Crumbs from the table

Luke 16:19-31
The Rich Man and Lazarus
“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames. ’ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us. ’ He said, ‘Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment. ’ Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them. ’ He said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent. ’ He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead. ’”

A few years ago, on Good Friday, I felt called to take Communion onto the streets of the Parish in which I served at the time.
It seemed to me that, on Good Friday, most folk were enjoying a Public Holiday, the reason for which was the death of Jesus Christ and there was very little acknowledgement of that.
And more - Jesus had said: "This is my body broken for you. Do this to remember me."
For me, the place and the time to remember Jesus sacrifice was on the streets on Good Friday.
So, we set up stall, outside a chip shop in the parish - the juxtaposition of fast food and soul food appealed to me! - and we offered all who passed by the bread and wine of Communion.
Some folk looked at us with suspicion.
Some folk passed us by quickly, avoiding eye contact.
Some folk took bread and wine - because they could, not lingering, but moving on again quickly.
Others, were overwhelmed by the idea that they should meet Christ on the street and not locked up in our church buildings as they had come to expect.
But aren't we who gather in church buildings, called to join Christ - who is already out there on our streets- and serve alongside him?
So, we took Jesus onto the streets on Good Friday in bread and wine.
In subsequent years and, as word got around, I was involved in some interesting discussions with colleagues about what constituted communion, how it should be consecrated and whether folk who had not heard the word preached or examined their motives before they took the bread and wine could really be deemed to have shared in the sacrament.
But none of those theological discussions diminished the humility I experienced when folk, with tears in their eyes said: "Thanks for bringing Christ to us" - or "I'd never have found my way to church- thanks for bringing church out here."
Folk are often surprised when the church as a body reaches out to people.
And that's a damning indictment.
Folk don't expect us as Christians to be of much earthly use.
There is a great chasm between the church and the world.
Like the chasm we read of in our gospel reading today - between the rich man and poor Lazarus.
The rich man was blissfully unaware of Lazarus during his lifetime.
And even, in his eternal torture, he failed to pay him heed except as someone who could serve him by bringing him relief in his torment - a drop of cold water.
But, before we judge the rich man harshly, as we are tempted to do,lets consider his status and the culture he was a part of that shaped and formed him:
The popular religious instruction of his day encouraged folk to see the blessings of God manifest in material wealth and prosperity.
The rich man was a prime example of someone blessed by God.
Whereas Lazarus was a wonderful example of one cursed by God - right down to the sores covering his body.
Such graphic descriptions of those cursed or blessed by God punctuate the Scriptures taught by religious leaders of the day.
But also in those Scriptures are exhortations to care for the needy and the poor.
It seems that one message was being taken seriously while another was being conveniently overlooked.
And so, in this parable, Jesus draws attention to this huge gap in folks understanding and practice.
This is NOT a parable about wealth.
It is NOT a parable told to scare us about the after life.
It is a parable told to encourage folk to live differently, to look out for each other THIS SIDE OF HEAVEN.
To bridge the chasm that exists, more than ever today, between the majority of us and the poor.
Why do we have a huge collection of food in the vestibule this morning?
Because we are collecting for the South Ayrshire Foodbank - our Harvest Appeal that we will dedicate next week.
Why do we need to do that?
Because on our own doorsteps people are struggling with poverty.
People need help to feed themselves and their family.
Some of those folk we can see, others we won't see.
And those are the folk here in our locality.
Still there are countless others in our world who will die today because they do not have even crumbs from our table.
Such is the chasm that still exists between the rich and the poor.
Unfortunately when Jesus pointed out the absurdity of this huge gap, he omitted to tell us how to close the gap.
And so the challenge remains - and the gap gets bigger.
What could have changed the rich man, helped him see the poor around him?
What would change us?
Enough to make a difference.

