St Paul's Cathedral - Tuesday 13 May 2025
Eve of St. Matthias: Isaiah 22. 15-22 and Philippians 3. 13b-4.1
Can I begin by thanking the Dean of St. Paul’s and the Clergy Support Trust for their kind invitation to preach at this service. It is a great privilege to participate in this 370th anniversary service and I’m grateful for the opportunity to thank CST for their continued support of clergy right across the Church of England and, of course, especially in Chelmsford Diocese.
Today is the eve of the festival of St. Matthias the Apostle, and our readings are those set by the lectionary. I’d like to offer some brief reflections, in particular, on the passage from St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians.
My first thought when I came to prepare this address, was that the second half of verse 13 is an odd place for the reading to start: “Beloved”, it begins, “I do not consider that I have made it my own.” What is the “it” that Paul hasn’t made his own? To understand that we have to go back a little way, at the very least to vs 10 where Paul says: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection”. Paul, with countless others since him, seems to be tussling with an issue so central to our faith, which is that it is possible to find healing and wholeness through new life offered by Christ crucified, though it’s not always easy. Personally, I’m with Paul. “I do not consider that I have made this my own”, in that I can’t claim fully to understand, explain or live by the claim, but I’m eager to press into the mystery further, to be enfolded by it more deeply and for my life to be shaped by it more completely. And that, of course, is the invitation to all of us.
So, broadly speaking, in verses 13-16, Paul sets out his aim to know Christ and the power of his resurrection more fully. Then from verse 17 to the end he begins to incorporate some suggestions about how we might do this not just as individuals but in community. And there is underlying the whole passage a driving principle that might appear contradictory but, like many contradictory or paradoxical truths in the Christian faith, has to be grasped and grappled with if we are to inhabit faith more deeply. And the guiding principle, as Paul articulates it is that, on one hand we are to forget what lies behind and strain forward to what lies ahead (v13) and on the other hand, only hold fast to what [we] have attained (v16).
For me, this apparent contradiction of “forgetting the past” while “holding on to it” is multilayered. Let me mention just two of these: a theological one and a more practical one relating to wellbeing (though as ever these are not entirely distinct). First, theologically, we are being encouraged to hang on to the foundational truths that have been passed on to us, whilst at the same time being open to the whisper of the Holy Spirit who continues to lead us into all truth. This means accepting that our understanding of truth is always partial and incomplete and that some things may need to be let go of if other things are to emerge. It’s not one or the other – clinging on to the past, or letting go of it - but wisdom is needed to help us do both. To perceive what is essential and unshakeable whilst also discerning when to recognise new ways of being and understanding. That is the task of the whole church community; and as we know, it can be painful and slow. But ultimately if we are to do it well, we must commit to one another in love and unity, accepting that none of us sees the full picture and that if we are to build up the body of Christ, rather than tear it down, we need each other in all our diversity, brokenness and in our faltering efforts.
And what about the practical implications of forgetting what lies behind and straining forward on one hand, whilst holding fast to what has been on the other. What might this have to say, especially, in relation to wellbeing – what might we learn about how to cope with those challenges and problems in life that threaten to impact wellbeing - the pain and suffering that comes our way? When do we recognise and even accept these, refusing to flee from them, and when do we try to shake off those things that would constrain us, that prevent us from finding freedom and release. This is a huge area, for human emotion and psychology are immensely complex and we could easily find ourselves drawn into the boundless themes of forgiveness and justice. Given the limited time we have I want to tread carefully and cautiously, simply lifting up the corner of a possibility, to explore what St. Paul’s principle might have to say in relation to suffering (in its broadest sense) and wellbeing; or in other words, living well as Christian disciples.
Well, I don’t think that “forgetting what lies behind” implies ignoring or minimising past pains or indeed present sufferings or failures. It’s more subtle than that. This is, rather, about encouragement gently to let go of those things that hinder us from moving forward well. To name the hurt and the failure, which is “to hold fast to what you have attained”, to what has been, as it were; and to name reality - to recognise the wounds and the disappointments, accept that they too are part of making us who we are but that, crucially, they need not define us, nor set the pattern for how we move forward.
None of this is to say we shouldn’t seek justice or make necessary changes where possible nor is to say that suffering and pain are good in and of themselves. But it is to understand that we need, at some level, to make peace with those difficult elements of our lives, to accept that they too are part of what it means to be human; that life isn’t perfect, but that we need not be despairing in the face of the challenges. That refusal to cling on to painful memories, or wallow in self-pity, is a form of straining forward to that which lies ahead, leaning into the future that God is calling us towards, in hopeful expectation that in Christ there is always transformation and the possibility of new beginnings.
And just like the work of discernment that the church community does together, so too creating a healthy culture around wellbeing is a shared task. It’s right and proper that each of us should take responsibility for our own wellbeing, resisting the urge, too quickly, to point the finger of blame for our troubles, elsewhere; putting in place support structures, asking for help where necessary, and accepting the things we cannot change. And at the same time, all of us must be sensitive to the needs of those around us, cultivating an environment in which it’s OK to ask for help, in which we notice and act when someone is struggling who may need to be carried for a while; developing a culture in which fragility and vulnerability are not seen as signs of weakness but as gifts than can be used by God.
As I begin drawing to a conclusion then, I hear Paul’s voice in this passage exhorting us, both to look back and strain forward; in life and faith, to draw on the best of what has been and on the enduring truths, whilst sitting light to those things that might hold us back and limit the work of the Holy Spirit. Paul is inviting nuance over polar opposites, complexity over simplicity, the joy of new life over stagnation. And his exhortation is for each one of us individually, but always within the context of Christian community. In v 17 he says “observe those who live according to the example you have in us”. He doesn’t point to distant saints as exemplars but to the community itself even as it struggles to live according to the mind of Christ. He is, with profound subtlety, directing the gaze of the community not towards individual perfection but to a realisation of Christ’s love within an imperfect community. The community, just like the individual, is always flawed but struggles to understand how faith is lived in the world and within its own particular context. Paul holds up as the right way of living, not some perfect template, but the very struggle itself; the struggle to become ever more Christ like.
So, as each one of us continues that struggle for ourselves, and as members of the communities we are part of, may God give us grace to recognise what we must strive to maintain, and what we might need to let go of; and may we grow in understanding how to accept our shortcomings and our pain whilst refusing to be held back by these. In short, how to accept what has been, embrace what is and joyfully move towards what is yet to come.
The Rt Revd Dr Guli Francis-Dehqani, The Lord Bishop of Chelmsford