Sunday, 12 April 2015

Still risen!


Matthew 28:16-20
The Commissioning of the Disciples
Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

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

For the last few weeks we've been preparing ourselves for Easter.
Throughout Lent -  in our daily reflections, in our midweek services and in our weekly study groups.
Through Holy Week -  following Jesus journey toward the cross, gathering with the disciples in the upper room and, on Good Friday, watching the shadows lengthen as we reflected on Jesus death.
And then, last Sunday, Easter Day, we reclaimed the Alleluias and celebrated Jesus' resurrection.
We crept to the tomb with the women, spices in hand, and rejoiced to see the stone rolled away.
And we discovered that Jesus was no longer in the tomb but was going, ahead of his disciples, to Galilee.
Already ahead of us.
At large in the world today.
So that was last Sunday.
High energy after our measured pace through Lent.
An exhausting pinnacle of faith.
So,what's next?
Now that we've had a week to recover,what now?
Last week, we read of the women being told by the angel at the tomb to hurry and tell the disciples that Jesus had risen.
They went with great fear and joy.
As they rushed off to do as the angel said, Jesus met the women in the garden and he told them to tell the disciples to go to Galilee where he would meet them.
And this week's reading, tells of that reunion in Galilee.
Clearly the women did as Jesus told them - they spread the news and the disciples followed the Risen Christ to Galilee.
They met Jesus on the mountain.
And, we're told, the disciples worshiped Jesus - but some doubted.
It was a time for mixed emotions.
The women leave the garden, witnesses to the resurrection, in fear and joy.
The disciples meet Jesus in Galilee, on the mountain top and worship him - but some doubted.
Mixed emotions everywhere.
But Jesus commissions them all the same - to go and make disciples.
Jesus, having been betrayed, denied, abandoned by these same disciples, some of whom still doubt, yet commissions them to go and make disciples of all nations.
That has to be good news for us.
Good news and scary news.
Our doubts do not prevent us being commissioned by Jesus to go and make disciples.
Jesus, knowing that we too will betray him, deny him, doubt him, entrusts us with sharing the good news today.
Entrusts us to go and make disciples in our everyday.
And that is the what now of Easter.
It's moving from the tomb, leaving the sanctuary, knowing that Jesus has gone ahead of us into our everyday - and waits on us to take up his commission to make disciples.
How?
By living as Resurrection people.
By living as people who know that love is stronger than death.
By sharing that love in our everyday, with family, with friends, with neighbours and colleagues.
Even when we doubt.
And, in our sharing, being open enough to see that God continues to reveal Jesus risen among us - in the unlikeliest places.
It never fails to amaze - and to humble me - how often, when I think I'm faithfully sharing the gospel, that God reveals something new - those I imagine I'm teaching, or to whom I'm witnessing become my teachers in the lessons of God.
Perhaps that's just a part of Jesus command to " go to all nations". To do so requires an openness, openness, not just to what we have to share but to what we can learn from others.
I recently shared a story of my time working in shipyard chaplaincy.
(In fact it's a story included in a book that was released this week: There's a Woman in the Pulpit- stories from women in ministry in different parts of the world)
The point of the story is not to tell of my faithfulness in sharing the gospel in an inhospitable Lower Clyde shipyard, but to share how much I learned from the platers, the caulkers, the burners and the carpenters with whom I huddled round a brazier fire of a morning, drinking tea from filthy mugs.
On a couple of occasions, I got to bless a ship before she was launched - and this was what I wrote about the experience:
"And so, another liturgy was written on the hoof, informed by the need to minimise the time the ship waited on the well greased stocks, and another ministry of privilege was exercised and all manner of things was taught to a fledgling chaplain by men with calloused hands and choice phrases and hearts of gold all wrapped up in wisdom and grace."

That great Commission, to go to all nations and make disciples, is not simply about us taking what we have and passing it on to others.
It is about us being open to all the facets of the gospel that God reveals to us in others, even and especially, those to whom we think we are called to  minister.
Christ continues to go ahead of us and to meet us on the way, asking us to be open to his risen presence in all whom we encounter.

