I am a fan of the actor Robin Williams, or more to the point of his films. They tend to be so rich and well acted. One of my favourites is The Fisher King. It is a brilliant film about a shock jock DJ, called Jack Lucas, whose hate-filled comments about yuppies are taken seriously by a caller to his late night show. The man takes a loaded shotgun into a bar and at random guns down 7 people before turning the gun on himself.

Three years later Jack Lucas, looking at the world through the bottom of an empty bottle, bumps into someone who calls himself the Janitor of God. Robin Williams’ character lives in the boiler room of his old apartment block. He used to be a professor of medieval history, but rather lost it after his wife was one of the victims of that bar shooting. The film then follows the bizarre twists and turns of their encounter, including a quest for the Holy Grail triggered by a picture in a magazine. It is a delusion, of course, but as we follow their exploits we are left wondering at times just who has lost their grip on reality; the traumatised widower living in a boiler room or the rest of us pursuing different delusions?

In the middle, while the two men are lying on their backs cloud busting, as they call it, in the middle of New York’s Central Park, we are told the story of The Fisher King. There was a king, who as a boy is sent into the forest at night to prove he is worthy of being king. He has a vision of the sacred grail, the chalice used by Our Lord at the Last Supper. Blinded by this as a vision of power and control he reaches into the fire to grab the grail for himself. As he does so the grail vanishes and he is burnt by the flames. He grows older and his distorted vision begins to poison him and in despair he begins to die.

A fool wanders into his castle and sees the king. Being a fool he just sees a man alone. “What ails you friend” he asks and the king says he is thirsty and needs water to cool his throat. The fool takes a cup and pours some water. As the king drinks he finds his wounds healed and looking down at the cup sees the very thing he has desired for so long, the grail in his hands. He asks the fool, “how could you find what my bravest could not?” “I don’t know”, replies the fool, “I just knew you were thirsty and gave you a drink.”

It is a powerful story that challenges all our ideas of the sacred and how we are to treasure it. It takes us to the heart not only of the Eucharist which we celebrate this evening, but also of what it means to celebrate a patronal festival, what it means to be a church.

In our gospel reading (Matt 20:20-28) James and John ask for top jobs in Jesus’ new world order. To the victor the spoils and generals have over the centuries been rewarded in the carve up that comes following liberation or conquest. They want to be Jesus’ closest advisors and are assuming that he is going to throw out the Romans violently and establish a new age in Israel’s fortunes. What they want is to be his numbers two and three in the pecking order when the spoils are carved up.

Jesus’ reply talks about drinking from cups and we may be familiar with its double imagery of the Eucharist and the Passion. In his agony in the garden before he is arrested, Jesus prays for the cup to be taken away from him, followed by ‘Not my will but your will be done’. So, his question, ‘can you drink of the same cup that I drink’ asks if they can face the same passion, the death, the self-sacrificial loving? For James that does indeed become his privilege as our first reading told us (Acts 11:27-12:2). He was beheaded with a sword.

But what has this got to do with a fool, a king and a search for the holy grail? Indeed what has it got to do with a patronal festival? The clue comes at the end of our gospel reading. Jesus reminds us that the way of his revolution is service and not domination (v25-28). The fool finds the grail because what he is looking for is how to meet the king’s need. He is thirsty and looks to quench that thirst. The king can’t find it because he is looking for power and self promotion, and gets his fingers literally burnt in the process. Our resources, our treasures, our holiness all lose their shine if we try to keep them for ourselves. We will not find the holy grail if all we want to do is possess it. We will find it though if we want to live it and living it means living the way of sacrificial love.

Every time we feed the hungry, comfort the sorrowful, share our spiritual food with those who hunger for righteousness, we find the holy grail. It can look very odd, not at all like the golden chalices encrusted with jewels, which is how it has been depicted for centuries. It might come in the form of a polystyrene cup we hand to someone in need on a cold day. It may come in the form of listening beyond the words and aggression to the pain that lies behind. It comes in whatever form seeing someone who is thirsty and giving them a drink takes. We find it because we are not looking for it, but living it.

Churches are the same. We become a holy people, a royal priesthood, when we live the good news we have received. When we stand still feeling special and even locked in comfortable huddles that are designed to make us feel holy we will find that the very thing we look for eludes us. It evades our grasp, as the grail in the fire, because we are out for the wrong things. It is not we who are to possess the holy, but the holy that is to possess us. Then we are invited to share the same cup, the cup of self-sacrificial love.

This can be risky. But, as the leader article in one of the papers said yesterday, “The avoidance of risk is a way to manage decline rather than to inspire revival...” (The Times 24th July 2002). This was of course talking about the new Archbishop of Canterbury. Rowan Williams has a sharp brain and has shown that he can use it to challenge and make us think deeper about an issue. Riskiness being the way to inspire revival can then be a call to live the way of self-sacrificial love, to dare to follow in the way of Jesus Christ.

This all rather changes the way we celebrate the Eucharist, or at least opens up a deeper level to ‘drinking of the cup that I drink’. We are the thirsty king and long for the grail to heal our wounds and quench our thirst. When we want to possess it and are seduced by delusions of power, we find it elusive. When we are touched by self-sacrificial loving we find the cup of salvation. We can also be the fool who just sees a thirsty man and gives a drink and in so doing becomes an instrument of God’s healing grace. It is a well worn phrase now that as a church we are shaped by the Eucharist we celebrate. Looking at this through the eyes of The Fisher King is an interesting shape to take on.

Holiness is not something to grasp, like a delusion in a fire. It is something to live and offer out of nothing less than self-sacrificial love. That is after all how we have received it ourselves.

A patronal festival invites us to examine our title deeds. The title deeds of all churches are written in the self giving love of God in Christ Jesus. We honour and celebrate that when we try to imitate it and live it.

© Ian Black 2002

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