Accomplices

Accomplices

Matthew 2:13-23

The Escape to Egypt

Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother by night, and went to Egypt, and remained there until the death of Herod. This was to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet, “Out of Egypt I have called my son.”

The Massacre of the Infants

When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the wise men. Then was fulfilled what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah:

“A voice was heard in Ramah,

wailing and loud lamentation,

Rachel weeping for her children;

she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.”

The Return from Egypt

When Herod died, an angel of the Lord suddenly appeared in a dream to Joseph in Egypt and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and go to the land of Israel, for those who were seeking the child’s life are dead.” Then Joseph got up, took the child and his mother, and went to the land of Israel. But when he heard that Archelaus was ruling over Judea in place of his father Herod, he was afraid to go there. And after being warned in a dream, he went away to the district of Galilee. There he made his home in a town called Nazareth, so that what had been spoken through the prophets might be fulfilled, “He will be called a Nazorean.”

Our gospel today makes for some very dark reading. A reading that, often, I’ll avoid at this time of year. This is Christmas. And, in the midst of the Christmas season, who wants to hear about or reflect on The Massacre of the Innocents? Wouldn’t we all much rather have a nice carol sing and reflect on some of the cheerier Christmas gospels?

And, to be honest, as a parish minister, for years, by the time this Sunday came around, after all the extra Christmas services, I was too exhausted to do justice to such a text, so I simply avoided it and kept the focus on stars and wise ‘men’, and anything else that avoided the brutality and the darkness that is also inherent in the Christmas season - whether we choose to overlook it or not.

This year, it rings too close to home to ignore.

And, because it echoes so closely much of what is going on in our contemporary world, there has also been a lot of splitting hairs over this text recently, with people arguing over whether the Holy Family were refugees as they fled Egypt or whether the massacre of the innocents really did happen.

The refugee status question arises as people argue over whether Mary and Joseph could be considered Refugees when, actually, their heritage was in Bethlehem, that’s why they travelled - and the occupying Roman forces kept open borders allowing folk to move from one territory to another.

Both situations which apparently would disqualify them from refugee status,

However, a young couple with a new baby who were too frightened to go home?

Surely they are Refugees by any reckoning.

And the doubts raised over the reality of the massacre arises because it was not historically recorded although the decree itself is recorded. But, today we know only too well how news of genocide, infanticide and all manner of atrocities can be suppressed - or, shockingly, not even considered news worthy in the midst of so much other chaos and carnage.

And, even if he didn’t follow through, Herod’s threat would be enough to strike terror into all those in his jurisdiction. The Holy Family’s fear was all too real.

And they were forced to flee and wait it out until it was deemed safe to return.

Reliant on the kindness of strangers.

Keeping a low profile.

A predicament that mirrors all too well the darkness in which people are forced to live today.

Being moved from pillar to post.

Relying on others for everything.

Constantly living in fear.

It was to a world just like today’s world that God chose to be born in love.

And the pace of the last week in church where we move from singing about angels and shepherds and peace and joy to the devastating slaughter and fear of today’s gospel speaks of the unpredictability of that cruel regime into which Christ was born.

The story moves quickly from the joyful scenes around the manger to the terrified cries of mothers mourning their children.

No wonder we’d rather linger with the baby in the manger.

But it’s precisely because God sent love into the world, that we cannot stay by the manger.

That love has been entrusted to us to spread throughout the world.

Our world is full of leaders who will do everything they can to hang on to power.

We see it day in day out, both here and abroad - leaders prepared to cheat, to lie, to ridicule others - all so that they can remain in power.

Leaders prepared to reward the rich who will further their cause while keeping the poor so impoverished that they have nothing left to fight with.

Leaders who will, without a second thought, quash any who threaten their power.

We see those who flee their homes, not because they want to but because their lives are in danger - we see those people ignored, threatened and treated appallingly. Many don’t survive the journeys they are forced to undertake and those who do are treated cruelly wherever they try to settle.

Still today, children are being killed by the decrees of those in authority.

The church is called to be counter cultural in all of this.

Called to resist the notion that there is a scarcity of resources to sustain one another.

Called to resist the fear that, by sharing, we will lose out.

Called to resist governments and oppressive regimes wherever they exert unjust power.

Called to ensure that love, love that takes risks, love that is messy, love that is hard, is born wherever we serve.

Love was born to break through the harshness of our world.

And we are called to keep on breaking through, to make a difference for every child of God.

A reflection:

We think of the Angels singing:"Peace on earth"

We imagine the shepherds hurrying to Bethlehem

We romanticise the notion of the stable 

complete with a little donkey

and other assorted animals keeping the baby warm.

