This morning we gather for prayer on the third day of the Church Times Festival of Faith and Literature.

We come together to celebrate the gifts of the written word, and to reflect on the ways in which our faith is intertwined with the stories that we tell.

And how, at the heart of all these stories, we find a single, unifying thread:

the great narrative of God’s love for creation,

and the ways in which he continues to write that story in our lives.

In the first lesson we heard of God described as a potter, shaping and moulding the clay of his creation into vessels of his own design.

It is a powerful image of the creative force that lies at the heart of God’s character.

God is not a distant and passive observer of the world;

he is an active participant in its ongoing story.

And just as a potter puts his own skill and creativity

into each vessel that he makes, to create, to craft, the chastise and to caress

so too does God invest himself in the shaping of each and every one of us.

 

This same theme of God’s creative power is one that runs through much of the literature that we hold dear. Take, for instance, the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, who saw in the same act of creation a reflection of God’s creative nature.

In “The Silmarillion”, Tolkien depicts the creation of the world

as a grand symphony, with God as the composer

and all of creation as the instruments through which his music is played.

It is another beautiful image of the way in which God’s creativity infuses every aspect of the world around us.

One of my favourite writers, Flannery O’Connor, saw in the stories that we tell

a way of revealing this divine creativity at work in the world around us.

 

In her short story “Revelation”, she depicts a woman who,

through a sudden and unexpected moment of grace,

is able to see the beauty and goodness in the people around her,

even those whom she had previously judged and condemned.

 

An insight that reflects that made by the Gospeller in the second lesson

that God’s Word may be made manifest even in the most unlikely of places.

 

And a reflection that not   all of the stories that we tell are full of grace and beauty.  In that second lesson, we also heard of God’s willingness to accept even our smallest and meanest words if they are sincerely offered.

Our lives are not always full of grand moments of heroism or great acts of love and often it is in the small and ordinary moments that we are called to live out our faith.

In those moments, it can be easy to feel as though our words and actions are insignificant or unworthy of notice. But God is always at work in the little sentences and paragraphs of our lives.

The great Anglican divine Lancelot Andrews, bishop of Winchester,  once wrote that “God is the great librarian of the world, writing down all that we do, and all that we say, and all that we think.”

And it is true: our lives- in every aspect- are part of a grand narrative that stretches back to the very beginning of time, and that will continue on long after we are gone.

One in which we are not just passive characters;

But in which we are active participants, co-creators with God

in the ongoing work of redemption and renewal.

 

So, friends as we celebrate great works in this festival of faith and literature,

let us also remember that all our stories are part of God’s story.

And every jot and tittle of our worship

is valued by God, moulded and made by Him,

and will be woven into the great final Chapter of His New Creation.

 

Amen

 

 

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Now let me tell you something that may surprise you!

That brief homily, which I’ve just read word for word was written by robot.