A Sermon preached at the Parish Church of St Mary the Virgin, Primrose Hill by the Reverend Robert Atwell, on Sunday 28 October 2007

Feast of SS Simon & Jude

Ann Morisy in her book, Journeying Together, tells a wonderful story about a Mothers' Union meeting in a village in Kent. At this particular meeting were three guest speakers, all of whom were Mothers' Union workers in Zimbabwe. They spoke of how important hand sewing-machines were to the villages in Zimbabwe because there was no electricity, and the women needed them to make clothes for their children.

The word went round the village, and soon there were eight old Singer sewing machines retrieved from people's lofts and cellars and garages. However, an unexpected problem emerged. The Zimbabwean women advised them that the only way these could reliably reach the villages would be if they were delivered personally. Otherwise they would get stuck in customs until someone was willing to pay bribes to release them.

The British women, all aged over 60 I might add, were faced with a challenge. Would they organize a few jumble sales to pay the shipping costs only to have the machines moulder in a customs yard in Harare? Or would they go themselves to Zimbabwe, and personally take the sewing machines to the villages? Would they choose venturesome love or give in to fear?

In the end they chose to go to Zimbabwe themselves, and in so doing unleashed a cascade of grace which affected so many people for good. Their local newspaper followed the women's story at every stage. The message in the press about the local church was invariably negative and often cynical. Suddenly they were front-page news: here were Christians trying to make a difference in the world. ‘Watch out! Grannies are about!' was the headline. 

But if the press approved, not all the women's families did. Should mother go? Wasn't it dangerous? And anyway, what about her bad back? The grandchildren, on the other hand, turned out to be more supportive of their grandmothers than were their parents: suddenly grannie was ‘cool'.

And there were knock-on effects in the village. People started to turn up at church to pray for the women's safety. People actually became quite passionate about praying for justice in Zimbabwe, and there was a growing understanding of the crisis in that country and of world development issues in general. 

As for the eight women themselves, they were transformed by the experience. They were both radicalized and softened by their journey to Africa. In turn, their own families have changed and had their eyes opened. It has also had an unexpected long-term result for their village in Kent. The Parish Council opted to twin not with a village in the EC, but with one in Zimbabwe!

Now why do I tell you this story on the Feast of the Apostles Simon & Jude? For two reasons: one in relation to St Simon and the other in relation to St Jude. 

In the Gospels, Simon is called ‘the Zealot', in part to distinguish him from Simon Peter. The Zealots were a nationalist resistance movement who opposed the Roman occupation forces. In the eyes of the Romans they were terrorists. In the eyes of the Jews they were freedom-fighters. We don't know whether Simon moved from the Zealot party to be a follower of Jesus; or whether it was the other way round, and after the resurrection, he became a supporter of that group as a response to God's call to proclaim the kingdom.

Whatever the case, Simon's life witnesses to the truth, which the Mothers Union in Kent also saw, that the gospel has political consequences. Christianity is not about personal enlightenment or a quest for self-realisation. It is not about my private relationship with God to the exclusion of all else and everyone else. Certainly, if we have no personal relationship with Christ then our faith will be hollow, but that relationship should turn us outwards to look at the world with fresh eyes, the world he came to serve and to save. 

As Mark said a few weeks ago at the end of the Eucharist, in one of the best ecclesiastical faux pas I've heard, ‘Go in peace and save the world.'

Like many of the apostles, Simon the Zealot disappears from view after Pentecost. Tradition has it that he travelled first to Egypt, and then joined Jude who had been in Mesopotamia, and together they evangelised Persia - modern-day Iran - where they were both martyred. That's why the church links them together and commemorates them on the same day. 

As we reflect on their life and witness, the question for us is whether we have any fire in our belly? Or are we like the Laodiceans in the Book of Revelation, whom God spits out of his mouth because they are lukewarm.

So much for Simon the Zealot. What about Jude? 

St Luke describes Jude as the son of James. It seems he is the same person as Thaddeus, which was probably his surname. When he pops up in the Gospels he is invariably referred to as ‘Judas - not Iscariot' and for the same reason his letter in the New Testament is listed as by Jude rather than Judas to distinguish him from his namesake.

Because of the similarity of his name with the traitor Judas, Jude was rarely invoked in prayer and it seems likely that because of this, interceding through him was deemed a last resort. Thus Jude became known as the patron saint of ‘lost causes'. 

So who knows, perhaps we have to thank St Jude for encouraging those brave women in Zimbabwe to travel in search of sewing machines. Their grit and determination, their refusal to be victims of injustice and corruption is fantastic. Beside them my own commitment to Christ feels decidedly flabby.

But St Jude and those women have a further thing in common: faith in the ultimate victory of good. With God there are no losers. I am reminded of those powerful words of St Paul in chapter 8 of his Letter to the Romans:

‘We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, and who are called according to his purpose. If God is for us, who is against us? In all things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.'  (Romans 8. 28, 31, 37)

And that is what is at the heart of what we celebrate today: the victory of faith.