Easter is not the end of the journey.
It is just the beginning.
And, even in our weariness, even with our doubts, the Risen Christ entrusts us with being and with making disciples.
And that's the work, not of a moment, but of a lifetime.
Here is a reflection I wrote last Easter about the lasting effects of the Resurrection:

It trickles in slowly
Just like the soft light of dawn
It's not the sudden trumpet fanfare
that we have made it
but a slow, gentle unfurling.
As Easter creeps forward
its touch slowly awakening
all in its path
the effect is gradual
measured
long lasting.
Even when the dawn of Easter
startles
provoking excitement
it is the calm that is left in its wake
that remains
the warmth and the joy
that continue to infuse
and change lives.
And it is the soft memory
of eternal promises
that persists
even when night has come again.
Easter - not an all at once
life changing moment
But a slowly dawning
gift for eternity
a treasure
with layers
upon layers 
of wrapping
to be gently unveiled
and savoured
in the fullness of time.

Christ is still risen.
He is risen indeed.
Alleluia!

Monday, 23 March 2015

Palms and Passion

Some reflective resources for Palm Sunday

Hold on to the Hosannas

Let’s stay with the Hosannas for a while
Let’s let them keep on ringing in our ears
Hosanna!
Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord
Instead of rushing on to hear the cries
that came later in the week
Let’s stay with the Hosannas
Maybe once we’ve heard those
in a new way
will we be ready
to make the rest of the journey
A journey that was hastened
and given new purpose
by those Hosannas
For those Hosannas were not
simply the innocent cries
of palm branch waving children
Those Hosannas were the war cries of adults
tired of the oppression
of occupying forces
Those hosannas
were the hopeful cries
of a nation seeking liberation.
Those Hosannas
were an investment of hope
in one they thought would deliver.
Those Hosannas
that we have sanitised  over the years
rang out in clear insurrection
sealing the fate
of one who rode on a donkey.
so, let’s stay with the Hosannas
Let’s wrest them from the lips of children
and allow them to ring in our ears
and spew from our mouths
as a call to action
a call to justice
a call to love.
Let’s stay with the Hosannas
even as we journey
with the Christ
who carried those Hosannas
all the way to the cross
and ensured their fulfilment
as the justice and love of God.
Let’s stay with the Hosannas.

The weeks have rolled on
The weeks have rolled on
those austere, bleak weeks
of our Lenten observance.
We’ve journeyed with Jesus through the wilderness
felt the rub of sand on our feet as we traversed the desert
and again, as we emerged with him on the shore at Galilee.
We’ve marvelled at the things he did
and cringed at the things he said
one moment proud to step out beside him
the next, embarrassed to know him.
He’s been wild, free, tormented and cursed
sometimes all at the same time.
Oh we’ve had laughs,
laughs that burst our guts as he burst the disciples’ nets,
We’ve had our party times with him too,
even through this season of penance
How could we not party when we saw him eating, drinking,
making merry?
So often there was a lightness in his step
a freshness that lifted us up
We’ve listened to his stories, marvelled at his miracles
Questioned our living
in the light of the way he showed us
And that’s all to the good.
But sometimes he got a bit heavy,
nudged us out of our comfort zones
challenged us to respond to his words
and not just passively listen,
goaded us to be different –
For the sake of the kingdom he said.
What kingdom is the question.
He’s said some tough things,
upset a lot of people
He’ll be lucky to survive with his life
never mind build a kingdom.
There’s definitely a change in the atmosphere now.
All the talk recently has been bizarre
Of death and darkness and destruction
But also talk of hope and newness.
The two simply don’t go together.
Still, the mood is changing
It looks like we’re going to have the party of all parties
And then, who knows?


