Be Prepared

From Wellington Cathedral of St Paul

Be prepared: Advent 1/ 28 November 2010: am: The Very Revd Frank Nelson

• Psalm 122
• Isaiah 2: 1 - 5
• Romans 13: 11 - 14
• Matthew 24: 36 - 44

“Be prepared.”

I grew up in a scouting and guiding family. Among the earliest family stories I can recall is that of a teenage girl who, in her final years at high school, took over the running of the local Cub Pack. At the end of her first year the older boys brought her a parcel and asked her to send it off to Mowgli. As was customary in the scouting world in those days, leaders took names from Rudyard Kipling’s strange story about a boy named Mowgli, brought up among a pack of wolves. Being war time it did not surprise her that this Mowgli was their former leader, now serving in the navy. For three years she sent off an annual parcel, by which time none of the boys in the Cub Pack had actually known Mowgli. Then one day, shortly after the end of the War, she met Mowgli. In the course of time the sailor Mowgli courted and married the girl who posted off the parcels and they had children – the third of whom ended up as your Dean!

With two people dedicated to the scouting and guiding movement in my whakapapa it was probably inevitable that I should become a Cub and then a Scout. Following the motto “Be Prepared” we adopted an attitude to life that suggested we should always be ready – for anything. Over the ten years I spent in scout uniform I learned how to iron my clothes, cook a meal, read a compass, tie knots, say my prayers, look out for other people, and a host of other skills that have stood me in good stead. This old hat, now crumpled and mildewed, still has a piece of string with the slip-knot I tied to keep it on my head in the coastal wind of my home town. This shirt, (did I ever fit into it?) was bought for me when I joined others to travel all the way to Japan to attend a World Jamboree. On the front are a number of badges which have particular meaning. One shows a leaping wolf – reminding me that I had started my career as a cub at the age of eight. These three white stripes show that I rose to be troop leader; while this badge with the familiar Alpha and Omega symbol says I had at least some involvement with the church.

“Be prepared.” Without really understanding what was happening, the boys in my Cub Pack and Scout Troop (and the girls in the guiding movement) were being equipped to cope with all sorts of aspects of life - both expected and unexpected. It all happened very naturally, and while we were having fun being together. Part of life was to be equipped to deal with the crises that inevitably come to us all.

I have found myself thinking a lot about that scout training and the motto “Be Prepared” over the past week. It has been a horrible week. First the news of the blast at Pike River Mine, two people staggering out and twenty-nine missing. As you did, I watched, waited, prayed; and marveled at the cool leadership of Peter Whittall and felt for police officer Gary Knowles as he held the rescue teams back in the face of unknown but expected danger. And then the news on Wednesday afternoon of another explosion and the admission that now there could be no more hope. The tolling of a cathedral bell at the start of the mid-day news, the invitation to people to light a candle, to join us in prayer – these things seemed so little, so futile really – yet it is what we can and should do. Underlying the whole tragedy has been a quiet professionalism from all sorts of people; not only those who made the news, but others who saw a need and quietly got on with meeting it.

Last Tuesday morning, at our regular clergy Bible Study, we read today’s Gospel. “As in the days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage…” That’s exactly what the West Coasters were doing ten days ago: going about their daily business. They were, and are, no different to you and me. And then the explosion and everything changed. In one of those quite extraordinary co-incidences that often happens, the Gospel reading for Advent Sunday, speaks of a terrible calamity that will come unexpectedly – like the flood in Noah’s time. The whole of Matthew chapter 24 suggests the unexpected will strike, and that we need to be ready, prepared, even as we go about our daily life and business.

Of course, had the miners known there was going to be an explosion that day they would not have gone underground. They knew the risks; they were well paid for taking the risks. But they were not fools. As the story unfolded, the preparedness of a mine such as Pike River became evident. Each miner carried a lamp and breathing apparatus – in case of power failure. Safety chambers were built into the mine itself – in case of collapse or fire. Highly trained and skilled rescue teams are well equipped to deal with accidents. Others are there to weigh up the information and make difficult decisions which inevitably affect the lives of others.

St Paul strongly suggests a high level of preparedness in his letter to the Romans. He reminds them that the world is not static, that there is an inexorability about history: “salvation is nearer to us now than when we became believers.” Paul is quite clear on the sort of behaviour he expects from Christians. “Let us lay aside the works of darkness and put on the armour of light.” Just as someone trained to be part of an underground rescue mission will have to be superbly fit, with equipment always up to the mark, so Paul suggests a way of life for the Christian – no reveling and drunkenness, no debauchery and licentiousness, no quarrelling and jealousy; rather, honourable living, having put on the Lord Jesus Christ. Whatever else that means, it means being ready to meet God, our Maker and Redeemer, at any and all times.

This is the first great thrust of Advent – be prepared, be ready.

The second is how to make ourselves ready. Turning to Isaiah we find a vision of a new and better world offered, with people intentionally moving towards it together, seeking out the teaching of God, and genuinely willing to follow God’s ways and will. All this suggests a process, a movement, an intentionality of purpose, as we seek to prepare ourselves to meet God. Today’s Old Testament reading ends with a plea to the house of Jacob, the people of God, to walk in the light of the Lord. What we didn’t read is the next few verses which state that this plea is made because the people have stopped walking in the light of the Lord! Advent Sunday, with its cry to wake up, to become aware of who and what and where we are, suggests that this preparation does not happen overnight. Rather, like those highly skilled mine rescue teams, or the Scout adding to his life-skills, it is a long slow process – something that is, in fact, life-long.

The message of Isaiah, that of Paul to the Romans, and that of Jesus in the Gospels, is about the Kingdom of God – something we pray for every time we utter the words of the Lord’s Prayer. But it is not a kingdom in some dim and distant future – it is a kingdom that is worth working for here and now. It takes energy and effort, learning and application. At least part of it is found in the regular worship of God, where we hear the teaching of the Gospel, tease out the implications for our daily lives, and reach out to those around us in whatever form or shape their need. Right now our hearts hold the West Coast communities in prayer, even as we continue to pray for others – the people of Canterbury still recovering from the earthquakes and aftershocks, the cyclists killed on our roads, the hundreds who died in Cambodia last week, the tension between North and South Korea. All these we pray for – and our own.

Being prepared is a life-long undertaking. We are always prepared, and we are never sufficiently prepared. No wonder we pray, as we did in this morning’s Collect, “renew us in faith and hope that we may welcome Christ to rule our thoughts and claim our love.”