One of the most sobering experiences of taking bread and wine onto the streets was the gratitude of folk knowing themselves included in the sacrifice of Christ, knowing that - it was for them... that Christ died, knowing themselves fed by the bread of life.
Every time we gather around this table, whether we celebrate the sacrament or not, Christ is present - as he is present on the streets.
We cannot gather here, we cannot be fed - and then go out and ignore those Christ calls us to serve.
It is for us to find whatever ways we can to bridge that chasm that grows today.
Abraham said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead. ’”
Is that our plight today?
Will nothing change us - not the word of God, not the bread and the wine, not the awful statistics that speak of poverty in our world today, that tell of those who starve when this world has more than enough food to share?
Jesus Christ gave his life for us.
HE was raised from the dead.
And now he calls us to feed the poor.

As I stood in the street offering bread and wine, as well as those folk who were touched and possibly changed by meeting Christ on the street, there were many more who simply walked by.
And I was reminded of those words of Scripture: Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow...
Can we leave this place today and be as those who turn our backs on the Christ who is already on our streets.
Or will we take the crumbs from the table and share them freely.
Not because we are afraid of how we will fare in the afterlife.
But because we care about those with whom we share life today.
May we offer more than crumbs from the table.
For the glory of God.


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Prudent Stewardship

Luke 16:1-13
The Parable of the Dishonest Manager
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.”

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.
Did we really read that in our gospel today?
And did Jesus really say: If then you have not been faithful with the dishonest wealth, who will entrust to you the true riches?
This is another of those gospel passages that preachers want to avoid like the plague!
There are so many ways we could look at this passage today, so many ways it might speak into our world today.
Often, the more uncomfortable the gospel is, the more pertinent it is too!
So, for starters, lets attempt to enter the story Jesus told and see if we can figure out what the manager in the story is up to.
Faced with the prospect of losing his job, his income and his status, what does he do?
He calls in all his master's debtors and writes off huge portions of their debt.
Today, we might think of that kind of action as spite.
But, in the society in which Jesus and this manager moved, saving face was a massive cultural necessity.
So - the manager is about to lose his job.
The folks he calls in to reduce their debt will see that he still has power and, when he leaves his current employment will be better disposed to still include him in their society circles.
His magnanimity, however, also gives his employer the ability to save face.
No longer is he the wealthy landowner who has been cheated - he has in his employ a very shrewd businessman.
Not only that, but he is able to demonstrate that he is big enough, even after all that has happened, to commend his manager for his actions - a huge cultural win for him, one that, in today's dog eat dog culture we have difficulty understanding.
As I re-read the passage in this light, it struck me that recently, the UK Government might have embarked on a face saving exercise that would have had far reaching effects.
David Cameron, defeated in his quest to use military force against those responsible for chemical warfare in Syria, might have creatively explored other ways to gain support not just in this country but worldwide.
Since funds were clearly available to embark on yet more military action, our political leaders might have considered instead using those funds to alleviate the suffering of those affected by the chemical attacks.
What a difference that would have made.
Not only in Syria, but throughout the world as other leaders witnessed the UK's generosity.
And saw history being made in funds raised for war being used to bring about peace.
So - this parable explores the cultural concept of saving face.
It also explores our relationship with prosperity.
How we might reconsider the way that we share what we have and reapportion our resources, even redeeming what might be considered ill gotten gains for good in our communities.
There's a myth about the church - that we are always looking for money.
And, given that we are in the midst of a Stewardship campaign, that myth might have just grown legs.
There is also a myth that we shouldn't talk about money in the church - it just turns people off. And we know we simply can't afford to do that!
Well I've never been afraid to offend people by preaching the gospel.
And the gospel, over the next few weeks, is clearly preoccupied by issues around money.
If we keep avoiding the subject how can we ever establish a healthy relationship with money and how can we ever engage with all the questions that surround our wealth - or lack of it.
The last couple of years, as you know, I've been involved with the Church of Scotland's National Youth Assembly.
One of the most popular workshops is one on managing money. Our young people, wrestling with unemployment and all the vagaries of the benefits system or with further education and student loans, want advice on how to handle their finance in a responsible and caring way.
Those same young people are also actively involved in speaking out against the injustice of tax avoidance that has become the norm for so many large and prosperous corporations.
Because the truth is that what we do matters - in our personal finance and in our public finance.
When we hold on to what is not rightfully ours, others suffer by our injustice.
Withholding our taxes has a direct impact on the suffering of the poor, those who need us to be just simply to survive.
But, of course, injustice it's not just about withholding our taxes.
Taxes that find their way into government aid, social security, health and welfare.
Injustice also occurs when we are not willing to share whatever we have to help others in a much more close up and personal way.
I can remember when Hospices grew up in communities, resourced by the generosity of people in the community giving not just their money but also their time.
Some people refused to give, maintaining that such a vital service should be funded by the government.
Our communities would be a whole lot poorer if we simply relied on government funded programmes and facilities.
Indeed, communities are created by people getting together to share the resources that they have to help one another and even those they will never meet.
This community we call church is no different.
It relies on generosity, on good will, on the love of those involved - for the sake of others.
We who are a part of this community model the love and generosity of God each time we share our resources - with those we know and with those we will never meet.
And it's not about looking good.
Or about saving face.
It's about genuinely caring enough to put our wealth at the disposal of others.
So this awkward gospel passage, echoing cultural conundrums of its time, speaks clearly into our culture today.
How will we choose to model the love and the generosity of God.
How will we put our resources at the disposal of the community we serve?
How will we redeem our tarnished reputation, embrace our prosperity, and serve God with our money?
God calls us as we are and asks that we honour God by offering all that we have to serve God's people.
To God be the glory.
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Lost and found

