Saturday 2 May 2015

Commissioning of Street Pastors



I am about to go out and preach at the commissioning service for street pastors in our community in Rye. I have written this reflecting on this morning and on our call to be out there doing something... More information on our local project can be found here
www.ryeandbattleobserver.co.uk/news/local/pastor-project-hits-the-streets-1-6717763
and also:www.streetpastors.org/locations/rye/

“Why don’t you just do something?” Ever had that said to you? “I want you to make a difference to my life as it is right now.”
Tonight we gather at a momentous point in the story of the Christian church here in Rye and District as we commission street pastors and launch this wonderful and necessary ministry in this town and around. We are here not just as churches tonight but with police, the mayor, councillors, representatives of community groups and those who have already helped us with expertise – street pastors in Bexhill and in Hastings. We are here, after a lot of prayer, conversation, and more prayer to do something.
“Why don’t you just do something? I want you to make a difference to my life as it is right now.”

You know churches are good at talking, procrastinating, and then making excuses as to why we can’t do something. The need is there but we let the need remain a need as we worry about internal things and spend if we aren’t careful all our energy on a structure rather than a Saviour who sends us out to do. People, it seems to me want to see something coming out of the church today to engage with the church today. They want to know what we will do as a result of a faith we say we have. All the agencies here tonight are judged on what they do to make life better for others. Like politicians. Did you know there is a General Election this Thursday? Mr Miliband was in Hastings this morning. I went to hear him. He told me what will happen if I vote for Mr Cameron. I went home and found my post. A personal letter from Mr Cameron telling me what will happen if I vote for Mr Miliband. The joy of a marginal constituency. The question time on Thursday had the public wanting to know what the parties will do, not what the others will do, people want some action, not finger pointing.

Interestingly, I sat there this morning as Mr Miliband was somewhat late, writing this sermon on a piece of paper.I had this suit on but an ordinary shirt. I was pounced on by one of his people! “Are you a journalist?” she asked. When I told her I was writing a sermon for the launch of street pastors in Rye she had no answer for me!

Jesus tells perhaps the most famous of his parables in response to someone asking what must I do to inherit eternal life. The person quotes the law, love God, with all your heart with all your soul and with all your strength and love your neighbour as you love yourself. “Do this, and you will live” says Jesus. The person asks “who is my neighbour” and Jesus tells the story of the Good Samaritan to make a point about doing the Gospel.
It seems to me the Good Samaritan story is an excellent one to challenge us about whether we are really Jesus sort of people. Let’s very briefly look at the three people who came across need on the street.

Consider the priest and the Levite. They were very cautious. They saw the man but could not risk stopping and helping. The Law had regulations about ritual purity, they couldn’t risk touching a dead body. Perhaps helping might cost money or disrupt the day. They perhaps were on their way to an important meeting! Are we too busy to notice the need on the street, and perhaps more seriously are we wanting the need not to be there, do we wish it wasn’t there? That sort of thing doesn’t happen in Rye. Some people have questioned why we need street pastors. Come to the nightclub at 3am on a Friday night. Walk in Hastings town centre on a Saturday night. There are people liked the beat up traveller, children of God, desperate for some doing from someone to make a difference, a moment of mercy and grace for them, right there.

It is so easy to ignore needy people, or label them, or say the responsibility for them lies elsewhere. We do not want to get involved if there is the slightest chance it will cost us something.
The priest and the Levite put their own version of godliness above human compassion, the meeting about the church hall before interaction with the world. They entered this dangerous territory where love of God is deemed more important than love of his children. Book religion, putting the diary first, instead of tending to the beaten up fellow child of God on the road. We can’t help, you see, it goes against our religion. We can’t help, you see, because there is too much to do at church!

Consider Jesus’ hero - a Samaritan – a mixed blood mongrel, one of those no hopers who denied much of the Scriptures and who kept their own heretical sectarian beliefs. As Jesus told this story, I wonder how many good Jews in the crowd listening spat into the dust when the word Samaritan was mentioned. Yet, it is this despised character who runs to the aid of the victim, tends his wounds, places him on his donkey, and delivers him to a hotel, where he pays for his upkeep.