Becoming like children
We imagine Jesus riding into Jerusalem
surrounded by palm branch waving children
surrounded by exuberance
and infectious laughter
shouts of greeting
cajoling and cheering.
There is a freshness in the welcome of children
a candour that is not subdued
or diminished
but comes from the heart.
bringing warmth, promoting acceptance
with is no expectation of return
but simply a desire
to spread the love.
We imagine those greetings containing familiarity
arising not out of disrespect
but out of the ability
to naturally honour and cherish
every relationship
deeming all as worthy of nurture
and investment.
We imagine Jesus surrounded by children.
The adults would have been much too reserved,
too inhibited
to be so vulgar
in their welcome.
Palm branch waving
and jacket tossing
are not for sophisticated grown ups.
We leave that nonsense to the children.
And most of the time that’s OK.
Most of the time, we are quite relieved
to keep our feelings to ourselves
to remain tight lipped
cool and distant.
But, on occasion,
wouldn’t it be great
just to throw caution to the wind
and let our exuberance escape
even just for a little while?
And what better day than this fools day
when we celebrate the absurdity
of a king riding a donkey
into Jerusalem.
Palm Sunday – a day to become like children.

What of the children

What of those children lining the streets.
Caught up in the adults’ excitement.
A festival or feast day for them.
A family day out.
With a special picnic.
For once they could be noisy in the presence of adults.
Because the adults were being noisy too.
For once they weren’t being told to simmer down.
They’d probably rarely seen adults so uninhibited.
Letting their hair down.
Throwing their heads back in unbridled mirth. The children had known from the beginning this Jesus was a hero.
It was great that the adults had finally caught on.
All those times they’d been in trouble for staying out beyond supper because they’d
followed Jesus around.
Now maybe their folks would finally understand.
There was just something about this guy.
But then Sunday was over.
And the week stretched ahead.
Things went quiet.
Eerily quiet.
There was something wrong.
It wasn’t just the anti-climax that often follows excitement.
This was an an unnatural quiet, a quiet that signaled something not good.
The adults were whispering again.
In little groups.
Closing up as soon as the children appeared.
They were used to adult’s secrets.
But there was something different about these secrets.
They felt bad.
And so the week dragged on.
It was almost a relief when the crowds gathered again.
Although it was ugly, at least it was a resolution of sorts.
And how ugly.
How could folk turn so quickly and so completely?
Is that what happens to adults?
They follow each other.
All good together.
And all bad together just as easily.
What happened to those partying folk?
Now they were yelling at the children, and yelling at each other.
And especially yelling at Jesus.
Crucify him.
Crucify him.
What had he done in a week to so turn their minds.
From hero worship.
To a blood thirsty rabble.
The children would never understand the vagaries of adult minds.


Fools Erand
It started with the search for a colt
a fools errand for the disciples
It ended with a parade
a clown's procession for the common people.
For Jesus used that colt
to laugh in the face of the authorities
taunting them
flexing his muscles of influence and popularity.
He really should have been keeping a low profile.
But, throwing caution to the wind,
he took himself into the city
and, enjoying, momentarily, the protection of the crowd
he pushed his enemies over the edge.
And he knew it.
He looked around, saw it was late, and left.
Late on so many levels.
Late in the day.
Late in the journey.
Too late for him.
His boats were now burned
and the salvaged timber already fashioned
into a cross.
A simple request: Find me a colt
set in motion
a whole series
of truths and dares
of arrest and trial
of betrayal
and denial.
His fate was sealed
and so was our redemption
as palms dissolve into passion.
A fool's errand indeed!


Did you know?
When you sent your disciples to borrow that colt, did you know? 
Did you know that, as you rode on its back, the crowds would line the streets to greet you? 
Did you know the children would wave branches? 
You said that, if the crowds hadn’t shouted their welcome, the stones along the way would have called out in praise? 
So what was it all about? 
Some giant ego trip? 
A display of your popularity? 
Or did you have in your mind all along that prophecy that said that the king would ride on a donkey? 
Was it a giant political statement? 
A king without all the paraphernalia?
Or were you just plain stupid? 
I mean it couldn’t have escaped your notice that you’d really ticked off the authorities. 
Doing the kinds of things you did. 
Healing on the sabbath, encouraging folk to question their rulers. 
Even upsetting the economy by questioning their taxes. 
Why, if you had to be in the city - why didn’t you just skulk in quietly? 
Why the entourage? 
What part of - “they’re out to get you” did you not understand? 
Or was it that you’d played their game long enough. 
Now it was time to get the inevitable over with. If you were going to die, then let’s get on with it.
And as those crowds greeted you like a hero, were you able to enjoy it? 
Were you able to bask in their praises and forget, just for a while, that by the end of the week those same voices would be baying for your blood - and those same hands, palms raised in welcome and salute, would become clenched fists, demanding your execution?
(Pause)

And don’t you know, Jesus, that we would never do that?
We would never sing your praises one minute and call for your demise the next.
Not us who gather week in week out, in our Sunday best, singing your praise, reading your word.
No fickleness in us.
None of that going with the flow, following the crowd, saving our own necks.
Not us.
While that crowd were gunning for you, we would have been defending you, challenging them.
We would have been just as vehement in our defence of you.
We would have put our heads above the parapet and stuck up for you.
We would!
We would!
Honest.
Well, Ok then, maybe we would have calmed our jets a bit.
I mean there would be no point in us all coming to a sad end.
It would be daft to follow you that far, stick our necks out so much that we lost them.
But we would at least have whispered “Leave him alone”.
Or, to be on the safe side, we would have kept quiet.
Stood in silence, while all around us, your fate was being sealed.
We would have stood our ground, quietly, as your execution papers were drawn up.
Ours would have been a silent protest.
That’s effective you know - standing quiet while there is raging all around us.
We would have stuck it out, quietly.
Don’t we make you proud.
Isn’t our loyalty and bravery just what you need?




Donkey Riding King

Following a donkey riding king
presents us with challenges
we may not have signed up for
The challenge of humility
Of taking our place up front
in the knowledge
that that is where we're called to be
not because we are God's gift.
but because of God's gift
Gods gift of love
about which we cannot be silent
Gods gift of love
that we have to model up front

Following a donkey riding king
presents us with challenges
we may not have signed up for
The challenge of subversion
Finding ways to quietly
and peacefully
subvert what others perceive
as necessary evils
so that justice can prevail.
Quiet subversion
that brings love to the fore.

Following a donkey riding king
presents us with challenges
we may not have signed up for
The challenge of humour
Finding humour 
even in our darkest moments
laughing with the God
who transforms
tears of sadness
or frustration
into belly laughs of joy

Following a donkey riding king
presents us with challenges
we may not have signed up for
The challenge of uncertainty
Following even though
we do not know
how or when it is going to end
Following even when we do know
how or when it is going to end
because in all the uncertainty
is the promise
that God's love will be enough


Following a donkey riding king
presents us with challenges
we may not have signed up for
The challenge of compassion
being so moved
as Jesus was
about the plight of the world
that we can do no other
than do whatever it takes
to make a difference

Following a donkey riding king
presents us with challenges
we may not have signed up for
The challenge of love
that makes us want to serve
And, in serving God and each other,
finding that love
really does change everything
and allows us
to meet all these challenges
head on
following our donkey riding king.

Who were these people?

