Lalalalala (Easter 5A)

Acts 7:55-60

But filled with the Holy Spirit, he gazed into heaven and saw the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘I see the heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God!’ But they covered their ears, and with a loud shout all rushed together against him. Then they dragged him out of the city and began to stone him; and the witnesses laid their coats at the feet of a young man named Saul. While they were stoning Stephen, he prayed, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.’ Then he knelt down and cried out in a loud voice, ‘Lord, do not hold this sin against them.’ When he had said this, he died.

When my adult child, in a rare moment of sharing (he is still a teenager) describes to me some of the exploits that are a part of his performing in a punk band, involving mosh pits and crowd surfing, I sometimes have to put my hands over my ears and sing loudly in order to block out the worrying pictures that he describes so vividly. While I appreciate his confidences, sometimes there are things I would rather not know! A clear case of too much information.
Stephen, one of seven men recruited to "wait on tables" so that the disciples would not be deflected from preaching the word, was guilty of sharing too much information.
Finding his preaching voice, he speaks too clearly to the religious institutions of the day, indicting their practice, inflaming their anger, to the point where they want him dead.
In order to stone Stephen, these good, religious people had to cover their ears to his preaching. They had to immunise themselves from his sharing of the vision he was receiving in the grip of the Holy Spirit. It would not have satisfied their appetite to quell his prophetic preaching if they took on board the justification he experienced in martyrdom. They needed to taste blood.
As people of faith today, living in the light of the Resurrection, we too can find ourselves covering our ears - blocking out those things we simply don't want to hear about, those things that indict our way of life. We, too, by closing our ears to the things we do not want to hear can find ourselves surrounded by the ugliness of rocks poised to attack, especially when those things we want to blot out call into question our dearly held traditions of faith.
Surely, as resurrection people, our mission is to seek new ways to listen and to respond and to discern the prompting of the Spirit of the risen Christ in all of life.

Words from the cross

Tonight (Good Friday) we reflected on the last sayings of Jesus on the cross using these meditations:

“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”

(Luke 23:34)

Forgiveness, forgiveness

hoisted aloft

in agony

near death

and from his lips

come words of forgiveness

Of all the things he could have said

the litany of woes and sorrows he could have recited

the folk he might have railed at

the folk he might have cursed

But instead, he implores forgiveness

Hallelujah! What a Saviour!

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing”

Those words are for you – and for me

Do you know it?

Dare you believe it?

Forgiven.

We are forgiven

By the one who hung on a cross and died

so that we might be forgiven.

THAT is forgiveness.

“Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing”

“Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

(Luke 23:43)

After forgiveness comes redemption

the one who proclaims forgiveness

also proclaims redemption

the one who know us

knows all that we are

forgives us

and embraces us

all the way to paradise

promising that we are not only forgiven

but loved and carried

all the way to eternal life

“Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

 “Woman, here is your son.”

(John 19:26)

Carried in love

in the womb of his mother

cradled in arms that were gentle

nurtured and loved

then released to life

set free to teach and to heal

And now, in the throes of death

filled with compassion

feeling the pain

of the woman who gave him life

the woman who trusted enough

to say Yes! to God’s plan

to say Yes! to a life

of worry and turmoil

the woman who bore

the son of God

and who now shared

the awful pain

of his death

Forgetting his own agony

and reaching out

to ease the pain

of the one

who carried him in love.

“Woman, here is your son”

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

(Mark 15:34)

Darkness, despair, desolation

a loneliness that could not be pierced.

Can we even begin to imagine the depths

that Jesus plumbed in death?

The man surrounded by others all through life

so hopelessly abandoned in death.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

‘I am thirsty.’ (John 19:28)

Human in birth

human in death

needing love and nurture

companionship

and sustenance

Fully human

Fully divine.

“I am thirsty”

“It is finished.” (John 19:30)

A task completed

a battle won

a love confounded

all said and done

a promise fulfilled

new hope for the world

God’s plan – the gift of God’s  own son

“It is finished”

‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ (Luke 23:46)

For God so loved the world

a love not human but divine

a depth not fathomed

love that reaches beyond

the restraints of nature

to grasp the outstretched arms

that embrace the world

Arms outstretched even in death

showing a love

beyond our grasp

and a hope we cannot measure

love stronger than life

stronger than death

“Father, into your hands I commend my spirit

A welcome - for all God's children?

As a way of introducing the young folks to the gospel reading - Jesus clearing the temple of the pigeon sellers and money changers - yesterday, I spoke of welcome and posed the question: what makes you feel welcome when you come to "our" church on a Sunday morning?
Of course there were lots of positive comments - people spoke of feeling warmly welcomed and brought into fellowship.
As minister I suppose it is my job to view with a more critical eye what others might perceive. What about when the camaraderie among team members feels slightly exclusive to one who is not "on the team"? What about when there are so many folk standing around chatting, obviously comfortable with each other that they obscure the way in - and the offering plate - for those unfamiliar with the layout? What about the untidy piles of leaflets scattered everywhere - there for the taking but with little rhyme or reason?
And what about the ticket sellers for all the various church events - albeit opportunities to enhance fellowship?
As I pondered these things, I also mused on the folks, many of whom are still there, who commissioned and built the sanctuary in which we now gather. What were their hopes and dreams and aspirations? In that hopeful time of building and of growth, did they envisage the rituals we have adopted today and the traditions that have become the norm or that have taken over in a relatively short time? Does it seem to them that their shiny new sanctuary continues to fulfill it's purpose as the house of God for a new generation? Are they still optimistic about the future? And where do they see themselves in that future?
Being prophets today, what would we clear from our sanctuaries to make way for the Kingdom of God?
Do we have the courage to act out our intentions and bring the gospel to life in our familiar and well loved sanctuary?

Rocky Road

Mark 8:27-38

²⁷Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” ²⁸And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” ²⁹He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” ³⁰And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

³¹Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. ³²He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. ³³But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

³⁴He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. ³⁵For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. ³⁶For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? ³⁷Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? ³⁸Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

This gospel reading is a gospel of two halves.

One half: who do you say I am?

The other half: Get thee behind me Satan.

Jesus and his disciples have been doing a whirlwind tour of the nearby towns and villages, preaching, healing, teaching.

The locals have been amazed and astounded by this Rabbi, this teacher who is so different from anything they have known to date – and they have been subject to a lot of wacky prophets for years.

And yet, even though they’ve seen these itinerant preachers come and go, there is something different about Jesus, something that attracts and keeps them going back for more.

I was musing this week on what made Jesus different?

What made him stand out from all the others.

What makes any preacher stand out?

In the days when we had communion seasons – when there was a preparatory service before communion and then several diets of communion services, when different preachers would be invited to come and participate in what now sounds like a preaching marathon -

Or Holy Fayres, perhaps in this neck of the woods.

A few years ago, I hosted a Holy Fayre in Inverkip parish. We invited former ministers back to preach.

It started off at 9:30am and went on all through Sunday, culminating in an outdoor communion service late in the afternoon.

That kind of preaching athletics was a regular occurrence.

And, occasionally, one preacher would stand out from all the others.

Maybe it was their tone of voice.

Maybe it was their personal charisma.

Maybe it was their humour or scariness or their way of getting the message across in a way that stopped folk in their tracks.

But something would make that preacher stand out from all the others.

Quite apart from Jesus’ miracle making and his healing, the things he said seemed to draw folk back for more.

His words were just as compulsive as his actions.

Everywhere, folk were talking about him.

So Jesus asks his disciples: What are folk saying about me?

Who do they say I am?

Well, some say you are John the Baptist some say Elijah or one of the other prophets come back to life.

Lots of suppositions.

Lots of theories.

It must have been quite amusing for Jesus to hear what was going around about him?