Luke 15:1-10
The Parable of the Lost Sheep
Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”
So he told them this parable: “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety- nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost. ’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety- nine righteous persons who need no repentance.
The Parable of the Lost Coin
“Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost. ’ Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”
You'll probably all know that just by the right side of the church door as you enter is an umbrella stand. It gets a lot of use. But, of course, if we come to church in the rain and it dries up while we worship, it's easy to forget to collect your brolly on the way out. And there are always extra brollies abandoned there. So, if you've been missing one for a while - that's where to look.
But also in that corner is a lost property box - that's usually full of hats and scarves and gloves, as well as bags, keys, glasses, brooches, even the odd hearing aid!
What do we do when we lose something?
Right now, I seem to be missing one of my favourite jackets.
It took me a while to realise it was missing.
I just thought I'd hung it in a different place,or left it in the car/ whatever.
But, after a while, I realised it really was missing.
It wasn't at the bottom of my back pack.
Or languishing in the boot of the car.
So what I've been trying to do is work out when I last had it.
Trying to picture the last time I wore it.
Or the last time I took it with me, just in case it rained.
Isn't that what we do when we lose something.
Once we realise its missing, we try to retrace our steps, work out where we last saw it, when we last used it?
In our gospel reading today, we encounter lost things - a sheep and a coin.
There's no resignation on the part of those who have lost in this reading.
No.
They pull out all the stops to recover what is lost.
However unlikely it might seem that a shepherd can abandon all the other sheep to strike out for the one foolish enough to get lost, or however extreme it might seem to spring clean a house just to find a lost coin - those are the scenarios we are presented with in our gospel.
A lost sheep.
And a lost coin.
Tracked down.
And found.
What might be the things that we might think about investing some energy in finding today?
What about that joy that was once yours as you met with Gods family in worship, that joy that has been dulled by a sense of duty or by the feeling of being taken for granted.
What about the familiarity you once had with the rhythm of worship - that familiarity that has gradually diminished as you've drifted away, caught up in other things.
What about the excitement you once knew as you listened to and were challenged by the message of the gospel - an excitement that has faded as you've become used to the challenge and the impossibility of the demands.
Or what about the enthusiasm you once had to share the good news, to invite others to join you on this journey of faith - an enthusiasm blunted by rejection or by the quest for an easy life.
What would it take to recover these vital elements of our faith - the joy, the rhythm, the excitement, the enthusiasm?
Perhaps it's like searching for any other lost thing.
It involves us retracing our steps.
Going back to where we were.
Thinking of where and when we last felt joy or rhythm or excitement or enthusiasm in our journey of faith.
Taking ourselves back to rediscover what is important.
And not giving up until we find it.
So, if this morning, your worship is tinged with resignation or regret or sadness or resentment or whatever makes you less than thrilled to be here, how about backing up a little?
How about investing some time and energy into finding that lost mojo, that spark that will inspire and feed you.
The missing element that will enhance your worship and your faith and your life.
The glimmer that promises that, whatever tunnel you are in at present is not beyond God's reach, is not out of God's sight.
It doesn't matter how often we lose sight of God.
God never loses sight of us.
And God rejoices every time any of us manages to retrace our steps and find our way back to the essence of God's love
This gospel story actually makes it seem quite a good thing to lose our way every now and again - just so we can be part of the party that is Gods when we are found.
But in reality, isn't that the story of our journey of faith anyway.
No matter who we are.
No matter the calibre or strength of our faith.
It needs constant attention.
Proclaiming faith is not a once and for all event.
It's an act that bears repeating time and again as we journey through everyday and experience God in new ways, in new places, and, yes, even when it appears that we've lost God.
God's family is not divided into the lost and the righteous, into those who constantly strive for faith and those who think they have found it.
At different points on the journey, our faith takes different forms, sometimes strong, sometimes in need of resuscitation.
But always, God knows where we are.
And what we need.
And leads us always into grace.
Thanks be to God.
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Kindling

