Resolution

Sunday 8^th January 2012

Readings: Mark 1 v 4-11

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

Mark 1: 4-11

John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, ‘The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.’

 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’

On Friday night, later on, I decided it would be good to make some warming soup for the weekend. But we didn’t have all the ingredients I needed to hand, so a trip to Morrison’s was required.

Walking down Castlehill Road, I reveled in that thing you do when you’re out walking about at night – looking in folks’ windows.

Isn’t it fun to see folks in their lit up houses and wonder what their lives are like.

Of course we will never know the true stories behind the lighted tableaux that we glimpse – but it is fun, just for a moment, to fabricate our own scenarios.

Like one elderly couple, sitting facing each other over their dining table, both with heads bowed over separate reading material.

Perhaps they were doing the crossword from the newspaper.

Perhaps they were reading spell binding books.

They looked as though they were enjoying a comfortable companionship, each submerged in whatever they were reading, with no need for chatter.

In a number of lighted windows, I glimpsed folk dismantling their Christmas trees, packing up and putting away their Christmas ornaments for another year.

I could imagine the struggle with tangled lights and boxes that seem to have shrunk since the decorations were taken from them.

One of my colleagues posted, tongue in cheek, on facebook this week: “Well, that’s Christmas all packed away in boxes and placed under the stairs for another year.”

The sad thing is, that for many folk, that IS the way it is.

Few of us even wait until 12^th night – which is Epiphany – to get cleared up and get things “back to normal”,

By the New Year, folk are tired of Christmas.

And, even sadder, they DO long to get it packed up and put away for another year.

Mark’s gospel, which we’ll be following this year, is a bit like that.

Down to business.

No fripperies.

In fact Mark’s gospel doesn’t even “do” Christmas.

It just launches straight in with an account of the grown up Jesus’ baptism.

And so, this morning, in our reading from Mark, we encounter, again, John the Baptist – Jesus’ cousin, sent to prepare the way – that strange figure who seems to have been a bit of a curiosity – living and dressing so differently from others of his day – but a curiosity who drew people to him.

For all his strangeness, perhaps BECAUSE of his strangeness, people flocked to the wilderness to see him and to hear his preaching.

It wasn’t even as if he was preaching a message of comfort or of solace.

John the Baptist’s was a message calling folk to repent – to change the way they lived.

And so, in Mark’s gospel, Jesus’ ministry begins quite abruptly - when he too goes to the wilderness to seek out John and be baptized by him.

 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’

Its that message that I’d like us to begin the New Year with here at Castlehill today, a message that God speaks to each of us:

“You are my child, beloved; with you I am well pleased”

Next week, in our service. we will celebrate the sacrament of baptism.

Every time we do that, here in our worship, we use these words as part of the liturgy:

“All of us gathered here represent the whole people of God; Sacraments bring us joy. They also bring us responsibility. Do you renew your commitment, with all God’s people, to share the knowledge and love of Christ?”

In assenting to these words, as we do every time we baptize, we affirm that Baptism, a huge blessing, also confers on us a huge responsibility.

It is blessing and responsibility that I’d like to focus on this early in the new year.

Blessing and responsibility.

The story of the people of God is one filled with the interweaving of blessing and responsibility.

God, from the beginning, called people, blessed them and led them into service.

Consider some of those Old Testament stories with which you might be familiar:

The story of Adam and Eve, blessed with abundance and, even when they abused that abundance, still being favoured by God and given work to do cultivating the earth.

The story of Noah, who lived in the knowledge of God and was commissioned to rescue his family and experience more blessings from God.

The story of Abraham, called at a great age, blessed with many descendants, commissioned to be father of a great nation.

Stories of Isaac and Jacob, of David and Solomon, of Ruth and Naomi, of Deborah and Rebekah.

All recorded in scripture as folk who were called and blessed by God and led into service that changed the lives of their contemporaries.

Called, blessed, serving.