The city was busy.
Teeming with Passover revellers.
Why did they all feel the need
to come and welcome Jesus?
We were hoping, for once, to keep a low profile.
Tired of attracting big crowds wherever we went with Jesus
we thought, at least, we’d have a quiet Passover
Thought everyone would be too busy
with their own family preparations
to take notice of ours.
And it was also time that
Jesus got out of the limelight
We could tell the authorities didn’t like it
they were getting really antsy
It wasn’t just Jesus
though he kept attracting unwelcome attention
but, all the people, it seemed
were getting pretty feisty
and the authorities were getting nervous
clamping down on the most minor infractions.
Definitely NOT the time to be processing into the city
even on a donkey!
It was only a matter of time
before a ban would be imposed
on public gatherings
and demonstrations
the kind that had been breaking out everywhere recently.
So we’d hoped to enter the city quietly
to keep below the radar.
But, before we got anywhere near,
we could hear the shouts of the crowd
not angry, insurrectionist shouts
but the shouts of revellers
out for a picnic.
Maybe they were hoping for more miracles
a healing or two
or to be fed some more of those amazing stories
Jesus seemed to
make up as he went along.
Whatever they came looking for
they were not disappointed
There was Jesus
seemingly innocuous
riding on a donkey
but the people saw it
as something different altogether.
They always seemed to read into everything Jesus did
Saw mockery, even subversion
to the political era of oppression.
Why was it Jesus they flocked to?
Why turn their attention on him.
surely that day, the people signed his death warrant
as surely as if they had shouted
Crucify him!





Sunday, 1 March 2015

Undeserving

Matthew 20:1-16
The Labourers in the Vineyard
​“For the kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire labourers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the labourers for the usual daily wage, he sent them into his vineyard. When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace; and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around; and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the labourers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received the usual daily wage. Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received the usual daily wage. And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage? Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Live long and prosper.
Those immortal words with which Leonard Nimoy, much loved Mr Spock of StarTrek fame signed off on life: Live long and prosper.
Isn't that what most of us look for in life - a long and prosperous life?
A life filled with meaning.
The kind of life that huge swathes of our society today are denied.
So much of a person's value is equated with possession, with lifestyle, with occupation, with status.
And when so many in our communities struggle to find work, struggle to put food on the table,
as the need for food banks and homeless charities grows ever greater, that ability to live long and prosper is diminished.
In our gospel parable this morning, we find folk looking for some kind of meaning in life.
Looking to be chosen to work.
Looking for a fair days wage for a fair days work.
In Jesus' story, some folk were hired in the early morning and set to work.
Some were hired a bit later in the day.
And some later still.
But, when it was time to pay the labourers for their work, everyone received the same wage.
So those who had worked all day received the same as those who had only worked an hour.
Of course those who had put in more hours were outraged.
And that could have been avoided.
By all accounts, the landowner was affluent enough to give the workers he didn't hire in the early morning a handout. 
He chose, instead, to give them dignity - AND a living wage.
They were glad to be chosen.
And would have been happy with a proportionate wage.
But they got much more than they could have imagined.
They had the dignity of being employed and of being well rewarded.
We can celebrate their good fortune even as we are scandalised with those who worked a full day.
The trouble was not that those who worked a full day were cheated.
They got the reward they had been promised.
But, when they compared what they received with what others received, that's when it became a problem.
And that's something most of us do often.
Compare ourselves with others.
And, when we compare, we also judge.
We judge whether others are more or less deserving than us.
And though we might actually be doing OK.
Though we might actually be very fortunate.
When we compare ourselves to others, others whom we judge as being less deserving, yet who seem better off than us, we feel hard done by.
In Jesus' parable, those who'd worked all day in the vineyard decided that those who hadn't been there as long as they had didn't deserve to be paid the same as them - even though they got what they were due.
The workers who were brought to the vineyard early felt that being involved longer than others gave them more entitlement.
And they resented it when folk were brought to work in the vineyard later and received the same reward.
Does that sound familiar?
Does that sound like something that might happen in our church community?
Those who have worked here all their days receive the same reward as those who have just started.
God welcomes all.
God values all.
God promises all the same reward.
And so we can turn this parable into an allegory.
And work out where on the scale of the deserving we would place ourselves.

But, along with the story of Leonard Nimoy's death this weekend, another story was doing the rounds.
The story of a dress.
This dress.
What colour does the dress appear to you?
Who can see white and gold?
Who can see blue and black?
This bizarre story was filling up folks news feeds because folk could not agree on the colour.
And there were all sorts of arguments and explanations.
Here is another picture of the dress.
Apparently, because of the colours involved our eyes and brains process the image differently, and so we end up with conflicting images.
And so, two people, looking at the same image, see vastly different things.

