregation of nine people in a village church for instance, was proportionately much higher than a congregation of a hundred and twenty in an urban church.
Unfortunately, when reality set in, we all realised that even if nine people is 10% of the local population - a much higher percentage than normally attend church in the cities - it's still too few people to be viable for long, and it still feels as if the church is empty and shrinking and teetering on the brink of extinction.
There are many good things going on in the country and in country churches, but actually the "solid evidence" is not that the Church is "lively, growing, adventurous and hopeful", but that on the whole the Church is shrinking probably as much in the countryside as elsewhere.
It always feels good to be encouraged, but if that encouragement eventually turns out to be false optimism, perhaps it's better to hear the bald truth and to face the pain of dealing with that truth.
But whatever the truth of churchgoing in the UK, we should be encouraged in one way, because it's not only us who are susceptible to encouraging but unrealistic noises. It seems this sort of encouragement has been going on for a long time, since the earliest days of the Christian Church, when St. Paul was out and about on his missionary journeys.
Paul's second missionary journey didn't start too well. At the beginning of the journey, Paul and Barnabas split (Acts 15:36-41) and Paul chose Silvanus (Silas) and Timothy to go with him. (Acts 16:1-3).
About A.D. 50, the three of them arrived in Greece for the first time, but it was to be a tough time. They made a lot of enemies in Philippi and Thessalonica, enemies who included both Jews and Gentiles. Even when Paul and his party moved on, they still faced hostility from enemies from Thessalonica, and Paul was forced to flee to Athens (Acts 16:11--17:15), leaving Silvanus and Timothy behind in Beroea.
Then Paul sent Timothy back to Thessalonica to support the new Christians there, because the church had inherited the hostility that Paul and his band had generated via their missionary work (1 Thessalonians 3:1-5). It was when Timothy finally returned to Paul about a year later with a report on conditions at Thessalonica, that Paul wrote his first letter to the Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 3:6-8).
Paul begins his letter with lots of encouragement for the Christians at Thessalonica, but in today's reading it begins to sound a bit like the kind of false optimism which basically says that everything is fine, when actually it isn't fine. Paul starts by protesting that his visit to Thessalonica wasn't a failure. Yet he was chased out of the city by irate Jews and Gentiles, and it sounds as though the Thessalonian Church did regard Paul's visit to them as a failure.
But the protestations continue. Paul goes on to remind the Thessalonians of the courage of his own small band of missionaries when faced by violence at Philippi, and how he doesn't care what people think because he's acting for God, not for people. And there have probably been all sorts of rumours and criticisms, for Paul tries to reassure them of the purity of his motives. He says, "For the appeal we make does not spring from error or impure motives, nor are we trying to trick you."
Perhaps the three missionaries were a bit too zealous for their audience, for Paul goes on to protest, "You know we never used flattery, nor did we put on a mask to cover up greed--God is our witness. We were not looking for praise from men, not from you or anyone else."
And Paul denies that he and his fellow missionaries were too harsh or too abrasive in their presentation of the gospel, for he claims, "we were gentle among you, like a mother caring for her little children. We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us."
Poor Paul. Perhaps someone has told him a few home truths, and he's realised for the first time that too zealous or too harsh a presentation of the gospel doesn't win converts but produces unnecessary hostility. On the other hand, Jesus' message was always uncompromising, and sometimes harsh, so perhaps it's inevitable that when the gospel is preached properly it will raise hostility and hatred.
Like Paul and his band, we're in a missionary situation in the UK whether we like it or not. Churchgoing is now a minority interest, no matter how often we tell ourselves that there are more people in Church on Sundays than attend football matches. That may well be true, but the bald truth is that the majority of our country are ignorant of Jesus Christ and we need somehow to tell them about him.
There is also considerable hostility to the Church and to the Christian message, from the media and from society in general. Should we make encouraging noises, even if they are somewhat over-optimistic? Or should we tell people the bald truth?
Looking back at history, it may well be that St. Paul had it right. He preached an uncompromising and honest Christian message, but then he was gentle and encouraging with the Christian Church that he had established. The Church started in a small way against great opposition and even violence, but it held firm and eventually grew, and Christianity spread throughout the land.
So maybe that's the answer for us too; to preach an honest and uncompromising gospel message, but to treat new Christians and Church members with gentleness and encouragement. We shall only know when we try it out, and it may be that history will be our judge. And whatever happens, perhaps we should remember something that St Paul knew only too well - that in the end it doesn't depend on us, it depends on God. As long as we do what God tells us, we can safely leave the results in his hands.
Back in 1995, to celebrate 900 years of our diocese here in Norwich, the then Bishop of Norwich undertook a pilgrimage of all the parishes in the (mostly rural) diocese.. He wrote a book, "Bishop Peter's Pilgrimage", detailing an account of his adventures in the different churches and meeting thousands of people. The foreword to the book is by the Archbishop of Canterbury, who says this: "The truth he reveals from first-hand experience is not at all the one which is so often portrayed by the media, of a Church that is shrinking. On the contrary he produces solid evidence of a Church that is lively, growing, adventurous and hopeful - and where the level of churchgoing is proportionately far higher than in many urban and suburban areas."