It seems that folk in those days weren’t that much different from folk today – what they don’t know, they’ll soon make up!

And you can imagine Jesus and his disciples having a bit of banter around that question: who do people say I am?

But the banter soon stops when Jesus asks: Who do YOU say I am?

Time to stop talking about other folk and their opinions and put your own neck on the line.

Who do YOU say I am?

Peter: You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.

Good answer, it would seem.

But, there is little time for Peter to bask in the glory of having got it right.

For life moves on.

The demands of the gospel are relentless.

Then AND now.

The disciples might well have reached a milestone.

But that’s not the end of the journey.

Like all moments of discovery, this one is just another stepping stone or marker on the way.

The journey continues.

A journey of listening and learning, a journey of two steps forward and three steps back.

And so, Peter, assured of who Christ is – the Son of God, still manages to get it wrong just a short time later.

When Jesus races on.

When Jesus speaks plainly of what is ahead.

Suffering and death.

Few of us are comfortable when folk speak plainly at the best of times.

But the kind of plain speaking that Jesus engaged in riled everyone around him.

Peter is the one bold enough to ask him to keep it down.

In many ways, it is easy for us today, journeying through Lent, knowing that, even though we will observe The Passion, remember Christ dying on the cross, we KNOW that Resurrection was just around the corner.

Peter had no such assurance.

He did not know that when Jesus said:

the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again

Peter did not know that Jesus was talking about resurrection.

Peter could only hear Jesus speak of suffering and death.

And, having discovered how wonderful this Messiah was, he wasn’t about to let that happen without protest.

Today, we live, thankfully, in the light of the Resurrection.

So what is our excuse?

Why do we keep trying to dilute the challenge of the gospel?

Why do we insist on promoting the comfortable version.

We know who Jesus is.

We know and believe in the resurrection.

But we know, too, that living as disciples involves hardship.

Following Christ is NOT a walk in the park.

There will always be the temptation to attract others by watering down the challenge.

But, succumbing to that temptation will earn us the same rebuke that came Peter’s way.

We know who Jesus is.

We rejoice in the knowledge of the resurrection.

But we must maintain a reality about the road Christ leads us in discipleship.

Not an easy road.

But one that demands much of us.

One that demands sacrifice.

One that involves setting our minds on divine things, not the easy rewards of the world.

2 questions for us tonight:

Who do YOU say Jesus is?

and

What will you do with that knowledge.

Jesus, the son of the Living God, calls us to follow him, promising, not a smooth road by any means, but promising companionship on the journey.

Are we prepared to endure hardship, to lay aside what is comfortable and take up our cross and journey on with Christ by our side in all things?

May God help us to know who Jesus is and give us strength to keep up with the journey – may God use us as disciples today.

For the glory of God.

Amen

Mountain top to wilderness

Mark 9:2-10
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and John, and led them up a high mountain apart, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them. And there appeared to them Elijah with Moses, who were talking with Jesus. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, “This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!” Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus.
As they were coming down the mountain, he ordered them to tell no one about what they had seen, until after the Son of Man had risen from the dead. So they kept the matter to themselves, questioning what this rising from the dead could mean.

Why does the Transfiguration make one of its appearances in the Lectionary just before the start of Lent?
I'm sure there will be as many answers to that as there are preachers.
But this year, in preparing our Lenten worship programme, I have been struck between the eyes by the progression of the Christian season - from Advent, through Christmas, into Epiphany and, now, into Lent.
This was partly triggered by being in New Orleans, Louisiana, witnessing some of the Mardi Gras celebrations that begin on Epiphany, (6th January), gathering momentum right through to Shrove Tuesday (Mardi Gras). But it was also fueled by a clergy colleague asking me: "What, for you, is the most natural direction for your theology - is it seen from the perspective of the cross, looking back or from the perspective of the crib looking forward?"
That question helped me to crystallise that my preferred theology is Incarnational. What is important, for me, is God entering and interacting with the world. For me, the love of God was first shown in the stable in Bethlehem. And, while the cross is a pretty huge part of the whole outplaying and outpouring of that love of God,(an understatement if ever there was one!), Jesus' death was not possible without his birth.
Depending on the tradition in which we have been steeped, or the particular brand of faith we have adopted, we tend to view God's activity in the world through different lenses - seeing everything through the lens of the violence of the cross, or through the lens of the vulnerability of the crib.