In our mind's eye is a blissful mother

and a bursting with pride father.

We conveniently overlook the fear

and the poverty

the political unrest

the brutality of occupying forces

and the desperation of folk in that time.

And we try to do the same today.

To make Christmas idyllic

a time of indulgence and goodwill.

A season to deny reality -

be it the harsh reality of today

or of that first Christmas world.

And even when we are confronted daily

by inescapable inhumanity:

The murder of children

The abuse of power 

The sleaze of politics

The race to consume

Still we hope and pray for a different world.

But the Advent of hope, love, peace and joy

of which we speak and sing and for which we pray

demands that we get real

that we open our eyes

that we are affected

and that we move to change a world

where weapons are more valued than health care

and where oil revenue is so tightly held

that none can be spared to provide clean water for all.

Where food mountains and arms dumps grow

while people starve and are moved from their lands.

Those who sought the child's life

are still to the fore

and we have become accomplices.

We are called to be accomplices today.

Accomplices, not of those who hold on to and abuse power.

But accomplices of God who breaks into our world with love.

May it be so.

Showing up

Luke 23:33-43

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. [[ Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”]] And they cast lots to divide his clothing. And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah of God, his chosen one!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”

One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.

When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left.

On this last Sunday of the Liturgical year, just before we head on into Advent, we consider Jesus as king, or the Reign of Christ.

Before we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus, we consider his death.

And so our gospel reading this morning is part of the crucifixion story.

And, perhaps, in this small part of the story that we read this morning, we get a snapshot of the kind of king Jesus was, and a glimpse into the Christ who reigns today.

And, by considering his death, we might be better prepared to welcome his birth.

As Luke tells it, Jesus is led out to the site of the crucifixion and crucified with two other criminals.

Such execution was not done quietly or privately but in company, in full view of others, with as much shame and scandal, as much public outrage and mockery as could be mustered or incited.

So, in Luke’s retelling of the crucifixion, who are the key characters?

Who are our eyes drawn to - and why?

Perhaps the first characters we’re drawn to are the two criminals suffering a similar fate on either side of Jesus.

One of them, we’re told mocks Jesus: Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us.

That seems, to me, like a reasonable request.

By all accounts, Jesus, even as he was paraded through the streets on the way to the place of execution is recognised as the one on whom revolutionaries and activists had pinned their hopes. He was recognised as innocent of crime - except perhaps the most dangerous sort of crime - noising up those in authority, questioning the place and the status of those who lorded it over others.

So, even at the point of execution Jesus is recognised by the criminals on either side as a notorious agitator, one who was even thought to be the Messiah - that longed for figure who would rescue people from the throes of oppression.

So, it seems reasonable to me that one of the criminals should ask him - or taunt him - Save yourself and us! 

If ever there was a moment to show your super power, this was it!

In contrast, the other criminal apparently treats Jesus with more respect. We’re told he rebukes his companion who is giving Jesus a hard time, he cites Jesus innocence as the reason they should be more respectful, and then he asks Jesus to remember him: 

“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 

And, the astonishing thing is that Jesus assures him that that very day they will meet again in paradise.

So, in Luke’s account of the crucifixion, our eye is drawn to two criminals, facing the same fate, responding to death and to the person of Jesus so differently.

We might also be drawn to the leaders-  and the soldiers who carried out the leaders orders.

Mocking Jesus, taunting him with the titles “King of the Jews”, “Messiah”, asking why he can’t save himself, offering him sour wine, dividing up his clothes.

These folk were part of the oppressive regime that simply trampled others underfoot and, literally, go away with murder.

People so used to riding roughshod over everyone, that it ceased to horrify them.

Soldiers and leaders who took their cues from those above them and played their part in a system rotten at its core.

A system that oppressed the poor and paved the way for the rich to get richer.

Sound familiar?

So there were the criminals either side of Jesus, there were the leaders and soldiers who made life miserable for any and all who got in their way.

And there was the crowd:  And the people stood by, watching.

There are always the bystanders.

However many of these bystanders were not passive onlookers.

In this crowd, were those who, time after time, had been forced to watch countless acts of violence, been forced to look on as, time after time, justice was denied.

In this crowd, were many who bore witness to pain and cruelty.

There were mourners, there was family, there were Jewish officials, there were faithful women and men who showed up to witness yet another senseless act of death.

The faithful, who, it seems, could do little to change the course of events but who refused to turn away, refused to give in. The faithful who were committed to bear witness, committed to showing up.

