Sunday, April 15, 2007

Carnis resurrectiónem, vitam ætérnam

Sermon preached at St Peter and St Paul’s Church Swanscombe based on Ezechiel xxxvii.1-10, I John v.4-12, John xx.19-23

Gus struggles to his foot
as the rest of the congregation begins
to recite the Apostles’ Creed.

He lost his foot at Dunkirk
and the rest of that leg is still suffering
the effects of shrapnel.

These 60 years of wandering around
on crutches have given him
terrible arthritis in one hip and knee
as well as various aches and pains
in his shoulders.

It pains him to stand.
It pains him to sit.
It pains him to lie down.

So how do you think he feels
when he reaches in the Creed
the words
“the Resurrection of the Body
and the Life Everlasting”?


The Church says that on the Last Day
we will all be raised,
like the Lord Jesus,
from the dead not as disembodied souls,
but as human beings with physical bodies
able to see, hear, smell,
feel and taste.


Do you think Gus wants to believe that?

Do you think he would want
to spend the Life Everlasting
with the body that he has now?


[PAUSE]

The next day,
Monday,
Gus visits the doctor.

“Gus, we’ve got a new painkiller here.

It’s called Disagonyzin
and it should ease that pain you’re suffering.

Take one three times a day.”

Gus readily receives
the prescription
and makes his way to the Chemist.


It’s really effective.

Gus has the best night’s sleep he’s had in ages.

He’s out of bed easily,
and it’s a good thing.

He’s wanted to be ready
to see his new granddaughter,
Erica, for the first time.

Erica is just five days old
and apparently is a real cutie,
with beautiful pink skin and lots of hair.

He washes and shaves with ease.

He’s especially pleased
because the Disagonyzin
has taken the edge off of shaving.

It isn’t half as uncomfortable
as it was before.


He’s smartens himself up
and gets ready for the bus ride to the hospital.

On the bus,
Mrs Mills’ shopping trolley
runs over Gus’s foot.

It hurts,
but it isn’t the agony that Gus
would have expected.

“This pain-killer is really wonderful,”
thinks Gus,
“even Mrs Mills’ bumper packets of Daz
don’t hurt me that much!”

At the bus stop,
he’s off and away like a three-legged whippet.

He wouldn’t normally be able
to do that without severe pain,
and Gus is glad because
he is really excited about seeing
his little Erica.

Soon he is beside Julie’s bed
gazing at Erica lying across
her mum’s chest.

“Why don’t you hold her, Dad?” asks Julie.

Gus gently picks up the little one
from her mother and cradles her.

“She’s lovely,” he says beaming.

“Isn’t she?” says Julie,
“she’s got the softest skin,
and her hair is so thick and silky,
don’t you think?”

Gus strokes Erica’s hair and cheek, and frowns.

“I don’t know how soft her skin is.
I don’t know how silky her hair is.
I can’t feel them.”

[PAUSE]

Do you believe in the Resurrection of the Body
and the Life Everlasting?

After all, if there is no body,
then there is certainly no pain.

There are no nerves to feel
the aches of the human condition:
arthritis,
rheumatism,
stubbed toes,
indigestion
and the more severe pains
are all meaningless
either in a body that is numbed to pain,
or for a soul without a body.

But, as Gus realises,
the soul without a body
is also numbed to
the more wonderful sensations of life,
the warmth of the sun,
the nursing of a baby,
the taste of home-made chocolate cake.


If there is no Resurrection of the Body,
then our destiny is to become disembodied souls,
clinging onto vague memories
of what it was like
to be given a peck on the cheek
or to drink a cup of tea.

Is that Heaven?


What is the point of God giving us bodies
if we are only destined to lose them,
and all the joys that go with them?

[PAUSE]

Human beings are unique among God’s creation.

Animals are just bodies without souls;
angels are just souls without bodies;
human beings have both.

We are a unique fusion of body and soul.

This is how we are meant to be.

We’re not supposed to be split into two things
– a body and a soul –
but rather we are incomplete
if we are one without the other.

We are neither animal, nor angel.


Look at Ezechiel standing amongst the dry bones.



Watch as, with a rattling louder than
Patrick Moore’s xylophone
after he’s downed a gallon of Red Bull,
they are put back together
and given flesh,
but they are not human until God
breaths their spirits into them.

See that God raises the dead,
body and soul together.

If we cannot accept this,
then we deny the Resurrection of Christ in the flesh,
and if we deny the Resurrection of Christ
then we cannot be Christian,
and if we are not Christian
then we cannot be saved.

[PAUSE]

“Behold, I make all things new,” says God.

The body we have at the last day
will be able to experience
all the wonderful things we can feel now
but not pain.

St John tells us:
“there shall be no more death,
neither sorrow,
nor crying,
neither shall there be any more pain:
for the former things
are passed away.”

It won’t be that we are numbed to pain,
but rather there will be nothing in Heaven to hurt us.

As Sam Tyler is told in “Life on Mars”,
it is only when we feel nothing
that we know we are truly dead.

If there is no Resurrection of the Body,
then the pain we suffer now
is meaningless.

We simply will not feel the love of God,
we will not live
– there will have been no Resurrection.

Would you honestly choose
an Eternity of numbness
over all those wonderful sensations
God really does have planned for you?

The Church believes in
the Resurrection of the Body.
Do you?

1 comment:

poetreader said...

Friend,
This is a great sermon. O've never heard similar things saud half so well. Thank you!
ed