Notice the order of that –

The calling.

The blessing.

The service.

That’s the way it remains today.

God’s blessing on our lives is not dependant on us, on how we live.

Although, often, the way we live might blind us to the abundance of God’s blessing, yet that blessing is freely given.

We are still, to God, beloved children.

Our response to the knowledge of the blessing of God, has to be – the willingness to serve.

And, indeed, we celebrate that, in baptism, we are blessed and commissioned.

The rite of baptism is our rite of passage into a life called by God into service.

Serving God is a response of faith and love to the blessing that God confers at baptism.

One of the best known biblical blessings is The Aaronic blessing – the one that we sing at baptism –

The Lord bless you and keep you

The Lord make his face to shine upon you

And be gracious unto you

The Lord lift up his countenance upon you

And give you peace.

In our liturgy of baptism, we ask parents to profess their faith in the Triune God:

Do you believe in one God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit?

And on the strength of that belief, we baptize children into faith.

Baptism, as we celebrate it, is not conditional on us coming up to scratch – it depends, rather, on the amazing love of God being offered freely and without condition.

And, once the blessing of baptism is bestowed on a child of God, of whatever age, it is then that we seek promises of commitment – commitment from parents and commitment from all of us as the people of God.

Calling.

Blessing.

Service.
Baptism is  not something we celebrate once and then discard.
The blessings and the responsibilities go on.
As does the blessing and responsibilty of Christmas.
Not everything is packed away - or can be packed away.
We still light the Christ candle.
We still celebrate Christ in our  midst bringing us blessing and prompting us to serve.
Christmas lasts forever.
Baptism lasts for ever.

This Sunday, at the start of another year, I invite you to reflect on God’s blessing.

God calls and blesses each one of us here today.

Our response to that – is to celebrate God in our midst by loving and serving God more in the days to come.

Called.

Blessed.

Serving.

May that be the resolution of all involved in Castlehill Church this coming year:

A people called.

A people blessed.

A people serving God in love.

And to God be the glory.

Amen

Keeping the promises

This Sunday offers lots of choice for preaching. Although last week was New Year's Day, there was little focus on new beginnings, instead making the most of the last opportunity, for this year, to sing favourite Christmas Carols and hear again the readings of the season.
We could also choose to celebrate Epiphany or the baptism of our Lord.
As well as all this, it is also an opportunity to embark on the gospel of Mark. Although the new church year starts at the beginning of Advent and we move onto a different gospel, celebrating Advent and Christmas often deflects us from the gospel lectionary. Mark's gospel, which features this year, has an urgency about it - it launches straight into Jesus' ministry - no pfaffing around with Nativity narratives. And so, this year, I'm going to leave out the story of the wise men following the star but, hopefully, still capture something of the Epiphany - bringing startling light into our lives today.
Our sacrament of infant baptism recognises the grace of God offered freely - even to those who "do not yet know or understand". As a community of believers, however, we promise, together, to support each other in sharing the love of God with all God's children. And so, at the beginning of this New Year, we will explore that task and, hopefully, recommit ourselves to fulfilling it. Our task, as a community of faith, is to believe for those who can't.
The text for Sunday is here.

Hope on the margins

Sunday 4^th December 2011

Readings: Mark 1 v 1-8

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

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

 As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,
‘See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,
   who will prepare your way; 
the voice of one crying out in the wilderness:
   “Prepare the way of the Lord,
   make his paths straight” ’, 
John the baptizer appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, ‘The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.’

“Painting the Forth Bridge” is a saying that we commonly use to describe a never ending task – For around 120 years, this myth has been perpetuated in colloquial speech.

Painting the Forth Bridge has become a modern day legend, like a contemporary version of the Greek myth of Sisyphus.

But, on 9^th December, just 5 days time, this myth is about to end.

Next Friday, painters, who have for the past ten years, been coating the bridge with a special long life paint, will down tools.

And the bridge shouldn’t need painted for another 25 years.

The Forth Bridge – a familiar landscape that is changing.

Such winds of change propelled John the Baptist into the gospel story.

In a time of political and cultural unrest, all that was familiar was changing.

And so, when John the Baptist appeared, preaching a gospel of repentance, people flocked to see him and to hear him.

Here were people trying to live out their ancient faith in the midst of a vastly changed landscape.

No longer was faith at the centre of the life of the nation but on the periphery.

And so the beginning of Mark’s gospel takes us out to the wilderness – to meet John the Baptist, the messenger sent to call the people back to faith and direct them to the one who is to come.

And while his message of repentance might sound harsh to us today, to his listeners it was indeed good news.

Good news of prophecy being fulfilled, of all that they had longed for coming to fruition.

John the Baptist in all his strangeness and austerity was the one sent by God to preach the good news.

And the people flocked, not only to hear him but to repent and be baptised.

John the Baptist took the good news of God’s love back where it belongs – on the margins of society, to those who are tired, defeated and ground down by the rigours of daily life.

John took the good news to those who had lost almost everything, except hope.

It was hope that propelled folk out of their usual surroundings to the wilderness where John was preaching.

It was hope that kept them there, hanging on to his every word and making a response in baptism.

How often have we rejected what we need to hear because of who it comes from or where we hear it?

Or because it wasn’t quite what we wanted to hear.

We’re all good at filtering news so that we take in – and pass on – only those bits that we deem to be useful.

And, in doing that, we often dilute the message or miss the point altogether.

Maybe we’re not prepared to hear the gospel in a different way or in a different place.

And even less prepared to take the good news to the margins of our society.

Crashing into our Advent season comes John the Baptist, to tear our attention away from the distractions that assail us at this time of year – at any time of year – away from the glitter and tinsel, the shiny distractions that take our attention away from the heart of our faith.

The distractions that provide for us a way out of being challenged by the gospel, that help us remain in our cosy complacency, that make us feel busy with important things and thus avoid the uncomfortable challenge that is contained in the gospel – the challenge to repent, the challenge to share the good news in a way that speaks to and reaches out to those who need to hear it most and, in so doing, be convicted ourselves to change our ways to accommodate God who came among us and lives on in our lives.

The good news that we preach speaks to us too.

The good news proclaims for us a way forward in the uncertainty of the world and of the church.

A way forward in our changed landscape.

The familiar things we cherished, the old ways and traditions, packed churches and faith respected if not embraced.

How is it possible to follow Jesus, to proclaim good news in this changed landscape?

That involves embracing the hope that is also a theme of the Advent season.

Embracing hope that the one for whom John was sent to prepare the way is still able to bring light into the darkness of our world today.

In OUR changed landscape, we need hope more than ever.

Instead of lamenting how difficult it is to see God.

Instead of harking back to the way things were.

Instead of despairing of decline in the church and of lowered standards in the world.

How about looking for God in unexpected places.

Hearing the good news from unexpected people.

Being prepared to change ourselves so that God can transform us.

Waking up to the fact that God lives at the margins of life.

This is nothing new, it has always been so.

That is why, in Advent, our texts call us back to reality.

A reality that enables us to welcome the baby born in Bethlehem from a changed perspective.

A reality that takes us out of our cosy sentimental preparation into a more challenging, life changing preparation.

The kind of preparation that belongs, not here in this building but out at the margins of our society.

And, in this changed landscape to discover anew that the life changing word of God is still good news.

They flocked to see him, this wild prophet.

Out of curiosity?

Out of novelty?

Out of boredom?

He was certainly a sight to behold.

And he didn’t mince his words.

He told it straight.

Dressed nothing up.

Yet, still folk wanted to listen.

Maybe tired of being spoon fed

and molly-coddled.

They realised they needed to hear 

something more challenging.

It wasn’t a message of comfort

but, in a strange way,

it was a message of hope.

And, somehow, the starkness

made it more real.

What if we stopped dressing up the story

and allowed the truth to emerge?

Being a messenger might involve

saying the things 

that no one wants to hear

and showing a way 

that no one wants to follow.

Shaking folk out of their complacency

to look toward the light.

May the gospel we have shared today confront and challenge us.

May it help us make sense of the changed landscape in which we find ourselves.

May it propel us out to the margins of our society as we take up the call to  “Prepare the way of the Lord”

Seeing God

Sunday 20^th November

Reading: Matthew 25 v 31-46

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

"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.

All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats,

and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.

Then the king will say to those at his right hand, 'Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world;

for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me,

I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.'

Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink?

 And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing?

And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?'

And the king will answer them, 'Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.'

We read these words from Matthew’s gospel a few weeks ago at the BB Dedication
Service.
By them, I was hoping to encourage the boys – and all of us, that whatever we do for
others, no matter how insignificant we might think our deeds are, in serving others, we serve God and bring the Kingdom of Heaven that wee bit closer.
I’m sure those of you who managed that day appreciated hearing about the boys’
Romanian trip and the work they did there – as well as the opportunity to meet some
of the folk with whom they worked.
But what struck me even more was the effect that their summer trip has had on the
boys themselves.
They did a ton of good work.
They made a difference.
But they received much as well.
Lots of parents have mentioned to me since, how much their son got out of the trip.
How what they saw and were part of has changed them in small but significant ways.
Isn’t that so often the way of things?
That when we serve others, we ourselves are blessed.
Often, when we reflect on our good fortune – when we count our blessings- we
consider ourselves in a position to give.
It’s always good to recognise our capacity to serve others.
But we overlook our capacity to be served – to know the blessings that others, whom we may consider need our help, can bring to us.
We, who consider ourselves ministers are those who are ministered to.

In the church’s calendar, this is the end of the year – next week is Advent Sunday – the start of a brand new year in the church.
The gospel we have focussed on this year has been Matthew – next week, we begin a
year journeying with Mark’s gospel to accompany us.
Matthew’s gospel is very concerned with how we practise faith – the practicalities of
living out our faith.
Early on in the gospel, in the beatitudes, Jesus teaches of how those who are blessed
are the poor, the bereaved, the hungry, the thirsty – in other words, those
marginalised and expelled to the fringes of society.
Here, towards the end of the gospel, Matthew points us to the notion that, not only
are those on the fringes blessed – Christ lives in them!
The way Matthew’s gospel is arranged, this passage about the sheep and the goats
comes just before we get into the passion narratives and start to read about Jesus’
suffering and death.
So, almost immediately before we read of Jesus in the upper room, stooping to wash the disciples feet, we find this major focus on Christ as king –
"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory.
And so, before we enter into the season of Advent, we pause to celebrate this as Christ the King Sunday.
But what kind of king?
A king who hangs out with the outcasts, a king who serves others, a king who gets down and dirty with the people.
A king whom we can glimpse as we look at each other.

I feel as though I’ve preached this passage lots of times now – it seems to pop up a lot.
But every time, something new jumps out.
This week, I was struck by the fact that it wasn’t just the goats who couldn’t see Jesus in those who needed help – in the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the prisoner.
But the sheep, those whom Jesus calls blessed – they failed to recognize Jesus too.
It seems a shame that if we are going to show compassion, if we are going to reach out to others, that, even though we’re doing the right thing, even though we’re serving God in others, it seems a shame that we don’t recognize Jesus.
It’s possible to go through the motions and not feel the blessing.
It’s possible to serve others but not be aware of Christ present in their lives and in ours.

As we embark on the season of Advent, perhaps that could be one of our spiritual disciplines – to increase our awareness of Christ around us – to look harder to see Christ in our everyday, especially in the folk we encounter.We who profess to know Christ have no excuse for not serving Christ in our everyday.
And looking others in the eye, we should be able to see Christ’s face.

