Pitching a Tent
by damianfeeney
A Sermon preached to the Fairacres Community, Oxford on Christmas Day, 2010
And the Word became flesh and lived among us (John i.14)
Let my first words be words of thanks to you for the rich privilege of celebrating with you on this wonderful morning. Put simply, I love my visits here. I knew I was going to like it here on my first visit, when I noticed the wonderful inscription which adorns the tabernacle, and saw that key text which lies at the heart of our understanding of the miraculous events of the night, the visible fulfilling of God’s promise and longing for his people.
εσκηνωσεν εν ημιν
The Word became flesh, and dwelt among us; more properly, as you will know, the verb eskenosen carries with it the sense of tent-pitching, imbuing a provisionality, a transient quality, to the means by which the Word became Flesh. Last summer my wife and I decided to give camping another go, after a few years of declaring that after that regrettable incident on the Isle of Wight, when the wind uprooted our tent during a storm at four o’clock in the morning, we would never dally under canvas again. A week on the shore of Loch Lomond was booked; however, we did have the back-up creature comforts provided by some friends who had a splendid caravan nearby, and who provided warmth and good food – so we’re not quite back in the wilds yet! What I have rediscovered is that camping involves a degree of exertion – lots of bending down, and pegging canvas to unyielding ground, trying to create a reasonable shelter. That’s irritating, because the older I get, the more I long for my creature comforts.
Maybe the same is true of my spiritual life. Maybe with age I find myself wanting to settle for a little more comfort where the incarnate God is concerned – perhaps a new spiritual accessory which will help me to avoid the very real business of Christian living, dying and rising which is the pattern of the logos for my life. It seems to be getting harder to knock the pegs in, to make the whole warm and watertight – I would like it to be easier. But this morning I remember that this can never be – there is no substitute for the real authentic life which Jesus offers his followers. I recall this, and I am profoundly glad, because it shows that God’s longing for me is real as well, and that his sublime presence shows that he has not given up on his people.
How much we have to celebrate. God enters his own creation, by means of the womb of a young girl, into a political and spiritual maelstrom, with risk and danger at every stage, a child not immune from the challenges and difficulties of human living but rather immersed in them. This is the first indication of the depth of redeeming love we can expect from Jesus – a love fully consummated at Calvary. Costly, total, perfect love. It is the quality in this passing age which should mark us out in the world – a love which transforms the callousness and uncaring which is so often a mark of the imperfect relationships we form. It is this love alone which awakens the human heart to the immense possibilities of living in God’s economy.
May this love, so evident to those who visit this place, continue to overflow to all who pass through this place, and may the one who pitched his tent among us grant us peace, joy and mercy as we continue to live in the image of the Love of God.
Damian Feeney
Vice-Principal, St. Stephen’s House, Oxford
Greetings Father Damien,
Happy New Year to You, Fiona and the children.
Yes, its that wretched Preston North End supporting churchwarden from Ribbleton.
Just bumped into your blog whilst internet surfing.
Glad to hear you have settled in at Oxford- but isnt it a bit inconvenient for home matches, or are there flights from Oxford to Blackpool? Or maybe you are still chartering a plane. The Palm Sunday dash and chartered flight from Preston to Cardiff for the Johnstone’s Paint final is still legendary around here.
Congratulations to Blackpool FC, they are certainly doing well and I hope they stay in the Premiership for a long time.
I get sick of watching the same merry-go-round of Premiership clubs and their ‘only money buys success’ attitude which is ruining the game.
On my own personal front, besides coping with the ” Deep Gloom Over Deepdale” syndrome, Bishop Nicholas shook my hand after 30 years as churchwarden and told me that its time for somebody else to take over.
If I had known the job was only temporary I never would have taken it.
Take Care
Keith