Luke 12:49-56
Jesus the Cause of Division
“I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled! I have a baptism with which to be baptised, and what stress I am under until it is completed! Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! From now on five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three
they will be divided:
father against son
and son against father,
mother against daughter
and daughter against mother,
mother- in- law against her daughter- in- law
and daughter- in- law against mother- in- law.”
Interpreting the Time
He also said to the crowds, “When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. And when you see the south wind blowing, you say, ‘There will be scorching heat’; and it happens. You hypocrites! You know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time?

On Sunday mornings, I like to preach on the Lectionary texts - that's the prescribed readings for each Sunday of the year.
It's a good discipline.
It means I'm forced into preaching on texts I would otherwise avoid - and it stops me sticking to one hobby horse or another.
But, since I preached on the Lectionary text this morning, I decided to choose something different for tonight.
And, for the life of me, I can't think why I thought that the gospel we read tonight would be a good text.
Whatever inspiration I had when I chose it had long gone by the time I sat down to write a sermon!
Bringing fire, causing division - it's not exactly the Jesus we like to portray.
So lets begin to look at this text by thinking about where Jesus was in his ministry when he taught in such a vein.
It's fair to say that Jesus was under some stress at this point in his ministry.
He was already on his way to Jerusalem.
On his way to betrayal and suffering and death.
And he knew it.
And so his teaching takes on a different kind of urgency from before.
There's no time for messing around.
No time for finding just the right sound byte.
His time is limited and there is a message that must be shared.
Jesus is stressed.
And that is something many of us can identify with.
In today's world we are familiar with stress.
Perhaps not the stress of a journey to crucifixion.
But other life limiting, situations that bring considerable stress today.
Those facing terminal illness - their own or a loved one's.
Those facing uncertainty in employment.
Those facing loneliness or isolation.
Those battling mental health issues.
Those struggling with poverty, homelessness, hunger.
Folk today know about stress.
It is a 21st century ailment just as it was an ailment that affected Jesus in his time.
When stress threatens our well being today, we can know without a doubt that Jesus has been there.

