When Jesus Came To Hanger Lane

It was a a long journey from Lindisfarne to London, but I wanted to support our Deputy Guardian Simon Reed and his fellow church members as they celebrated their seventieth anniversary in a Saturday ceilidh and a Sunday service with the Mayor of Ealing. There are creative links, as these extracts from my address reveal - and its a long time since I*'ve been applauded at the end of a church sermon!

Congratulations! Seventy years is a significant number in the Bible. For a person, it means that we've done things, we've survived, and from now on life is a bonus, a gift. We are free to do what God puts into our hearts. We can shine. I think it can be like that for a faith community like you, too.

Jesus says that a community that is built on a hill cannot hide - so let its light shine. You are a community of a hill. I learned, as I read the history of Hanger Lane by Norman Pointing that its name comes from the Saxon hangre - wood hill. You still have some trees on the hill - I walked among them this morning - even though mostly now it is people.

It was on a hill far away that Jesus was nailed to a tree. That Tree of Death became the Everlasting Tree of Life. You have witnessed the death of innumerable trees and people, of projects, hopes and organisations over these seventy years. This place has known the passing of the Saxon Age and of the Norman Age, the death of the countryside and horses as they were replaced by roads, rail lines, canals and houses, the deaths of The Garden Estate and Haymills Estate and of World War 11, of the 200 plus Sunday School of the 1940's as commuters with little church connection took their place. You have seen these deaths, but always you have believed that the Tree of Death can become the Tree of Life: the new mobility enabled people who don't live in the parish to be drawn to the life of the church.

I assume that when Rev. Francis Hall arrived in 1938 and the church was dedicated in 1939, with Sylvia present, that it was then given its name of The Ascension, the Ascension of Jesus being, of course, on a hill. It is interesting to note that in Luke 24:50 the hill that Jesus took his disciples to was on the outskirts of a village - Bethany. Did he choose Bethany because there he had been made so welcome, as in the house of Mary and Martha and Lazarus? Did he choose Bethany because there were the likes of Mary, who shone as a contemplative, of Martha, who shone in practical good works, and Lazarus, who listened to Jesus' voice in the deep place of unconsciousness and so was raised to life? Was that the same hill where Jesus wept over the city, longing to gather its people to him as a hen gathers her chicks? And are those the same three shining qualities that Jesus looks for in his children who have gathered to him in the Church of the Ascension today - contemplative prayer, practical good works, and the deep listening that brings forth life?

Contemplative Prayer To practice, each day, awareness of the Divine Presence in oneself, in the leaves of the roadside tree, in the reading of a book, in the listening to music. 'The real voyage of discovery', wrote Marcel Proust, 'consists not in seeking new lands, but in seeing with new eyes.' I asked Justin what he thought was a distinctive characteristic of local people. 'We are urbane', he suggested. Those who take time to contemplate can be channels of calm amid stressed people.

Practical good works Ephesians 2 suggests that we are 'created for good works which God has prepared beforehand to be our way of life.' To what way of life are you called? The Diocese has a Mission Action Planning Process: a church that lives Christ's way of life is the best process of all. To what good works are you called? You are part of the Borough of Ealing, and the mayor's presence today honours this relationship. Ealing got its name from the Saxons: Gilling (people of Gill's tribe) changing to Yealing and Ealing over the centuries. The Saxons began as hooligans. They were civilised by Christianity, in part spreading from the Irish Mission base at Lindisfarne, which taught them to feed the poor, free the slaves, educate the ignorant, tune in to the Source of all good - God as revealed in Jesus Christ, and to undergird their common life in a rhythm of prayer and praise. Those Saxons learned to cherish creation as God's precious gift. Today Ealing is known as a Garden of London, and I salute the Borough for its Green agenda, and this church for being an eco-congregation. Build on this in the future. The Saxons were inspired by the Irish who evangelised through wandering minstrels and whose churches had rotas of bands who offered frequent praise. Your worship band was much appreciated at our Community of Aidan and Hilda week-end near Stratford Upon Avon. Maybe in the future you will have buskers, minstrels, teenage bands and bands of all sorts inspiring pubs, clubs, public spaces and drawing people here. Through that early Irish Mission hostile peoples of different race and language became one fellowship in the Gospel. When I was a curate in a multi-racial part of South London our vision was to build the peace of the world in the streets of London. You already have a fellowship of people from varied ethnic backgrounds. Perhaps in the future this will embrace Arabs, Chinese and Eastern Europeans, too? The Irish churches moved with the people - they were flexible. We are in an age of networking which calls for varied expressions of church. Perhaps over the coming years you will have networks of Christians all over the place, and this building will be a resource centre, not a substitute, for these? All this needs lateral thinking; it needs us to ask 'Where is Jesus?' An example of such an approach comes from Basra, in Iraq, where a Christian knocked on the imam's door at a mosque and asked 'Is Jesus here?' 'Why don't you look in a church?' asked the surprised imam. 'Because in our Gospels we learn that Jesus could not be found in the places where he was supposed to be, but in unlikely places' the Christian explained. So they looked for Jesus together.

Deep Listening that brings forth life. I am told that someone had a prophetic gleam that you are to be like a generating station. This speaks to me of the 24/7 prayer movement and boiler rooms. Young people maintained prayer by rota for 24 hours each day for seven days and this was such a powerful experience that they sought a way to sustain an experience that motivated them and inspired them. In certain places they have secured a building where a rota of people keep prayer alive each day and where drained people are re-energised. Such places combine the prayer and the outreach, the input and the output. They kindle the flame so that they can pass on the flame. Perhaps some of you will engage in some deep listening about this?

Conclusion When I was asked to come today the words of a poem by the war time padre G.A. Studdert Kennedy came into my mind, entitled 'When Jesus came to Birmingham':

When Jesus came to Golgotha, they hanged him on a tree They drove great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary. They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were his wounds and deep; For those were crude and cruel days, and human flesh was cheap.

When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by; They would not hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die. For men had grown more tender, and they would not give him pain. They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain...'

Although I am no poet, I thought, 'Why don't I try to write a poem about When Jesus came to Hanger Hill - for if I can dare attempt this, anyone can, and perhaps some at Ascension will have a go. So here goes:

When Jesus came to Hanger Hill a tree or two still grew And Jesus spoke as from the tree of what he'd seen and knew: 'I knew the earth, the trees, the birds before the humans came. I knew the humans' every thought, their glories and their shame.

When that big house was built on top of Hanger Hill I noticed the shenanigans, each room, each window sill. I saw the hardship down below, the labour and the sweat And I longed to lift the people up and take them to my heart. I was there when roads and railways brought people here in swarms. I stood astride the giratory and stretched out my welcoming arms. I wept with you in trials, in waywardness and war. I leapt with joy when this place of prayer first opened wide its door. And now I come afresh to you, my Ascension community. I say "Explore and pray and learn: lift the people up to me". My children come to me today, that through you I may shine. Come as you are, in simplicity, and let this land be mine.