And sometimes that is all we can do.

In the face of injustice.

In the face of evil.

When the mob rules and we cannot change the outcome.

Still we are called to show up.

And know that our showing up makes a difference.

It would be so easy today to resign ourselves to the suffering we see throughout the world, to the poverty, the homelessness, the violence we witness here on our own doorsteps. It would be easy to look away. To console ourselves with the promises of God that the Kingdom of God will be different. To lull ourselves into believing that better times are coming. And, in the meantime, we can wait it out.

God calls us to be better than that, to be more than that.

God’s call to us is to keep on showing up.

Because God’s kingdom is here.

Now.

And when we show up with all that we have alongside God, we bear witness, we hold out a light in the darkness, we hold out hope in the present and we make all the difference by simply showing up. 

Our God reigns - not in some future, longed for paradise - but here and now. 

And Christ the king calls us, the people of God today, to faithfulness, to showing up, to bearing witness and to living out God’s kingdom now.

As we approach Advent. As we prepare to welcome again, God born among us, let’s keep on showing up - for the glory of God.

Amen.

Apocalypse now!

Luke 21:5-19

The Destruction of the Temple Foretold

When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”

Signs and Persecutions

They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them.

“When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.

“But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. This will give you an opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all because of my name. But not a hair of your head will perish. By your endurance you will gain your souls.

Don't you just love this season of the year - I call it silly season.

The rest of the world, it seems, is gearing up for Christmas - and has been since Halloween - and the church is gearing up for Advent.

The rest of the world, in the unlikely event that it’s even considering sacred texts, is focusing on the Nativity.

And the church?

Is focusing on...  the Apocalypse.

Are we so out of step with our culture - the culture that God calls us to engage with good news?

And do we really need to read ancient apocalyptic texts today?

Isn’t there enough of the apocalypse happening in our world?

Aren’t there enough terrible things happening?

Isn’t there enough doom and gloom and scare mongering all around?

Do we need to indulge in it in the church too?

I happen to think that we do.

And here’s why:

When Jesus started spouting apocalyptic narrative and metaphor, he was appealing to those on the margins.

He wasn’t indulging those who were comfortable.

He wasn’t kow towing to those whose fortunes depended on the current structures remaining in place.

When Jesus got heavy, apocalyptic heavy, he was preaching a message of hope for the poor and the marginalised.

When Jesus got weird and started noising up the status quo, he was speaking words of security for the displaced and the dispossessed.

Because disruption of the empire could only be good news for those on the periphery.

The notion that all that kept the downtrodden in their place was about to be shaken up, literally toppled - was good news for the oppressed.

So even though, throughout Luke’s gospel, we tend to find Jesus being positive about the temple:

It’s the place where Simeon and Anna wait to greet the new Messiah

It’s the place where Jesus gets lost on a family outing

It’s the place where Jesus sets out his manifesto - Good news for the poor and the like

It’s the place that Jesus goes to lengths to protect as a place of prayer, driving out money changers and all that jazz.

Even though this has been a place Jesus has hung out in, observing and being seen, his prophesying its downfall would be music to the ears of those considered the dregs of society, those who longed for change, those who yearned for justice.

The destruction of the temple is, for them, a symbol of the possibility of revolution.

And that makes it entirely appropriate that these are the texts we turn to at this time of year - indeed at any time when we want to affirm that God’s kingdom is here and that we have a part to play in changing our world, in overthrowing injustice, in demolishing the status quo.

For those at the bottom of the heap, these are not words of the end times.

But words of hope in the present.

These are not words that invite us to indulge in escapism and imagine the new world to come that is out of this world.

Not words that invite us to dream of a blessed future.

These are words that speak of hope.

Hope now.

The hope that God’s kingdom, a kingdom of peace and freedom, a kingdom of justice and love will prevail in our world - not in some ethereal future, but here and now.

Apocalypse now would mean that those disenfranchised by Brexit would find a place to call home.

Apocalypse now would mean that those who are homeless would find shelter and those who are hungry would have enough to eat without being forced to rely on food banks.

Apocalypse now would mean that those who flee their homes because of violence and war would find a welcome and a refuge.

These words do not belong to the future.

They belong to now.

We are called to realise the kingdom of God among us.

Make up your minds, Jesus said. I will give you wisdom...

Our call is not to sit back and let governments sort out crises.

Our call is not to pin our hopes on an election or a referendum or a slowing down of climate change, however important those may be.

Our call is to live into and invite others into God’s kingdom of peace and justice, of equity and love - NOW.

