I was challenged first of all to think seriously about what mission actually means, then about what it involves, and finally, inescapably, what it requires of me. Today being the Feast of the Epiphany we were bound to begin with Matthew's story of wise men following a star, and searching for the One that star in its appearing foretold. To do mission is not about ramming down people's throats something they don't want, haven't asked for, and won't understand - though plenty enough of that sort of mission goes on, I suppose, counter-productive though it is bound to be. A genuinely Christ-like mission is surely about meeting people who are searching, sharing the insights we have, and showing the way or at least sharing the journey. Such mission begins with listening.
It begins with listening to the questions people actually ask; as Bishop Alistair reminded us, chiefly the 'why' questions that remain unanswered by technology and science. The best response technology and science can manage is 'Why not?' But people are continuing to ask those 'why' questions, including the big one, 'Why am I here?' - despite the best persistence of the militant atheists whose claim is that there is no valid 'why' question, that we just are, and that's all that can be said.
I am sure they are wrong in that assertion. Not that I have any pat or pedantic answer to the 'why' questions folk ask. I don't have any inside track on God, any special knowledge of his plans. When I read the Scriptures, and when I listen to stories of faith, certainly I find pointers and directions, but I don't find all my questions answered. So I keep asking them. But I do find much to convince me that the 'why' question is valid, and that the very fact that I can ask it, and that it feels important, is a pointer to God - just as the fact that I have a concept of what is good and what is bad, what is right and what is wrong, of beauty and ugliness, encourages me to take a Godward direction in life.
There is a variety of mission that aims to scare people into faith - 'If you don't sign up you're going to hell', that sort of thing. I get as cross about that as do the Dawkinsites of this world. The fire and brimstone style of mission for me pretends to a knowledge we don't have, to a certainty that cannot be other than bigoted, and to a God, or an image of God, that doesn't fit with the little lad sought by those wise men all that time ago, born as he was not in a palace but a stable. I believe in a God who inspires questions as much as he provides answers, but whose nature is love and who draws us to make love the heart of our lives.
I think what I am saying here is that for me the answer to the search I make is to be found (in part at least) within the search itself. That's a theme I discern in much religious poetry, but especially perhaps in T.S. Eliot, in his poem 'The Magi', and in the 'Four Quartets', for example. Faith means living with questions, 'seeing through a glass darkly', to quote the apostle Paul, but learning to trust nonetheless. The questions we ask do not go unanswered, but they will not be fully answered in this life. There is always more to ask, and more to search for. Bishop Alistair quoted C.S. Lewis, who said something like, 'There is no proof there is a proof.' There will be times along the way when hope is all we have.
So for me mission has to begin with my own continuing search, and with my readiness as a searcher to honour the searchings and strivings of others, and to take their questions seriously. I do not propose to spend any of my time this year trying to lecture others into orthodox belief; but I hope I'll be able to accompany those who like me are searching, perhaps helping them to see the star, and to trace the path on which it may lead us.
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