The day after our arrival we popped over the wall for a daytrip to East Berlin. For those of you not as old as me, essentially this meant that we had arrived in East Germany just in time to catch the aftershocks caused by the massacre at Tiananmen Square.

This trip had a profound effect on me – it was a real culture shock. So many images, and feelings are indelibly etched on my psyche. So much so that as I’m talking to you about it today, 35 years later, I can still see it like a movie in my mind. Some things were odd. The plain brick walls, buildings with no adverts on them at all, making red brick feel grey. Some things were funny. The Lada cars so scarce that there was a running gag that, before you put your newborn’s name down to register them for school, you registered them for a car. It’d take that long for one to arrive for them. And some things were unsettling. At a time before camera phones and selfie sticks, there were the cameras on every roof, at every junction – we’ve let privacy go without much thought with the advent of mobiles – still, then, it felt like a particularly ominous intrusion.

But I’m getting carried away…this isn’t a reflection about that trip. There are many things I could talk about if that was the topic. But it isn’t. This is a reflection about space. Real and imagined, ancient and new, temporary tabernacles and permanent buildings. Safe space. Welcoming space. God’s space. Church.

I wonder what comes to your mind when you look at this image?

Given the reading from Amos, you may be thinking ‘tabernacle or booth of David’.

Or, given our context, this year’s theme of Resurrection for Tim’s tenure as Moderator, your mind may be drawn to ‘tent revival’.

Or you may, like me, have just glanced at this picture with nothing particular in your head and just thought – ‘circus’.

There are some key elements to be found in all of those possibilities. There are performances, and participants observe and play roles. Most importantly, all involve the creation of a clearly demarcated area, that exists in the material world and is designated by the physical boundaries of canvas and pole, but that is actually designed to enable those enclosed within its embrace to access something transcendent.

Having a discrete area where you can go to connect with God in some way is the origin of church. For the Israelites their skene was an earthly place for interacting with God. Highly portable, it consisted of a fenced off area that contained an altar for sacrifices and, of course, the Holy of Holies, the secluded area housing the Ark of the Covenant, separated from the general congregation by a veil, and only entered by the High Priest, once a year. From here we can trace a throughline from tabernacle to Temple to synagogue to church.

Like churches, theatres can also trace their origins back to tabernacles – both are connected to the Greek word for tent or tabernacle – skene.
This meeting of religion and performance is nothing new – they’ve walked through the ages, holding hands, like mardy siblings, coming together at key moments in history and then periodically squabbling over which one is the most useful, the prettiest, the most welcoming…

As you will all know, theatre’s origin story in the UK derives directly from the Catholic church’s desire to communicate Biblical stories to congregations only able to access the Latin mass in church. Conversely, Shakespeare’s Richard III, one of our best theatrical villains, has his origins in portrayals of Herod in Medieval Mystery Cycles. And today? Well, like churches, many theatres are now under existential threat.

The booth of David is in ruins…

As Rupert Shortt suggests in his recent book, The Eclipse of Christianity, in this country at least – we are living through a recession of a profoundly Christian nature.

Elsewhere, where Christians are being heard the loudest, they represent a very different form of the faith than our own. Substituting dogmatism for dogma, they present an image of Christianity armoured in certainty; its boundaries asserted loudly, angrily, intolerantly. The Christian of popular culture is viewed as, at best, irrelevant, and at worst, as an Evolution-denying, human rights oppressing bigot, whose hierarchical worldview remains grounded in Bronze Age fantasy stories. Like Paul and Barnabas in Iconium, truly it could be said that we live in unkind times, where short form video content and online echo chambers have led us to a place where our tolerance levels for uncertainty have never been lower.

And that leads us to tighten ourselves culturally and religiously. To become more dogmatic, more authoritarian, expressing views with unfounded confidence and certainty, loudly and quickly, before anyone spots the enormous, fearful elephant in the room…

And so, it is this authoritarian cultural turn that leads me back to East Berlin. 5th June 1989, just a few short months before the Berlin Wall is pulled down. The East German state is in its death throes and its enforcers, the Stasi, are much more dangerous as a consequence.

And there, in the midst of all of this, is a space. It exists in the real world and in the imagined. Kirche. Church.