Our call is to love as those who hope - not just for the future, but for now.

And that, right there, is counter cultural today.

Maintaining hope, not just for the future but for NOW.

Seeing beyond the appalling state of the world - globally and locally and knowing that it can be different.

And, out of our knowing, making a difference.

By showing up.

By speaking up.

By stepping up.

To serve God’s kingdom - that’s already among us.

What we do here week by week is counter cultural today.

And so is the kingdom of God.

So,let’s keep on being out of step.

Let’s take heed of Jesus’ apocalyptic words, words that are music to the ears of all who suffer, words of hope, not fear.

Hope will not be extinguished.

Love will not be defeated.

God’s kingdom is here.

May God give us hope and help us to live in love - not as those who despair today but as those who live and work alongside God in building God’s kingdom.

Apocalypse now.

Amen.

Creative in Crisis

Luke 16:1-13

Then Jesus said to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property. So he summoned him and said to him, ‘What is this that I hear about you? Give me an accounting of your management, because you cannot be my manager any longer.’ Then the manager said to himself, ‘What will I do, now that my master is taking the position away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. I have decided what to do so that, when I am dismissed as manager, people may welcome me into their homes.’ So, summoning his master’s debtors one by one, he asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ He answered, ‘A hundred jugs of olive oil.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it fifty.’ Then he asked another, ‘And how much do you owe?’ He replied, ‘A hundred containers of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill and make it eighty.’ And his master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly; for the children of this age are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than are the children of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes.

“Whoever is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much; and whoever is dishonest in a very little is dishonest also in much. If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches? And if you have not been faithful with what belongs to another, who will give you what is your own? No slave can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.”

In the Name of the Creator, the Redeemer and the Sustaining Spirit. Amen

One of the frustrating things about written communication is that it’s often hard to grasp the tenor of a letter or an email or a text - even when we employ devices like emojis to give some kind of clue about whether we’re being humorous or sarcastic or deadly serious.

Anyone scrolling through my texts or Facebook or twitter conversations might form a very different opinion of me to the judgement they’d make from a face to face meeting - Maybe!

There are lots of passages in the gospels, especially those so-called red-letter passages, that are full of Jesus’ words,  that I’d have loved to be able to see Jesus face as he spoke.

I want to see that tilt of his head, the glint in his eye or the tongue in his cheek.

Jesus was a wind up merchant.

He saw right through the piety and the practices of those around him - and he called them out on it constantly and, while, when Jesus wanted to, he cut to the chase, and took no prisoners, there were other times when, it seems, he enjoyed letting folk sift through his words, work things out, times when he allowed his message to sink in, bit by bit - because there was a lot - then and now, for folk to take in.

With this parable today, we are invited, not to gloss over it because it seems difficult, but to engage with it and discover how it might speak into our lives and into the life of the world we inhabit.

Never, in any of Jesus’ parables, are we allowed to be bystanders.

We are always implicated.

So what are we to do with today’s gospel?

How might we allow it to speak into our lives here as we celebrate the signs of harvest all around us?

Well, in the absence of those facial expressions or body language or even emojis, one of the things we have to rely on is the context of Jesus’ words as the gospel writers located them.

Todays gospel is placed between the parable of the prodigal Son and the parable of the Rich man and the poor man, Lazarus.

Two parables either side of today’s about gifts that have been squandered, about opportunities that have been missed.

And in the parable we read today,  about the dishonest manager, we’re told that the charges brought against the manager were also charges of squandering - he was accused of squandering the rich man’s property.

But it’s not just property that has been squandered - relationships have been squandered too.

Relationships have been squandered in all three of these parables, - the prodigal son wrote off his family, the manager exploited those he did business with and the rich man barely noticed the poor man at his gate.

Relationships are really important to Luke as he frames his gospel.

Throughout Luke’s gospel, there’s an emphasis on relationship, particularly Jesus’ relationships with those he encountered.

At every turn, Luke portrays Jesus as hanging out with those who were considered to be at the bottom of the heap, those deemed by others, beyond the pale.

Jesus was the talk of the steamie - or the synagogue - because of the company he kept.

The Pharisees in particular didn’t like the company Jesus kept and constantly criticised him for it.

And Luke, through his emphasis on relationships, gives us a glimpse into the social divisions of the day.

There’s also a whole economic divide highlighted by Luke in the parables he chooses to share.

He shares stories of folk in positions of relative prosperity and status having to rely on those much further down the food chain to bale them out in their hour of need.