At no stage, note, does the Samaritan stop and ask if this man is his neighbour. He lives not legalistically but offers the free grace of God. Yes, there was a risk that he like the others could be delayed, yes, he could have counted the cost and worried about money, or his own agenda.Instead, he gave the most practical help and footed the bill. Maybe my favourite bit of the story is this line: “Whatever else he costs, I’ll pay you on my return journey” unpretentiously, he accepts responsibility for a wounded stranger to whom he willingly became a good neighbour. Almost saying, you know, mine is yours, if you need it. When I needed a neighbour, were you there?

The help comes not from who you would have expected, it comes putting prejudice and history aside, it comes because of a desire to help, with no agenda, responding to terrible need.

And Jesus after telling the story says to the enquirer about life and about the neighbour’s identity, which one of the players in the drama was like a neighbour here, and he says “the one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus says “well, go and do likewise.” Perhaps Jesus tonight looks at us and says “why don’t you just do something?” Perhaps Jesus tonight is rejoicing that we have responded, several partners together to respond to a call to be on the streets, and to pray for those ministering on the streets. Perhaps Jesus tonight is saying thank God there is a Christian community, united beyond denominational stuff, intent on showing mercy and doing what I have asked them to do. Tonight is but a beginning but we should be encouraged we are at this point and in this place together in God’s presence and sent out by God’s equipping.

I want finally to make two points about this ministry and the streets. First we are commissioning street pastors to show God to people where they are. Someone rang me this lunchtime wanting to speak to me. His marriage is breaking down and he is in a right mess, and he needs someone to listen to him, urgently. He seemed surprised when I said I can see him tomorrow. A simple conversation, listening and a cup of tea might help him move on or sort some things in his head. Our doing likewise leads us to meet people where they are, and that can be messy and it can be disruptive. I could easily have said to the man “it is Sunday tomorrow, I have no time.” But I could not.  Street pastors are meeting people where they are, and this ministry will be messy. What is done in it? Surely it is offering friendship, respect, helping people to know that they matter no matter what state they are in. I like these words of Bishop Graham James of Norwich who commissioned some street pastors with these words:

  “There is a lot to be said for implicit religion. People don’t like sermons and words but they do believe in people – especially at 3am in the morning when no-one else is there. That is why you are doing this – it is at the very centre of Christian service, it is incarnational.”

“Why don’t you just do something?” “Go and do likewise.” We sometimes only speak of the incarnation of Jesus at Christmas. Our belief is that Jesus is involved in all of life, and not just the nice bits.

Then finally I think tonight is about fulfilling our calling as a church and about realising we are all called together, if we have a Christian faith or not, to build community here and to improve wellbeing here, meeting people’s need on the street and also trying to ease problems and potential for crime and serious consequences. There is a powerful phrase in that Isalah reading we had, a vision of community after exile. The prophet tells the people if they catch the vision of God’s shalom, they will be “a restorer of streets to live in.” Surely that is what we are commissioning tonight, people who walk the streets, minister to need on the streets, and restore hope in broken lives as God’s love is poured out. As one street pastor has said, "We believe that if Jesus was around these days he wouldn't be in a church or ramming the Bible down people's throats - he would be giving practical help to people on the streets.
"We do it because we get a kick out of being a friend to people."

 “Why don’t you just do something?” It is easy to blame others for need, it is easy to walk past it, pretend it isn’t there, have too much else to take up our life. Jesus way is to be there, on the streets, in the pain, in the drunkenness, in the abusive relationship, in the confusion and the fear of people. It is easy to talk about what we might do. Tonight let’s celebrate here in Rye and District all of us, together, and especially, Nizam and the street pastors we will commission, along with the prayer pastors, are doing something. May God be praised and Jesus met through this work.
And let us all, even if we aren’t out there at 3am in the morning, let us all think about what “go and do likewise” means for us. 




No comments:

Post a Comment