During our initial meeting with the church community in East Berlin, one of the ministers apologised because he had to leave us. He had to go to his church to speak to some people who were gathering there to protest against the events that had occurred in Tiananmen Square. The minister had to warn them that the police were intending to use water cannon on them, should they take to the streets. But, he told us, they would be safe in church.

Talking to the church’s youth group afterwards, they talked of church as a place where they could be themselves, where they could dissent and express themselves freely. Because of that, they had chosen church freely, refusing to sign up to the Communist Party as required, a decision they were told would be to their own detriment.

They were proud of their church as a space that could offer the consolation that came from the acknowledgement of the difficulties of their lives as they experienced it. They could trust the church because it was a place of safety. They felt it offered hope in spite of those difficulties – or maybe because of them. Church for them offered a space for reflection to everyone and anyone in that complicated, authoritarian, angry, scary world.

And what’s that got to do with circuses, I hear you cry?

Students of Greek will amongst you will know that the word that speaks to both theatre and church origins is skene – tent.

Reading Amos and Acts, I was reflecting on how we can go about creating a social sacred space, for today’s Iconium? What should our newly raised booth look like?

And this led me to the reflect on the idea of a Circus of Faith…

Less a building, more a metaphor, I wonder if we should join the circus…

A circus consists of a diverse company of performers – jugglers, trapeze artists, clowns, magicians, hoopers, trained animals. Each offering themselves, their ‘act’ as they are. Each act gets its own space and is celebrated for its difference.

The Circus Tent is a space that contains a multivocal, multitalented collection of people, in safety and enjoyment, seeking transcendence.

What could be more church-like than that?

Links to information about Kirchentag:

The with details of this year’s Kirchentag in Hannover

(don’t worry if you don’t speak German, you’ll be offered a translation into English as you access the site)

The

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This act of prayer and reflection begins with washing hands with soap and warm water.

Call to Remember

I will bless the LORD at all times; *
whose praise shall ever be in my mouth.
2 I will glory in the LORD; *
let the humble hear and rejoice.
3 Proclaim with me the greatness of the LORD; *
let us exalt the Name together.
4 I sought the LORD, who answered me *
and delivered me out of all my terror.
5 Look upon the Lord and be radiant, *
and let not your face be ashamed.
6 I called in my affliction and the LORD heard me *
and saved me from all my troubles.
7 The angel of the LORD encompasses those who fear God, *
who will deliver them.
8 Taste and see that the LORD is good; *
happy are they who trust in God!

An Inclusive Language Psalter

Hymn     There is a Balm in Gilead Hymnal 1982, The Episcopal Church #676

General Reflection

Five years ago the world was riveted by news of a strange virus originating in China. Little did anyone know how quickly Covid-19 would move across the planet. All living creatures were affected by Covid-19. Humans covered their faces, doing what social creatures find impossible to do. Not being able to gather with friends, families and community was a trauma compared to world war without human relating, we isolated and stayed in our homes. Nature began to recover, flora and fauna took a deep breath when we could not. Human activity was arrested for a while as the planetary eco systems were stunned by human absence.

Our wider humanity became acquainted with illness and death, often far too young to embrace finitude. The lack of gathering loved ones at the deathbed exacerbated grief and extended sorrow into a bleak emotional landscape. For generations who had never known a global crisis, this was a catastrophe. Covid-19 brought a golden age into existential pain and end. Whilst faith communities resorted to Zoom and YouTube to connect the faithful, others fell away longing for in-person gatherings.

If there was a brighter side, people were forced to slow down. Some days felt like a much needed sabbath rest. The introverted rejoiced in solitude! Our hectic, over thinking, rat race subsided and we were shown our lives do not need to be so full and hurried. Working from home and digital know-how grew at a greater pace. We knew this historical crisis would change us and the after effect would be enacted for years to come.

