Village Shepherd

In small villages, everyone knows if someone new comes to live in the village. When a young, unmarried mother moved into one of the council houses with her four children but no husband or partner, the village was agog. But no-one paid her a visit. She didn't quite belong. In this particular village there had never been any unmarried mothers with lots of children. There had, of course, been village girls who had "got into trouble" and become pregnant and who had been spoken about in hushed tones, but never anything like this. Never anyone moving in from outside with a brood of kids and no man.

The young woman lived on state benefits (known to some of the villagers as state "handouts") and opinion was divided over how much money she had coming in. Some were full of righteous indignation because it was clear that the woman had never had paid employment, yet was living off the state. Others thought she probably didn't get much and that what she did get wouldn't go far with all those children.

Things came to a head when she approached the church for help, or rather, when her social worker approached the church for help. The vicar took the request for some money towards heating costs, to the PCC. The PCC (Parochial Church Council - the ruling body of the local church) debated long and hard over the issues. Some members of the PCC were all for helping her out. They argued that this was what the church should be about - helping the poor. But other members were more cautious. They thought that the state should be providing for the family's needs, and if the church started paying out, the government certainly wouldn't pay any more. They argued that they all paid for people in need through their taxes. And they added that if you once started something like that, you'd get request after request and there was no saying where it would all end. It was the thin end of the wedge, and the woman would never be encouraged to get off state benefits if the church simply stepped in and gave her even more handouts. Besides, what about people who had lived in the village all their lives? What would they say when they knew the church was handing out money to strangers?

In the end, the more generous members of the PCC won the day and the woman was given a weekly grant throughout the winter to help with the cost of fuel. She brought her children to church once or twice after this, but the service wasn't really suitable for children and they were a bit disruptive. Nobody said anything, but there were one or two looks. After that, she supported the church at the annual church fete on the village green and turned up with the family for occasional services like Harvest Festival, but she didn't really get to know anybody and some members of the church were a bit miffed that she took the church's money but didn't give anything back.

At around the same time, another new family moved to the village. Dad was a solicitor, Mum worked part-time in the local doctors' surgery so that she could be home when the children came home from school, and they had two children. They brought the children to church, where the children behaved beautifully. After the service, lots of people gathered round to welcome them to the village and to the church and the whole family soon played a central role in the church.

Although we may have no intention of doing so, many of us tend to treat rich and poor differently. We know those people who are "one of us" and we have no difficulty in welcoming them and encouraging them to feel a part of our group, whatever that group might be. But some take longer to be accepted. They may simply be a little different. They may be shy, or speak with an unusual accent which marks them out as foreigners, or they may not quite fit the stereotypes. Or they may come from a different group and be regarded with some suspicion, as though they have some hidden reason for suddenly joining our group.

This sort of discrimination was such a problem in the early Church, especially the Jewish branch of it, that James, the brother of Jesus and leader of the Church in Jerusalem, wrote about it in his letter. "My brothers and sisters," said James, "do you with your acts of favoritism really believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ? For if a person with gold rings and in fine clothes comes into your assembly, and if a poor person in dirty clothes also comes in, and if you take notice of the one wearing the fine clothes, have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil thoughts? Has not God chosen the poor in the world to be rich in faith and to be heirs of the kingdom that he has promised to those who love him? But you have dishonored the poor. Is it not the rich who oppress you? Is it not they who drag you into court? Is it not they who blaspheme the excellent name that was invoked over you? You do well if you really love your neighbor as yourself. But if you show partiality, you commit sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors."

One of the reasons why Jesus was so hated and feared by those in power was because he showed no partiality. He treated the rich and the poor exactly alike, a task which was hard in a world which was clearly defined into strict social strata which nobody questioned. Jesus dined with the sort of people that few of us dine with - prostitutes, thieves, untouchables. And in today's gospel story he healed the daughter of a gentile woman after treating the woman as an equal, something which Jewish men did not do in first century Palestine.

In our society we are perhaps more subtle. We rarely come across people outside our own social strata, so it looks as though we never discriminate. But in villages here in Norfolk there are still people who won't come to church because they think that church isn't for the likes of them. They used to attend the Methodist chapel until Methodist chapels all but disappeared from villages, because that was where they felt comfortable, and some of them were unable to make the transition to the Parish Church. I've even met people who feel that they're "not good enough" to come to church, although happily, such discrimination does now seem to be waning.

Like Jesus, our message must be one of welcome to all. If some people feel unwelcome because our services feel alien to them, perhaps we need to consider offering services which are easier to attend. When we had an outdoor service on the village green earlier in the year, quite a number of people listened from a distance, not venturing too close, but staying to listen nonetheless. Perhaps we need to build on those sorts of easy and non-threatening services, for our prime concern must be to tell the people about our Lord and our God.

Then we can reassure ourselves that we really do believe in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ.