delivered 10 May 2009
by Rev. Dr John Evans
Acts 8:26-40
Psalm 22:25-31
1 John 4:7-21
John 15:1-8
Dr Bev Campbell
On Thursday Bev Campbell’s book, Reading the Fine Print, a book about the Victorian Adult Literacy and Basic Education Council was launched. Many of us were there. It was a good night. Congratulations to Bev on the book!
There was one comment at the launch which struck me. A group of passionate people, now over 30 years ago, were prepared to address a major social issue; many people could not read and write in English and they were thereby socially disadvantaged and marginalised. Nothing less than a comprehensive social, political and educational movement was required to address this situation. Thus a movement began which paralleled other great social movements – whether of workers, or of women or of indigenous people.
And it occurred to me, isn’t that really what the church is too? What the Uniting Church is? What this congregation is? A movement: a movement, with a core group of passionate people, to transform lives so that all may have a full life in relationship with God and others.
Our readings from Acts through this season of Easter are about these early days of this movement, just after the death and resurrection of its founder Jesus of Nazareth. Our reading this morning is another instructive chapter in this movement’s history.
A Greek-speaking convert, Philip by name, not long after the murder by stoning of another Greek-speaking convert Stephen, takes the message of this movement to first Samaria and then is headed on this road to Gaza – that same Gaza which is so much in the news today.
Through the guidance of the Holy Spirit he is able to unpack the scriptures and speak of Jesus to a complete outsider – this Ethiopian eunuch. This message, the good news, the gospel is beginning to be heard and preached to people beyond the confines of the Jewish faith. The movement is growing and spreading.
Then we have in our reading from John’s gospel more about the very nature, theology if you like, of this movement. Many metaphors are used in scripture to try and describe what this movement should look like, what it should do, how it should relate back to Jesus and God. The human body is a favourite metaphor or Paul; elsewhere there is the image of a chosen race. Here, Jesus uses the image of a vine and branches.
Just as in a grapevine it is difficult to distinguish between where the branch might begin and end, so there is to be a mutual indwelling between Jesus and his followers in this living (or is it life-giving?) plant. Last week the image was the relationship between the shepherd and the sheep – this week it is the relationship between the vine and the branches.
“Abide in me as I abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.” (15:4)
But there is an edge to this image. If a branch is not bearing fruit, the vinedresser lops it off and throws it into the fire. At the end of the day, the branches exist to bear fruit and life. And so it should be with this movement.
All this is relevant to us here at the Church of All Nations as we think about not only our life together, but this worship space and what it should look like, so that we may receive and offer that life.
Worship, of course, is not the only thing this congregation does. As we say in the Basis of Union of the Church, a congregation must be engaged in worship, witness and service. However, when it comes to a church building itself – like this building – worship is the primary, but perhaps not the only, focus of architecture and how this space should be organised.
Indeed the relationship between architecture and how worship is offered is complex. As James White, a leading writer on church architecture and its theology, says,
“Church architecture reflects both the way Christians worship and the way the building shapes worship – or not uncommonly, misshapes it. As our practices and concepts of worship change, major changes in the building are necessary. Although we are not quite so pessimistic as to think the building will always prevail, certainly it may be a major obstacle to what the community intends in its worship. At the same time, a well-designed building can be a great asset in enabling the community to worship.” (Church Architecture: Building and Renovating for Christian Worship, 1998 p15)
So every church building should be judged in terms of how well it serves the worshipping community of faith. As White says, “the primary symbol of Christian worship is always the community itself, assembled in Christ’s name” (p16).
So what assists that body of Christ — that vine and its branches, that movement, that congregation — to worship?
How does our building here serve us in our worship and our life together, and what do we need to do to address its shortcomings?
I would like to submit our context, style and nature of our worship has changed enormously since this building was dedicated in 1870; and in many respects, things have not changed.
Join with me out here as we look around our church. First consider its shape and its size.
From the outside it obviously looks like a church. And that is an important message I believe we still need to convey. We are a community who believe in and worship God.