In the parable of the Good Samaritan, we find the guy beaten up on the road to Jericho desperate for help,  any help, just grateful for anyone who won’t pass him by - even a Samaritan.

In the story of the prodigal Son, we find the son wishing that he could be as well off as the hired hands back at home, the ones he’d taken for granted all his life.

And the prodigal’s elder brother finds that he can’t join the party until he makes friends with the prodigal.

In today’s parable, the manager who lorded it over others, in his time of crisis, sees those others as his way out of a life of penury.

Maybe, just maybe, that’s why he is commended.

Because when the chips are down, when we’re backed into a corner, we are forced to get creative.

This man, in his hour of need, displays the same kind of desperation as the woman who had haemorrhaged for 12 years and worked up the courage to touch Jesus cloak. He found the same kind of courage that Jacob found when he stayed up all night to wrestle with God, in order to extract God’s blessing.

Desperate times call for desperate measures!

Today’s gospel shines a light on socio-economic, on political and on ethnic divisions that surrounded Jesus with Jesus in the midst of all that focusing on relationship, modelling for us a way of being in relationship with one another that is compassionate, that is restorative and that invites creativity.

Here, surprise, surprise, we have a gospel that speaks right into our world today.

This is a gospel that invites us to approach the celebration of Harvest with compassion, with an eye to what is restorative and that invokes our creativity as we relate to all around us.

This is a parable in which we are implicated as we wrestle with all of our socio-economic, our political and our ethnic divisions.

So let’s, just for a moment, consider 3 of those divisions with which we wrestle today - let’s talk about  Brexit, let’s talk about austerity measures and let’s talk about climate change.

Wherever you stand on the question of Brexit, we cannot deny that, in the name of Brexit, many have grasped an excuse to exclude and discriminate against others.

And the categories of those whom we consider “other” continues to grow, fuelled by the lies told and perpetrated in Brexit debates.

Whatever your political persuasion, no party seems able to address or redress years of austerity measures.

And the gap between rich and poor becomes an ever widening chasm.

Every weekend, we see our town and city centres filled with activists , protesting government policies and calling for justice for the citizens of the world, for those not yet born and for the earth itself. For the truth is that we’re not simply dealing with the economies of today, but with the deficits of the future, the things that, by the way we live and the choices we make, we are denying those who follow us into the future.

So what can we do?

We who claim to live by a different rhythm, we who are influenced by a totally different set of economics, the economy of the Kingdom of God.

How can we follow Jesus modelling relationships that are compassionate, that are restorative and that are creative?

As we celebrate Harvest today, we’re encouraged to confront those economies in which we operate and to assess the relationships we value.

We’re encouraged to question the ethics of of where our food comes from and how it reaches our tables.

We’re encouraged to consider the conditions of those who labour.

We’re encouraged to call out sharp practice.

We’re encouraged to wake up to crisis today.

Because it is by waking up to crisis, like the dishonest manager,  that we will find creative ways not to save the church, not even to save ourselves, but to listen and learn from those outside our normal circles, 

to listen and learn from those outside of our religious circles, 

to listen and learn from those outside of our social circles, 

to listen and learn from those we consider poor, 

to listen and learn from those we consider other, 

to listen and learn how we might survive the crises that assail us- and not just survive but flourish, making it possible for all of creation to know and to share in  the abundance that God promises and longs for us to know.

Waking up to crisis involves us re-evaluating our relationships.

Creativity  for us might come through listening to a 16 year old Swedish schoolgirl who invites us to wake up to the crisis of climate change.

Transformation might come from hanging out at the food bank, listening to the stories of those whose benefits have been sanctioned with no safety net.

Restoration might come from recognising that the economy of the Kingdom of God is so far removed from the economy in which the world operates.

Relationships matter much more than prosperity.

And everyone counts.

Instead of scarcity, there is abundance in God’s kingdom.

An abundance that transforms.

We are not bystanders.

Jesus parable implicates us.

But the good news is that still God invites us to be co-creators.

Still, God invites us to bring about transformation in our neighbourhood and in our world.

Still God invites us to be involved in the restoration of individuals and of communities, locally and globally.

Beginning first by listening to others, recognising how much we have to learn and receive from others, not just what we are able to give.

And, so, in this place, as we celebrate Harvest, as we take stock of the abundance and the ravages of the earth all around us, God invites us to be imaginative and creative in our relationships, with God, with one another and with the earth.

We are invited, with the God of the harvest, to wake up to the crises all around and to be courageously creative in seeking and in implementing how we might be shrewd managers of all of God’s gifts today.

For the glory of God.

Amen