We can view Jesus' parable this morning from vastly different perspectives.
From the perspective of the labourers, all of whom were treated equally, but some more equally than others.
 We might be the ones resenting those who came late.
Or we might be congratulating ourselves on having been well rewarded for little effort.
Or we can view this parable from the perspective of the landowner.
Who chose to be generous.
Who chose to give all the labourers the same reward, no matter how long they worked.
Who saw folk who needed to know that they were valued - every bit as much as others.
Who restored self esteem.
When we view it from the perspective of the landowner.
When we appreciate the generosity he showed, the dignity he gave and the right he had to make those choices.
It helps us to be less judgmental.
To be less outraged.
Looking at the parable from the landowners perspective takes us out of making comparisons.
And helps us appreciate the nature of grace.
The grace of one who is generous to all.
None of us are any more - or less - deserving than others.
God does not judge us by time served.
The grace of God is not something we've earned.
It is a gift that God gives, because God is God.
And it is in the nature of God to be generous.

Let's ask ourselves this morning:
Can we take our place at Christ's table, knowing ourselves all equally welcome?
And can we make space for others, those who have worked for God for some time, and those who have found their way here more recently?
Can we come to the table knowing that God values each of us.
And offers all of us unlimited grace, ours for the taking.
The kingdom of heaven is like...
May we all live long, prosper - and inspire others around us to do the same

Wednesday, 4 February 2015

Healing and wholeness



Mark 1:29-34
Jesus Heals Many at Simon’s House
As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told him about her at once. He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them.
That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered around the door. And 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.

In the gospel of Mark, we often see Jesus enabling people to blend into their communities. Jesus acknowledges folk ostracized because of perceived shortcomings, be they physical, moral, or spiritual, and brings them back into community. For Jesus that was a costly exercise. It cost him energy and street cred. Often Jesus, in their place, took on their marginalization so that his physical, moral, and spiritual well- being was called into question. And there were few opportunities for him to recharge. When Jesus healed Simon’s mother- in- law, word soon got around and, it seems, by suppertime, the backyard was full of those seeking healing. Jesus was simply unable to move around without attracting much unwanted attention. The “Everlasting God” of Isaiah specializes in bringing the powerless to the fore and in giving courage to those who are afraid. Those who weary are called by name and given strength. Their eyes are opened to the reserves that reside within. 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. Discipleship then becomes an enabling ministry in which people are alerted to their own strengths and encouraged to experience the wholeness that is God’s will for all people.

Sunday, 25 January 2015

Beloved and Blessed

Matthew 5:1-20
The Beatitudes
​When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
“Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
Salt and Light
“You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot.
“You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.
The Law and the Prophets
“Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

The Narrative Lectionary, the cycle of Scripture readings that we've been following since September, allows us to catch something of the broad sweep of the Bible, as we have it today. 
It helps us put the stories in some kind of context, as we pick up the pace of the stories of God's people: Creation stories, stories of pilgrimage, of turf wars, of judges, Kings, prophets, poets and teachers. 
We spent the autumn meandering through the drama of the Old Testament.
And now, still in Epiphany, we've moved from these dramatic Old Testament stories to the immediacy of the gospel. 
Each of the gospel writers retold the story of Jesus' birth, ministry, death and resurrection in different ways, depending on their particular take on events, their particular interests and context. Matthew's gospel, that we're following this year is very concerned to root the events of Jesus' ministry in the tradition of ancient scriptures, constantly referencing the prophets to lend some authenticity and authority to Jesus' life and teaching.
We know well that many of the stories in the Bible are not pretty or comforting.
They don't show folk in their best light.
But what they do show is a God who did not abandon flawed human beings, a God who kept inviting people into relationship.
And, as we move further into the gospel of Matthew over these next few weeks, we see God continuing to draw us close, to reveal new ways that we can be God's people.
And so the story of the history of Gods people continues today, as God goes on, holding out for us the possibility of relationship.
And so the broad sweep of the Narrative Lectionary, as well as helping us to  grasp the drama of the journey of God's people through history, also helps us to recognise that we are, today, part of God's continuing story.
We are the people of God for today.
So,what of these Beatitudes that we read today?
Some of them seem quite familiar.
Some of them we've heard oft quoted.
Some of them we've probably even quoted ourselves.
But what seems to have been lost in the translation is the shock that these Beatitudes would have been for those who first heard them.

