Human Rights and St. Paul: 4th before Lent: Isaiah 40.21-31; 1 Corinthians 9.16-23; Mark 1.29-39 – 05.02.06: Revd Dr. Alan Winton: St Michael's Woolmer Green and All Saints, Datchworth

Synchronicity is the word I think I need today. It describes those occasions when several things come together and all connect up. Earlier this week I finally got hold of a copy of a book a friend of mine has just written: not exactly a racy page turner for the airport shop, you’ll probably agree. It’s actually a study of the involvement of the churches in the 1940s in the development of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. I don’t know how that sounds to you, but it looks to me like a fascinating exploration of an important piece of modern history, with a few lessons to teach the church today, and I look forward to reading it. My interest comes partly because about 17 or 18 years ago I spent many lunches and coffee breaks talking to the author about his big project, so it’s wonderful to see it finally come to fruition.

Then of course the news this week has been dominated by talk of rights in various guises and situations.  There was the vote in the House of Commons over the religious hatred bill. I don’t quite follow all the subtleties of the argument here, but I found it somewhat bizarre listening to Rowan Atkinson on the radio the other morning speaking about the comedian’s right to insult other people’s religion. I can understand a right to hold different views, and even to argue against the teachings of a religion should they appear cruel or dangerously misguided, but I find the concept of a right to insult a little depressing. Not quite on a par for me with the campaign to end slavery, to win the vote for women or the civil rights struggle for black Americans.

The vote in the House of Commons earlier this week had its comical moments, with the Prime Minister being sent home by the chief whip, only to find that the division was lost by one vote.

The news then took a turn for the worse with a jury struggling to know what to do about the charges brought against the leader of the BNP: some of the comments made by Nick Griffin on the BBC's undercover investigation were frightening and really push the boundaries of what is defensible under the banner of the right to free speech, and it seems like another trial awaits him.

And then there is the furore caused by the decision of, first a Danish, and then other newspapers to publish some pretty crass cartoons which have provoked huge anger and ill-feeling among Muslims throughout the world. To show an image of Mohammad is bound to cause offence, and the implications of this act of defiance will rumble on for many months. In some quarters, the response has been as extreme as the original offence.

In all of this, I’m struck by the way that the mature argument to defend freedom of speech seems to be followed by a rather sad and puerile insistence on pushing that right to the extreme in order to insult and anger people of religious faith or of different ethnic origin, sometimes seemingly just for the sake of a laugh. The commitment to human rights and the cementing of them in a Universal Declaration represent a great achievement on the global stage, with many hard fought freedoms that are worth fighting for. Freedom of speech in a democracy is worth defending: what is sad is the way that people feel obliged to claim the right to insult or ridicule someone else’s beliefs. Sometimes we are given rights but the last thing we should or need to do is exercise them.

Strangely, and continuing the thought of synchronicity, this seems to be the gist of St. Paul’s argument in the passage from Corinthians that is set for us today. The setting is rather different: it is not a matter of human rights as we understand them today, but is about Paul’s understanding of the gospel. Paul knows himself to be a free man because of the freedom Christ has won for him on the cross, but he is prepared to forego that freedom and to make himself a slave for the sake of others and for the sake of the gospel.

When he is among Jews, Paul foregoes the freedom that is his in order not to offend their sensibilities, in order to have the best chance of speaking to them about the gospel of Christ. Although he knows himself to be free from the constraints of the law – the law of circumcision, the law that governs what he can eat and with whom he can eat, the law that requires him to be ritually clean and pure – although he is free from all these laws because of Christ, yet he is prepared to be bound by them in order not to offend.

And yet when he is among the Gentiles, those who have never kept such laws, Paul is happy to disregard those customs that he grew up with as a child and as a young man. And when he is with people who are weak and easily offended, Paul moderates his behaviour accordingly. Wherever he is and whoever’s company he keeps, Paul follows their customs and refuses to act in a way that would cause offence.

To put this passage into the language of the twenty-first century, Paul knows that he has certain rights, but he recognises that rights are not always there to be asserted, when to do so would cause unnecessary offence, when to do so would alienate someone with whom he really wants to talk and spend time for the sake of the gospel.  There are many situations where we have rights, and we have a certain amount of power – what Paul would teach us is that there are times and occasions when we should not claim those rights, where we should not exercise the power we have, because we don’t wish to cause offence to another. Paul urges us to moderate our behaviour for a greater good than claiming the rights that are properly ours.

There is a message in there that our society needs to hear: to have a right doesn’t necessarily mean that we should always insist on exercising it. There might well be good moral reasons for showing some restraint. Rights are not the only aspect of morality that we should concern ourselves with. In fact, we need to acknowledge that there are often situations in which a right clashes with some other moral imperative, and it is not a simple matter to choose which path we should follow.

Aside from what St. Paul’s example may have to say to the debate going on in society today about the right to free speech, there are also lessons here for us in the church about the way that we behave with one another. There are freedoms we are given in Christ, and some of us have power because of the position we hold, the authority that is given us, or the eloquence with which we can usually get our own way. But Paul urges us to recognise that there are times when we should show restraint for the sake of a greater good. As Christians we are to called to think ourselves into the frame of mind of others, to try to see things from their point of view, to use our imagination to see how the things that we might wish to push for, could have a detrimental affect on others. We need for example to ensure that our ways of worshipping are not simply driven by what we find congenial and satisfying, but take account also of the needs of others whose voices may not be as strong as our own.

I have sometimes taken a school assembly that involves taking in a whole collection of different footwear: wellington boots, stilettos, sandals, football boots, ballet shoes, whatever is at hand. I get the children to come out and try them on and talk about the kind of people who might wear them. The point being made is expressed in the adage to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, to try to experience a little of life from their point of view, to see things through their eyes, to feel what it is like to walk the way they walk.

Paul is urging us to walk a mile in the shoes of others, and rather than always claiming the freedoms or the rights that are ours, to try to see things from their point of view, and so to modify our behaviour accordingly.  It is a message that many need to hear and act upon in a world where sensitivities and fears are running very high. And it is a message that we need to confront continually in the church, in the way we organise our life together, in the attitudes with which we treat others. Paul offers us a challenging example when he writes:

“I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, so that I may share in its blessings.”

Amen.