But sometimes it takes stress to help us get some perspective.
We can all muddle along, taking life in its stride, getting upset at trivia, "sweating the small stuff" as I call it.
And then a loved one is diagnosed with a terminal illness.
Or we face the prospect of unemployment.
Or a friend is killed in a tragic accident.
And suddenly, all the things we worried about before pale into insignificance.
And we begin to see what is important in life.
Stress of that kind, though never welcome, does bring perspective.

Jesus message in our gospel today is a message on perspective.
A message on urgency.
A message for us as a people of faith.

We cannot keep on muddling along as we do.
The gospel message is urgent.
More urgent than ever in a world that is so broken by war and violence and injustice.
Jesus said: “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled!
Our suffering world today needs the fire of Gods love and the fire of the gospel to spread like wild fire.
More than ever people in our communities need to know that there is hope, that there is love.
And who will share that hope and love if we don't?

So what will we do with the kindling Jesus brings?
Will we be indifferent - something we are good at. Keeping the peace by remaining as inoffensive as we possibly can?
Keeping a low profile so that we don't upset anyone?

Will we pour water on it - quenching the flame?
Often, our best intentions have the same effect. Instead of igniting the kindling of faith, they pour cold water on people's best efforts and drive folk away from faith.
When we make folk feel as though they don't belong.
When we convey the message that they're not good enough - for us or for God.
Or when we draw up rules and refuse to bend them to include others.
We put folk off before they've even got started.
We extinguish what little fire there is.

Or - will we ignite that kindling.
Take it seriously.
Treat it with the respect it deserves.
Let it affect our lives and the lives of others as we share the fire and the passion of God's love?

This gospel doesn't sound so strange anymore.
It fits into the context of our lives, lives that confront all kinds of stress daily.
But it still doesn't sit comfortably.
Because it is a gospel that demands a response.
A gospel that demands that we get some kind of divine perspective and catch on to the divine urgency.
The kindling needs igniting.
And we are the fire keepers today.
Will we fan the flames or quench them?

Amen.


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Place settings

Luke 14:1;7-14
On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.
When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honour, he told them a parable. “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honour, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, ‘Give this person your place,’ and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher’; then you will be honoured in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
He said also to the one who had invited him, “When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbours, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

There was a discussion among some of my colleagues this week about how effective was our pastoral ministry when it so often consisted of simply having a cup of tea and a blether with folks.
That might not sound very effective.
It may not even sound like it's the best use of time - and certainly many of my younger colleagues felt that way.
And yet, isn't it the way that Jesus went about his ministry?
In calling folk into the Kingdom, whether gently or with challenge and even, at times, ridicule, Jesus liked to do it over supper, dinner, a picnic lunch, a barbecue, a wedding feast.
Table fellowship was important to him.
I've said time and again, that the days I find most fulfilling in ministry are those days when I've sat in folks' homes and shared coffee, admired their pictures of loved ones, been privy to awards that hang on their wall or paintings stuck on their fridge, mementoes that tell stories, some of which are shared, some that don't need to be - but all part of the bigger picture of the person with whom I'm sharing.
(It's also the reason that I fight a constant battle against weight gain- often those coffees are accompanied by home baking or other temptations!)
Sharing table fellowship deepens relationship.
Or it can - if we allow it.
Jesus got to know all sorts of things about people by sharing round their tables.
And they got to know him.
And so relationships were formed through which Jesus could show his compassion, through which Jesus could offer challenge and through which Jesus could even rebuke.
It's a simple fact that folk are more likely to listen if connections have been made, if a relationship has been formed.

At the beginning of the week, I was involved in a meeting.
There were about 12 of us around the table.
We shared coffee at the start of the meeting - most of us had travelled a fair way to get there - and then got down to business.
Since we all had a bit of a journey to get home, we decided to continue working through a sandwich lunch rather than take a break.
But as we all got what we wanted - tea, coffee, sandwiches, we caught up with each other, since there hadn't been the opportunity earlier.
I was mid conversation with someone when we realised that our colleague across the table was telling a joke - and the whole table stopped to listen.
Having shared with each other before, we recognised the change in tone - and we all knew it was worth holding off on our conversations to listen in to another.
That's what can happen in table fellowship - we can get distracted, or sucked in.
And that's not a bad thing.
It's good to be able to pick up on nuances, to catch the different emotions, to hear what is said - as well as what is not spoken out loud.