We all felt immensely encouraged by the Bishop's observations. It felt especially good to know that a congregation of nine people in a village church for instance, was proportionately much higher than a congregation of a hundred and twenty in an urban church.
Unfortunately, when reality set in, we all realised that even if nine people is 10% of the local population - a much higher percentage than normally attend church in the cities - it's still too few people to be viable for long, and it still feels as if the church is empty and shrinking and teetering on the brink of extinction.
There are many good things going on in the country and in country churches, but actually the "solid evidence" is not that the Church is "lively, growing, adventurous and hopeful", but that on the whole the Church is shrinking probably as much in the countryside as elsewhere.
It always feels good to be encouraged, but if that encouragement eventually turns out to be false optimism, perhaps it's better to hear the bald truth and to face the pain of dealing with that truth.
But whatever the truth of churchgoing in the UK, we should be encouraged in one way, because it's not only us who are susceptible to encouraging but unrealistic noises. It seems this sort of encouragement has been going on for a long time, since the earliest days of the Christian Church, when St. Paul was out and about on his missionary journeys.
Paul's second missionary journey didn't start too well. At the beginning of the journey, Paul and Barnabas split (Acts 15:36-41) and Paul chose Silvanus (Silas) and Timothy to go with him. (Acts 16:1-3).
About A.D. 50, the three of them arrived in Greece for the first time, but it was to be a tough time. They made a lot of enemies in Philippi and Thessalonica, enemies who included both Jews and Gentiles. Even when Paul and his party moved on, they still faced hostility from enemies from Thessalonica, and Paul was forced to flee to Athens (Acts 16:11--17:15), leaving Silvanus and Timothy behind in Beroea.
Then Paul sent Timothy back to Thessalonica to support the new Christians there, because the church had inherited the hostility that Paul and his band had generated via their missionary work (1 Thessalonians 3:1-5). It was when Timothy finally returned to Paul about a year later with a report on conditions at Thessalonica, that Paul wrote his first letter to the Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 3:6-8).
Paul begins his letter with lots of encouragement for the Christians at Thessalonica, but in today's reading it begins to sound a bit like the kind of false optimism which basically says that everything is fine, when actually it isn't fine. Paul starts by protesting that his visit to Thessalonica wasn't a failure. Yet he was chased out of the city by irate Jews and Gentiles, and it sounds as though the Thessalonian Church did regard Paul's visit to them as a failure.
But the protestations continue. Paul goes on to remind the Thessalonians of the courage of his own small band of missionaries when faced by violence at Philippi, and how he doesn't care what people think because he's acting for God, not for people. And there have probably been all sorts of rumours and criticisms, for Paul tries to reassure them of the purity of his motives. He says, "For the appeal we make does not spring from error or impure motives, nor are we trying to trick you."
Perhaps the three missionaries were a bit too zealous for their audience, for Paul goes on to protest, "You know we never used flattery, nor did we put on a mask to cover up greed--God is our witness. We were not looking for praise from men, not from you or anyone else."
And Paul denies that he and his fellow missionaries were too harsh or too abrasive in their presentation of the gospel, for he claims, "we were gentle among you, like a mother caring for her little children. We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us."
Poor Paul. Perhaps someone has told him a few home truths, and he's realised for the first time that too zealous or too harsh a presentation of the gospel doesn't win converts but produces unnecessary hostility. On the other hand, Jesus' message was always uncompromising, and sometimes harsh, so perhaps it's inevitable that when the gospel is preached properly it will raise hostility and hatred.
Like Paul and his band, we're in a missionary situation in the UK whether we like it or not. Churchgoing is now a minority interest, no matter how often we tell ourselves that there are more people in Church on Sundays than attend football matches. That may well be true, but the bald truth is that the majority of our country are ignorant of Jesus Christ and we need somehow to tell them about him.
There is also considerable hostility to the Church and to the Christian message, from the media and from society in general. Should we make encouraging noises, even if they are somewhat over-optimistic? Or should we tell people the bald truth?
Looking back at history, it may well be that St. Paul had it right. He preached an uncompromising and honest Christian message, but then he was gentle and encouraging with the Christian Church that he had established. The Church started in a small way against great opposition and even violence, but it held firm and eventually grew, and Christianity spread throughout the land.
So maybe that's the answer for us too; to preach an honest and uncompromising gospel message, but to treat new Christians and Church members with gentleness and encouragement. We shall only know when we try it out, and it may be that history will be our judge. And whatever happens, perhaps we should remember something that St Paul knew only too well - that in the end it doesn't depend on us, it depends on God. As long as we do what God tells us, we can safely leave the results in his hands.
