SERMON 13 June 2004 (St Barnabas)

 Readings:     Job 29:11-16        Psalm 98      Acts 11:22-30; 13:1-3        Matthew 10:7-13

In the name of God who calls us to serve.

 I have watched bemused over the last week as the tributes to Ronald Reagan have flowed in. The old saying ‘Never speak ill of the dead’ seems to have been ritually observed by every head of state, former or current, and many newspaper columnists. I remember Reagan’s presidency vividly and am having trouble reconciling my memories with the eulogies that are glorifying the period.

 During the late 70s and early 80s I was on posting in Sweden and Finland and watched from right next door as the USSR tottered towards an inevitable total collapse under the weight of mismanagement, corruption and self-delusion. And so it is with amazement that I hear Reagan credited with having, somehow, achieved the collapse of the Eastern bloc. Surely this was a case of being in the right place at the right time rather than strategic brilliance.

 The label of greatness has been thrust on Ronald Reagan and I wonder whether it is truly merited. Reagan aside, it seems that those whom history remembers as great are perhaps not those thought great by the people who actually knew anything much about them.

 Of course, greatness itself is a much contested notion. Much as Pontius Pilate asked, ’what is truth?’, so we too can ask, ‘what is greatness?’ The recorded history of the early church is populated by figures we think of as being great: Paul, the persecutor who turned into one of the powerful advocates for the faith; Peter, the fisherman who denied he was a follower of Jesus and then turned into one of the most passionate followers of the risen Christ. Their stories of struggle, of faith, of commitment are there for us to read in the New Testament. 

 But such high profile people do not have a monopoly on greatness. Sir Isaac Newton is credited with saying, ‘If I have done great things it is because I stand on the shoulders of those who came before me.’ The truth of Newton’s statement rings down the centuries. The old cliché – behind every great man there is a great woman expresses a similar sentiment. Mind you, I have also heard this as ‘behind every great man there is a very surprised woman’.

 Those who do great things do not do them in isolation. Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay relied on a strong, committed team when they conquered Everest; Leonardo da Vinci was supported by people who believed in his genius; Kay Cottee’s solo yacht trip around the world depended on those who had built the boat and those who maintained communication with her; Martin Luther’s theological work which transformed the face of the western church in the 1500s built on the work of many other thinkers before him; and so the list goes on. Great things do not just happen because of one person – they are enabled by many.

 Today we are celebrating the feast of one of the enablers of greatness. Barnabas is remembered in the Christian calendar because of his goodness, his faith and his encouragement of others. Indeed, the name Barnabas, given to him by the apostles, means ‘son of encouragement’. (Acts 4:36)

 It was Barnabas who persuaded a very sceptical group of disciples to listen to Paul. Imagine what it was like: Saul, the arch-persecutor of the Christians, turns up one day and says: ’I’ve changed my mind! You were right! I am a true believer! By the way, please call me Paul.’ How many of us would have said ‘that’s wonderful – come right in’? And how many would have said, ‘It’s a trick, he is just trying to infiltrate the group so that he can destroy us from the inside’? Into this tense situation came Barnabas who took Paul under his wing, talked to the others about Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus, and vouched for him. (Acts 9:27)

And later it was Barnabas who wanted to give John Mark another chance, in the face of Paul’s opposition. Paul, Barnabas and John Mark had been travelling together when John Mark decided to leave them. When he later wanted to rejoin them, Paul refused. But Barnabas argued with Paul and took John Mark in again, even though it led to a split from Paul. (Acts 15: 36-39)  

Forgiveness and second chances seem to have been Barnabas’ specialty. His preaching and teaching was not remembered; perhaps he did not do any of those things, but the sheer goodness of his presence was.

 A celebration of Barnabas seems to me to be a celebration of the unspectacular, of the people whose work is absolutely pivotal to any enterprise even though they are not centre stage. Barnabas accompanied Paul on many journeys, supporting him and encouraging the young church communities in their faith. He doesn’t seem to have been the one in the limelight – that seems to have been Paul’s place, but he was nonetheless a crucial part of the picture.

 There are plenty of analogies we can draw from our own lives. If we look at a theatre production, we see the actors, but they would have nothing to say if it were not for the person who wrote the play; nothing to wear but for the costume designers and makers, no props but for the stage designers, no makeup but for the makeup artists … and so it goes on.

 Our Sunday worship unrolls each week with me or another priest here, the sanctuary party, the musicians, the readers and the intercessors – but it also depends on the people who clean the church, arrange the flowers, polish the brass, organise the rosters, make sure there is bread and wine, hand out the books… and so it goes on.

 There is a reminder here of the sacredness of the everyday, of the holiness of the ordinary. We tend to admire people and things that we see as being extraordinary – just look at how we idolise sports stars for their body-bending achievements. But God is present in the small things of everyday. God meets us in the simple bread and wine of the eucharist – not in a sumptuous great feast. Jesus healed people with a few words, or with dust and spittle, or with a touch – not with elaborate ceremony.

 We might not all have the intellect or the rhetorical skills of Paul, but Paul’s amazing contribution to the infant church might never have happened if Barnabas had not spoken up for him. John Mark might never have gone on to found the communities which later gave us the Gospel of John, if Barnabas had not welcomed him back and travelled with him. Barnabas’ godly contributions of forgiveness, goodness, faith and encouragement were apparently unspectacular in themselves but were crucial to the life of the early church.

 This is good news for us. Most of us will not occupy really prominent positions or have very public ministries within the life of our faith communities. But our ministry in the life of the church, whatever it is, is of inestimable importance to the community as a whole. Paul’s image of the body of Christ is a helpful one here – wherever we fit, we are part of the whole and of great value to the whole.

 And so let us celebrate Barnabas today – celebrate his sheer goodness, his faith and his encouragement of others, and let us draw from his example to be a community of encouragement to each other and to the wider community within which we find ourselves.

 Sarah Macneil