Lets never underestimate the power of a "wee cup of tea". - not just its cure all properties but its relationship forging ability and thus its gateway to loving and caring, to challenging and cajoling.
Jesus not only practiced table fellowship but used it to illustrate the Kingdom of God.
In the gospel passage we read, he was at a meal and he used the meal as a lesson on how we should be hospitable to others.
Jesus took the table plan of the meal in which he shared to teach his followers how to practice humility and how to find honour.
It would be better, Jesus told them, to sit at a lowlier place and be moved up than to take a higher place and be moved down.
We can all see that.
Even today, that makes sense.
But Jesus goes on to say that we should think carefully too about whom we invite.
Our invitation shouldn't just go to those who are likely to return the favour - but should extend beyond those bounds to those whom we know will never be able to repay our hospitality.
Now there's a challenge.
Would we be comfortable partying the night away with those who are "not like us"?
Of course we wouldn't.
When we have down time and want to chill with friends.
Or when we have something we want to share with others.
When we want to celebrate- we want to choose carefully those who are allowed in on the celebrations.
We want to choose carefully those in whom we invest our time and our effort and our hospitality.
And that's not just about them perhaps on some future occasion returning the compliment and extending an invitation to us.
That's about who we would feel comfortable with.
And while, on the odd occasion, we might just push our boundaries a bit.
While we might now and again share with someone very different from us - that would be an exception rather than the norm.
We can blame our busy lives.
We can blame our lack of free time.
We can cite many reasons why we feel the need to guard our table fellowship and restrict it to those whose company we know we will enjoy.
Still, Jesus calls us to something different.

I wondered about Jesus' table companions in this gospel story today.
In our gospel today, Jesus is eating with one of the Pharisees - a leader - not one of the people on the fringes that we often see Jesus associating with - or perhaps the "leader of the Pharisees", because of his position, is as much on the fringe as the more obvious folk with whom Jesus eats - the tax collector, the prostitute, the leper...
Folk become isolated as much because of their status as because of their lack of status.
And Jesus manages to embrace either and all.
He could get down and dirty or he could scrub up nicely.
Either way, he would embrace those with whom he shared.
Not blending in - that was never Jesus' style.
But meeting folk everywhere, however lowly or mighty with the challenge of discipleship, the challenge of inclusivity, the challenges that being part of the Kingdom of God demands.

We gather this morning to share table fellowship.
And Jesus meets us here.
Not unobtrusively but right in our faces.
Jesus, in relationship with us, reads us all too well.
Jesus meets us here - with compassion, with challenge, with ridicule and with rebuke - whatever we need, is here in this table fellowship.
Sharing table fellowship deepens relationship.
Or it can if we allow it.
As we share today, may we find ourselves becoming more open to those around us.
More open to their pain, their joy, their companionship, their hidden depths, their shyness, their awkwardness, their familiarity and their strangeness.
May we give thanks for the stories we have shared and hold gently the stories that may never be spoken out loud.
And in all of this, may we find ourselves becoming more open to the ways of the Kingdom that Jesus sets before us.



