SERMON FOR TRINITY 2 | 14.06.2015
I guess that for most of the time, we don’t think much about how our English system of Law works. So when John and Hilary Roden described to me, after Mass last Sunday, just how difficult - and expensive – it now is to get a case to court, I was genuinely shocked. I knew that legal aid had been made more difficult to obtain but it didn’t occur to me that even in relatively straightforward cases that might come up in the family courts, only those with money can now get their cases reviewed.
And it is that kind of practical and ordinary event that is the background to all the celebrations of the sealing (not signing apparently) of Magna Carta, 800 years tomorrow. As most of us know, after some disastrous wars in France when King John lost most of our territory in France – and a rather unfortunate mislaying of our national Crown Jewels when he dropped the lot in the marshlands of the Norfolk Fens – the English Barons finally forced King John to give up his right to do exactly as he pleased.
For the first time “No free man (of course this wasn’t about the majority who were in some kind of serfdom) could be seized, disseised (have his property confiscated), outlawed or exiled, without a proper trial.” But then you knew all that from the Robin Hood stories about the Sheriff of Nottingham!
On the other hand you will also remember from the Maid Marion elements in the Robin Hood story that Magna Carta didn’t do much for the place of women who were still treated as chattels belonging to their husbands - although in the revised edition they weren’t forced to remarry if their knight husbands died in battle.
So despite its limitations, Magna Carta has maintained its place as the key democratic event quoted in the trial in 1649 of Charles 1 (who still rather thought he could do as he pleased), the Glorious Revolution of 1689 which saw the overthrow of his brother James ll, the writing of the American Constitution in 1776, the Suffragette movement of the 1900s and the 1998 Human Rights Act! That all seems rather worth celebrating!
But it does lead me on to ask: what is the place of Law in the Christian tradition? If, as the German theologian Gerhad von Rad taught, we are made in the image of God, then we are to be God’s representatives, called to maintain and enforce God’s desire for justice and truth in every dimension of life. That would suggest the need for a compendium of instructions (such as we find in the Old Testament), which gives precise details about how we should behave and how we should behave among ourselves.
Fifty years later, another German theologian Emil Brunner challenged von Rad: instead of living according to the Law and regulation – because of our ‘Fall from Grace’ in the Garden of Eden – Brunner said we would best ‘image God’, when we learn to love others equally.
As you know this debate takes us to the heart of the great tension within the Christian tradition – featured in so much of St Paul’s writings – the conflict between Law and love, between the keeping of rules, and the genuine desire to put others before ourselves and to give without counting the cost.
So in our second reading St Paul writes: You foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? Did you receive the Spirit by doing the works of the Law or by believing what you heard?For all who rely on the works of the Law are under a curse; for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who does not observe and obey all the things written in the book of the Law.’
In other words all those who rely on the Law will always fail because all the Law does is point up all the things that we aren’t doing right! ‘Cursed is everyone who does not observe and obey all the things written in the book of the law.’
And yet we can so easily get stuck into the ‘Law’ way of doing things! Law seems reliable; Law seems to make sure we are fulfilling the requirements of best practice; Law sounds like the best and final guarantee that will protect everyone.
The Church of England is very good at this mode of thinking with its oaths and courts and its way of paralleling civil law with its references to trusteeship and charity regulation. Even here at St James’ the PCC can so easily get itself browbeaten into fearing the consequences of not making ‘Law’ the dominant focus of its thinking.
But this isn’t what Jesus taught and it isn’t St Paul’s conclusion either: The one who is righteous will live by faith, in order that in Christ Jesus the blessing of Abraham might come to the Gentiles, so that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith.
Now don’t imagine that I am preaching anarchy or anything like it! Another member of our congregation, Ken Thompson, who was formerly a Professor of Sociology at the Open University, reminded me on Wednesday of another Emil, (though spelt differently) Emile Durkheim. Now I don’t want to bandy theologians with you but I do want to share this one insight.
Durkheim spent quite a lot of time asking why there is more crime among those who are likely to achieve less in society? His view was that those who are under-achieving are the ones most likely to be frustrated - because they can’t enjoy what they see that others have. The result is that they suffer from ‘anomie’ (= strain or imbalance). When they think that others are getting more than they can achieve legally, they resort to crime and to violence. I think we can see that in any page of our newspapers on a daily basis
And Durkheim’s solution is not to crack the whip, to impose more rules or more Law - to stop people taking this course of action. Instead, he says, we ought to be making sure (through our political life) that more opportunities are open to everyone – creating a more balanced environment, avoiding ‘anomie’, this tension between groups. It is the kind of idea that Bishop David Shepherd of Liverpool and others have called ‘the bias to the poor’: giving away our privileged position for no other reason than it is the right thing to do.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus, standing before Pilate, had every legal right on his side, every power as the Son of God, every justification for striking down the pompous nonsense of the Roman courts.
And yet, instead of resorting to law, to upholding his claims, he stands there, empty. The Greek word is kenosis. No force, no desire to control, no smart replies – just love. He would accept all that came to him because he knew that, ultimately, the power of Rome would all be swept away and his gentle, sacrificial way of loving others would prevail in the end. And of course it has.
It always has. The story of Solomon and the two women in our first reading is only partly about how wise Solomon was. At the heart of this story is a test of love over law. How much are you willing to give for those you cherish? One woman said kill the child so that the pain was equally shared: the other said, I am even willing to give the child away if that means it will live.
Magna Carta was a great achievement – as far as it went. It reduced the corrupt power of a tyrant and has been an inspiration for Durkheim and for generations of others who have sought to right the balance between the powerless and the powerful.
But it only takes us so far. St Paul again: Does Godsupply you with the Spirit and work miracles among you by your doing the works of the law, or by your believing – and by your loving?
And incidentally, if the Law had more love in it – more genuine giving - it might also be more fair…