There is no avoiding the fact that this gospel passage contains words of judgement –
the sheep are separated from the goats and the goats are cast out.
Of course we’d like to count ourselves among the sheep – the blessed.
We might even have an idea of who would come into the goat category.
If we’re honest we might even be prepared to admit that sometimes we act like the
sheep who are blessed and, at other times we act like the goats who are cursed.
But judgement is not ours to make.
What we are called to is service.
Serving Christ by serving each other.
Looking for – and finding – Christ in the least of these.

As we come to the end of the church’s year and prepare to embark on another Advent, prepare to welcome again the Christ child, may our eyes be open to Christ fully grown in those around us and may we reach out to the least of these with the compassion of Christ the servant king.

Amen

God as we hail you today,

Christ the King,

we ponder the kingly image

that you portray:

a hungry king,

a thirsty king,

a king bedraggled,

homeless,

sitting on our kerbsides,

ignored by your subjects.

Quietly you wait for us to notice

and take action:

to lift you out of the gutter,

to clothe you

and feed you

and care for you. 

You do not cry out,

you simply wait and hope.

Christ the King,

as your hopes are dashed time and again,

awaken us and shake us

out of our complacency

by your quiet, persistent loving.

May we reach out to you

by reaching out to each other

and to those who live in the gutters

in our neighbourhoods.

Help us to do this

without seeking recognition

but simply because we can do no other.

Children of light

1 Thessalonians 5 v 1-11

Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves know very well that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night.
When they say, "There is peace and security," then sudden destruction will come upon them, as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and there will be no escape!
But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness.
So then let us not fall asleep as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober; for those who sleep sleep at night, and those who are drunk get drunk at night.
But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, and put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation.
For God has destined us not for wrath but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep we may live with him.
Therefore encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.


We've spent the day photographing local war memorials to use in worship tomorrow. Many different shapes and sizes, colours and hues, depicting lives lost in so many different parts of the world. Each name carved in stone carries a story - of bravery, of fear, of heroism, of sacrifice, of loved ones left behind whose lives were changed forever by loss. Hopefully, our Remembrance services tomorrow will allow us to remember those loved ones alongside the military personnel, to remember those whose names are not recorded but who also paid the price of war - civilians keeping homes running and factories working and munition stocks up.
As "Children of the Light", as described in our reading, we live in hope - the hope that we will no longer need to build memorials to those killed in war because we have discovered the pathway to peace.

Remember, remember...

Remember, remember the fifth of November

gunpowder, treason and plot

I see no reason why gunpowder treason

should ever be forgot

The night sky has been a riot of colour as we celebrate Guy Fawkes. Remembering in the season of Remembrance.
Joshua, that great leader who led the Israelites into the promised land, succeeding Moses, gathers the people together to remember. He reminds them of the people with whom they journeyed and the trials they endured and, through it all,  the faithfulness of God. And then Joshua challenges them: Remembering this history - whom will you serve? Joshua strikes, for the people, a new covenant with God.
Then Joshua said to the people, “You are witnesses against yourselves that you have chosen the Lord, to serve him.” And they said, “We are witnesses.” ²³He said, “Then put away the foreign gods that are among you, and incline your hearts to the Lord, the God of Israel.” ²⁴The people said to Joshua, “The Lord our God we will serve, and him we will obey.”²⁵So Joshua made a covenant with the people that day, and made statutes and ordinances for them at Shechem.
It would seem that we are good at the rituals of remembrance. Those we can do. Our rituals become ever more elaborate and inventive. It's letting our remembrance make a difference that we're not so good at. 
We remember some awful things yet fail to learn from them, fail to live differently in order to avoid history being repeated.
A new covenant, choosing to serve God, might help us honour the saints we remember, the living and the dead by committing ourselves to seek peace and practice justice. Until then, our remembering means nothing.