Another colleague pointed out to me recently how much I like to wear a heart around my neck, rather than a cross. And that too, I believe, reflects my preference to embrace the loving action of God present in our world rather than God's death on the cross, even though love triumphed over evil in the resurrection.

And so to Transfiguration Sunday and its place in the hustle toward Lent.
It seems to me that when Jesus glows on the mountain top, surprising his disciples, and his Lordship or Son of Godship is confirmed in the voice from Heaven, what was important was that they didn't linger in the dazzle but that they got themselves back down the mountain to pick up on the nitty gritty.
And so, worship wise and lectionary wise, we move from that fluorescent moment to the grit and dust of the desert where Jesus fasted and faced temptation.
And we take time to "get with the programme" as Jesus did.
Lent affords us the opportunity to contemplate Jesus' ministry and to reflect on God's activity and presence in the world of our everyday.
And, whatever our theology, we cradle a vulnerable, loving God, born in us, living in the grit of the world. From the crib to the cross.

Standing out

Mark 1:40-45
A leper came to him begging him, and kneeling he said to him, "If you choose, you can make me clean." 
Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, "I do choose. Be made clean!" 
Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. 
After sternly warning him he sent him away at once, saying to him, "See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them." 
But he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.


In the gospel of Mark, we often see Jesus enabling people to blend into their communities. Folk ostracized because of perceived shortcomings, be they physical, moral or spiritual, were acknowledged by Jesus and brought back into community. Often Jesus, in their place, took on their marginalization so that his physical, moral and spiritual well being was called into question.
In this story of Jesus healing a leper, while the leper became acceptable, the leper's testimony ensured that Jesus was unable to move around without attracting much unwanted attention.
Perhaps effective discipleship today consists of blending well with our communities and bearing witness to Jesus who stands out from the crowd, offering wholeness and acceptance to all.

Ulterior Motive?

Mark 1:29-39
29As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. 31He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.
32That evening, at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. 33And the whole city was gathered around the door. 34And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him. 35In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 36And Simon and his companions hunted for him. 37When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” 38He answered, “Let us go on to the neighboring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.” 39And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.


I've always been slightly scathing of today's text - seeing the healing of Peter's mother in law as being a very convenient act of pragmatism - Jesus and the disciples are hungry, so healing is required for the one who will serve them.
Mulling it over with the Revgals this week, though, brought a much needed new perspective. That of looking at Jesus' healings as acts of restoration - not just conferring on folk better physical or spiritual health but, also, restoring to them their place in the community.
Peter's mother in law's role in life was as a nourisher of her family - and that was what Jesus gave back to her in his intervention.

As is Mark's way, we move swiftly from that healing, to crowds clamouring around Jesus, all seeking different things, united by the common longing for restoration, a place in community, the desire to blend in.
And, once Jesus deals with that little lot, off he goes, seeking some space for rest and renewal.
The disciples sought him out with those words that are often heard in church circles: "Everyone is looking for you."
And then, the disciples, having caught up with Jesus, are immediately led forward to new tasks and new horizons, to new areas of ministry.

A cunning ploy of Jesus - then AND now. Just when we think we've "got it", he leads us into new discoveries and new areas of service.

So much in this brief gospel passage. Can we keep up? Are we willing to try?
Do we have the energy required to keep moving on to see the gospel from lots of different angles and to continually seek out those we are called to serve? And, in our practice of restoration, rather than basking in our sense of accomplishment, can we see the new horizon to which God is calling us?
Of course there are ulterior motives in Jesus' healing.
May we know that restoration, renewal and moving on.