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Standing up straight

Luke 13:10-17
Jesus Heals a Crippled Woman
Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the sabbath. And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day.” But the Lord answered him and said, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?” When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing.
When we read this passage today, we do so with no small measure of contempt. We are outraged at how the synagogue officials could be so short sighted, preferring their rules that kept folk down and in control to the freedom offered by Jesus.
We see immediately how their view of Gods word and of God's world is self limiting and confining.
And, when we've stopped being outraged by them, perhaps we might even pity them.
That they are so straight laced, so buttoned up. That they fail to see the extraordinary freedom that Jesus offers, mirroring the will of God- that all should know freedom from all that keeps us down, from all that stops us loving life in all its fulness.
It IS outrageous that anyone should want to be limiting or prescriptive with the amazing love and the incredible Spirit of God.
We do well to be outraged.
But wait a minute.
What about all those times that we behave just as the leaders of the synagogue did?
What about all those times when we find ourselves being inflexible?
When we insist on sticking to the letter of the law instead of the spirit?
What about all those conditions we impose that seek to limit the life giving, freedom bringing, full on loving gifts of healing that God holds out to us?
How often do we find ourselves saying...
You can't do that...
Or
You're not old enough or, indeed - you're too old
Or
That's not the way we do it...
Or
That would never work...
Or
How often do we find ourselves saying:
Been there, tried that, got the T shirt...
When we make these statements, aren't we being just as inflexible as the leaders of the synagogue who witnessed something good and lovely but couldn't allow it because, among other things, they weren't part of it.
So, before we condemn those leaders, lets step back and see the similarities in our actions today, clinging to all those rules that we hold dear.
And, when we catch ourselves about to proclaim - you can't do that, lets bite our tongues and appreciate all who contribute in all sorts of different ways to the work of the kingdom.
When we find ourselves excluding others because we have our own carefully worked out system, lets take a step back.
Who knows, we might find an even better way to get something done when we let others play too.
Jesus has just done something incredible when he cops all this flak.
He has just healed a woman who couldn't stand up straight for many years.
What's to get angry about in that?
But, as well as noting how uptight those around him get at him flouting rules, I also want to ask of this passage:
What about all those daughters and sons of Abraham who do not find healing from their ailments, who are not able to suddenly stand up straight.
The way this story is told, it would seem that you have to be able to stand up straight to praise God.
And we know that that is certainly not the truth.
How many folk do you know who are willing to praise God in all manner of trying circumstances.
How many people do you know who are constantly bent out of shape, physically and emotionally by all that life throws at them and yet continue to give God praise.
What is that that allows such people, even in the midst of difficulty, to consider themselves still beloved of God?
Perhaps it's the fact that as they look down, they don't only see the things that other folk discard and trample underfoot.
They are able to glimpse glory in the glaur.
To see reflected in the mud the image of stars.
To see shimmering on the puddles the outline of the rainbow.
Their perspective is different from ours but it is enhanced by their experience - whether that be the experience of trial or exclusion, of being invisible or discarded, whether it be the experience of pain or loss, the experience affords them depth and insight.
Our gospel today, though it speaks of physical appearance, takes us to a much deeper place.
A place where rules are broken, where conformity is cast aside.
A place where what you see is NOT what you get.
Because the love of God confounds expectation.
And allows miracles to happen.
Allows despair to become hope.
Allows dire straits to become places of possibility.
Allows the trials of life to become places of growth.
And allows those on whom we would look down or pity to teach us the most valuable lessons about life and about the transforming love of God.
We're very good at jumping to conclusions.
At deciding how things will turn out before we've even given them a chance.
At dismissing the possibility of being surprised by joy
We're bent down by rules and expectations.
Just as burdened as the Daughter of Abraham whom Jesus healed on the Sabbath.
And when we close ourselves off to new possibilities we limit that slow winding work of God.
Lets see ourselves today as those folk we shake our heads over - the leaders of the synagogue.
Lets acknowledge that our clinging to rules and our trampling on dreams consign us firmly into the same category, even when we think we're doing our best to protect the traditions of our faith.
God does not need our protection.
But even as we are chastened, lets give thanks that there will always be sons and daughters of Abraham such as the one in our gospel today who will challenge and confront, who will go on seeing the best in all things and who will always mirror for us the love of God that is not stifled by our smallness of heart.
And let us be prepared to listen to another perspective, to view things through a different lens and, in it all, to know our rule breaking God bringing freedom, bringing healing and bringing joy.
Thanks be to God.
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A gospel of grace