It is interesting, pagan temples were built as a monument to a god or gods – and the people were excluded. They were to be looked on from the outside, whereas a Christian place of worship is a place of gathering. Indeed we as a congregation place great emphasis on being hospitable and welcoming –- drawing people to worship, and calling them to respond in love. Is this space welcoming?
Now inside here we are rather barn like. The shape is not obviously in a cross shape, cruciform, or points to the sun rise or has other features of architecture; there is the cross, but it relies on our furniture to indicate it is a place of worship.
As a community of Christ we have the view that participation is important; all people can participate with their gifts and graces. Certainly this is a strong tradition here at CAN. Now I believe I am stating the obvious – our pews affect us in doing this . . . their number, their density, their uncomfortableness are not welcoming or allowing of participation.
The space is also large, confident in its proportions; it is built for many people. . . although not quite as many as they thought – because the galleries were not completed. Does size, in terms of the numbers we can squeeze in here, still need to be the same? But then again we still wish to have confidence that as a community we can expand, there will be large occasions here – so what is the number we would look to have accommodated here . . . to be a significant place of gathering?
However, paradoxically there is also a need for intimacy, perhaps not all the time, but we did build the Fullerton Chapel some years ago. Can we be flexible here in our worship to balance this need for participation, intimacy and growth, and be welcoming?
So is there an adequate place for Christian fellowship – not just in the context of worship – but say, after worship, before worship, during the week – for that cuppa and chat? Again, isn’t this a part of being hospitable, welcoming?
Looking at other features of our space.
The organ. At the outset the organ is now recognised as being of great significance in Victoria. It is on the State’s register of historic objects, and what we do within this building must not affect the organ. And that is why the building has been also registered. So the organ is here, and will need to be here – although once it did live up in the gallery.
But I want you to consider the organ. Once it was the most sophisticated musical instrument humanity could create. In 1877 it represented the cutting edge of technology. This was state-of-the-art in music making. And quite rightly this would be used in the worship of God.
What do we need to do about other modern, state of the art, digital technologies, in our worship of God: sound systems, projectors, electronic instruments and the like? Do we incorporate all of these within our worship and if so, how? And what about the needs of our music group – both instrumental and voice?
The Pulpit. When was it last used regularly? The 1970s? What does it tell us about worship? It is magnificent furniture = the importance of the Word? But it is then just for one person – remote and removed from the community itself. Was this designed for performance? Where should the word be located?
The Sacraments. For most of this church’s life, the table of our Lord has been enclosed here – and separate from the people. Indeed the table may have been pushed back against the wall. (Was it the small table from the Fullerton Chapel?) Do our sacramental furnishings indicate that holy communion is important to us? Is this table of our Lord welcoming, hospitable – seeking people to come and remember?
And of course there is the great debate about communion rails. Kneeling is appropriate bodily posture for worship – however, does it need to be architecturally sanctioned?
Our baptismal font – its history I do not know – but what does it tell us? Is baptism important? Are we encouraged to be generous with water? Where is it located? A reminder as we enter, or held in tension with the word and the eucharist?
Of course one marvellous feature of this church is the bluestone relief cross. Always before us. Always dominating this space. What of other crosses or art, or religious symbolism do we show? Do we need to show?
Service. Finally how do we balance our worship with our witness and service in the space? For a long time now, this space has been used for many things – serving the poor of this community, bread, huge amounts of bread, are sorted, packed and given away here. Choirs practice here. Other church groups use this space. Concerts are held here. Yes, it is our place of worship, but how can our flexible use of this space enhance our engagement with our community and indeed our current worship, witness and service?
Of course the starting point for these considerations is not the design of an architect, or perhaps the money, or the heritage listing. Are we truly a movement, a group of pilgrim people – perhaps prepared to re-pitch the tent, not because that is a good thing to do, but the gospel today demands it . . . because well, if it is not bearing fruit, we need to cut it off, and be that life-giving vine; and be a dynamic movement here in Carlton.