Praying

Healing Christ,
In marking this time we have not arrived in this present moment unscathed by
Covid-19. With each additional vaccination we know this virus is living and evolving. Yet, we are grateful for medical science and continued miracles of healing and well-being.
With each regret and wince recalling days of isolation we know in spirit we held each other. Yet, we are grateful for the gift of gathering and joining around tables of kinship and friendship.
With the encroachment of human activity upon nature and wildlife we must learn to live in harmony with all your creation. Yet, we have been reminded that we do not need to be greedy to be happy.
With each new viral infection we know this disease does not respect our human divisions of class, sex, age, race, gender, sexuality, faith or none. Yet, we are called to have respect, mercy and compassion for the whole global human family.
In our sorrow bring comfort, as we name before you those we miss and see no more……….
We entrust them, O Light of Life, into your mercy where there is no sighing, tears or remorse. May the light of your life, O Christ, encourage us as we continue our earthly sojourn. In your holy name we pray, Jesus the Christ, Amen.

Hymn     Healer of our Every Ill Marty Haugen

Prayer for Covid Anniversary

Has it really been 5 years Lord?
5 years since lockdown, fear, heroic NHS staff, and a daily death toll on the news?
5 years since panic, uncertainty, and incompetence
mixed with dedication, unity, and scientific ingenuity?
5 years since law breaking was contrasted so strongly with law keeping?

It feels so much further away than just 5 years.
We’ve seen several different prime ministers and a different monarch;
there again we’ve got the same US president back!
The homeless have been returned to the streets
– seems it was too expensive to keep on supporting them after all,
politicians are busy rewriting history,
seeking to influence which lessons are to be learnt,
…and we live with the trauma.

So, we remember before you, Lord, those who have died,
those whose lives are still wounded with grief and long Covid,
and those who gave their lives through caring.
We give thanks for doctors and scientists who found a vaccine so quickly,
for advisors and planners who got the vaccine delivered so well,
and for those who devised treatments to relieve suffering.

But, Lord, we’re left with the pandemic’s legacy –
unanswered questions, unresolved grief, and unaddressed anger
which sit alongside our gratitude and admiration.

We wonder, Lord, what we can learn from the pandemic,
whether we’re ready to hold to account
those who failed to plan,
those who could not lead with integrity,
those who profiteered from suffering, and
those who evaded justice.
We’re left wondering how to deal with both the trauma and the memories,
and, most of all, Lord we wonder if we’re any better prepared for the next one.

So give us your wisdom, Lord,
that we can navigate these times, and our memories,
with honesty, grace, and the ability to bring change, Amen.

——– Offered by a United Reformed Church member

Hold a silence

Closing Words     based on Psalm 103

May the Holy One who heals all your iniquity bless and keep you;
the face of the Lord who heals all our afflictions
shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the light of the countenance of the Christ who redeems your life
be lifted upon you and give you peace. Amen.

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“I will, and all these things I profess and promise in the power of the Holy Spirit.”

The Revd Timothy Meadows was inducted as the Moderator of the General Assembly 2024-2025, during an act of worship at the close of the 2024 General Assembly.

Inducting Tim, the outgoing Moderator, the Revd Dr Tessa Henry-Robinson, declared: “In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and representing the General Assembly of the United Reformed Church I declare Tim to be inducted as Moderator of General Assembly. May you continue to walk in the way of Christ, following in his footsteps. ‘Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, for ever and ever.’”

“This is really something else. Recently one church person asked me if the URC could not find any British people to do the job. To which I replied, ‘whatever gave you that idea, I’m from Liverpool, can’t you tell from my accent?!

“I originally come from rural America, where Christianity was instilled in me from a very early age. I am well-appointed with the evil exacted on the queer community by society and the church, although that is not the impetus of my moderatorial year.

“The AIDS pandemic has left trauma. It wasn’t long ago, and it still exists, and I stand here on the ashes of thousands. I come with a lesson for us all. The forces of religious extremism with right wing politics is in the rise on our lands, and the global church is split. I dare say ecumenism is no longer about denominations but political affinities.

“I am so full of hope. The URC is a safe harbour in a stormy sea. It is a place of grace, and the divine, as we continue to learn to respect each other. I am so deeply grateful to you, that with God, we can face our fears and anxieties head on. As the chaplains said earlier, we have to live into hope.

“The URC is a gift to the body of Christ. Yet our work is far from finished. It was, and is, time to share our faith. Revival and resurrection is in the air. Let’s go out and share our treasure. We are diverse and we are united in being followers of Jesus Christ. Now is the time to recentre on that which we hold most dear, a Jesus-shaped church for all.”

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