Luke 12:13-21
The Parable of the Rich Fool
Someone in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me.” But he said to him, “Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?” And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.” Then he told them a parable:“The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, ‘What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops? ’ Then he said, ‘I will do this:I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry. ’ But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be? ’ So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God.”
I've just spent a few days on Iona. A very restful few days. In many ways, Iona is just another Scottish island, with its white sandy beaches, subject to the vagaries of Scottish weather, whatever the season, and with its resident community fighting for survival, trying to preserve a fragile economy and ecology while yet welcoming visitors and offering lavish highland hospitality. But, in other ways, Iona is, for many people, a very special island, a place of spiritual retreat offering rest and renewal. A thin place - a place where the divide between heaven and earth is very fine indeed.
We stayed in the Episcopal Retreat Centre, where the day started with Holy Communion and ended with Evening Prayers, all of which seemed a fitting rhythm, a backdrop to the wonder of creation unfolding all around us - in the people, from all over the world, with whom we shared meals and stories and companionship and in the raw island beauty, birds and animals and wildflowers and tides and weather.
This simple rhythm of life and of love made me think of how busy and cluttered we allow life to become. And of how, in that clutter, much of what gives life is squeezed out.
And, instead of that cycle of prayer and worship giving rhythm to life, it becomes a fevered punctuation that we insert, often as an after thought or in the least appropriate moments, bringing a jarring discord rather than resolute harmony.
It's tempting to imagine that it is much easier on an island - especially one as breathtaking as Iona to give ourselves over to the simple things of life, to better appreciate creation and the God who is at the centre of all things, to de-clutter so that our focus is on the things, or, more likely, the people, who are central to our lives. But the idyll of remoteness brings its own pressures, not least the pressure to stay connected with life beyond the physical boundaries.
One night, over supper, we got talking about the grace of God. And of how we in the church, while we might ( though not always) proclaim that the amazing grace of God is free, we don't often live as though we are convinced.
Rather, we signal that the gospel to which we subscribe is a prosperity gospel - where we, the deserving people of God are rewarded for our labour and for just being generally good folks. We take pride in all that we have achieved. We acknowledge that, yes, God has a hand in that, but only because we are such worthy receivers of Gods grace.
And the problem is that, bad enough as that is as a premise, that kind of supposition, that acceptance of Gods goodness as being no more than our proper entitlement doesn't stop there but spills over into denying those in need any sharing of our deserved wealth - because clearly those not as fortunate as us are quite simply not as deserving. And we wouldn't want to share our hard earned desserts with those who do not find favour with God as we do.
That sounds pretty grim, doesn't it?
We'd be quick to deny that the gospel we live by is anything less than grace filled.
But our actions, or lack of them, speak louder than our words.
And our constant battle to acquire the symbols of status that show us to be favoured by God testify to something other than the gospel our words proclaim.
And he said to them, “Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”
So what does it take for us to shake off something instilled in us with our mother's milk? How can we strive less to own more?
How can we stop ourselves from judging and looking down on others whom God has not blessed as well as us?
Everyday I have the privilege of walking alongside many of you who have learned and are learning that lesson well.
Every day I have cause to thank God for you who show me a new way of being, who, even and especially in the face of hardship and adversity trust in God to carry you and, in the waiting and in the living, find cause to give thanks.
Those of you who do not shut God out but rest in Gods promises even and especially in the darkest of times.
Those of you for whom prayer and worship are not mere interruptions to the daily cycle but the very fibre of your being, as important as breathing, and just as instinctive.
Tides and seasons.
Living and loving.
Breathing and praying.
The rhythm of grace filled lives bathed in the grace of God, founded on the companionship of love.
Not based on earthly possessions but grounded in all the riches of God.
An abundance freely given to be freely shared.
Thanks be to God.
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