Let's listen to them again, this time from The Message version:
Matthew 5:1-20
You're Blessed
​ When Jesus saw his ministry drawing huge crowds, he climbed a hillside. Those who were apprenticed to him, the committed, climbed with him. Arriving at a quiet place, he sat down and taught his climbing companions. This is what he said:
"You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.
"You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
"You're blessed when you're content with just who you are—no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought.
"You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.
"You're blessed when you care. At the moment of being 'carefull,' you find yourselves cared for.
"You're blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
"You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family.
"You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God's kingdom.
"Not only that—count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don't like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always gotten into this kind of trouble.
Salt and Light
"Let me tell you why you are here. You're here to be salt-seasoning that brings out the God-Flavours of this earth. If you lose your saltiness, how will people taste godliness? You've lost your usefulness and will end up in the garbage.
"Here's another way to put it: You're here to be light, bringing out the God-Colours in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We're going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I'm putting you on a light stand. Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.
Completing God's Law
"Don't suppose for a minute that I have come to demolish the Scriptures—either God's Law or the Prophets. I'm not here to demolish but to complete. I am going to put it all together, pull it all together in a vast panorama. God's Law is more real and lasting than the stars in the sky and the ground at your feet. Long after stars burn out and earth wears out, God's Law will be alive and working.
"Trivialise even the smallest item in God's Law and you will only have trivialised yourself. But take it seriously, show the way for others, and you will find honour in the kingdom. Unless you do far better than the Pharisees in the matters of right living, you won't know the first thing about entering the kingdom.

For Jesus' listeners, the Beatitudes made no sense at all.
For folk who believed that you reaped what you sowed, that blessing came to those whom God favoured, to hear Jesus seemingly randomly bless people was such a contrary notion.
The Beatitudes conflicted with every norm and tradition that folk knew, so radical were they.
But totally in line with the radical good news that Matthew is recording.
Two weeks ago we affirmed the love of God for each of us in baptism, naming us beloved children.
Last week, as we read of Jesus being tempted in the wilderness, we reminded ourselves that whatever temptations come our way, still God cherishes us as beloved children.
And, today, we read of Jesus calling folk blessed. 
These Beatitudes are not a list of conditions.
It's not a contract that Jesus is setting out.
On a mountain, surrounded by his disciples, Jesus states the facts.
Starkly and simply.
You are blessed.
Not - you will be blessed if you  fall into a particular category, if you undergo suffering, if you are bereaved, if you are persecuted, if you sacrifice enough.
None of that.
Just - You are blessed.
It is simply a way of being in relationship with God revealed in Jesus.
You are blessed.
Whatever our circumstances, God sees us and God blesses us.
That message was a huge surprise to those who heard Jesus say it.
To hear that those who were usually invisible were in God's sights.
To hear that God blessed the lowly and the lonely, those whom others barely noticed.
To hear themselves described as blessed.
Was as shocking then as it is now.
Today God's story continues.
And we, here, are included in that story.
Not just included.
In fact we help to write the next chapter.
We are the people in God's sights today.
Known and loved and blessed.
We don't look at Scripture to determine where God is in our story today.
What we find is that we are included in God's story.
Beloved children.
Resisting when the world conspires to tell us differently.
Beloved and blessed.
And those are just for starters.
Three weeks in Matthew's gospel and we encounter major themes in God's relationship with us.
And are invited to be part of the next  instalment, invited, in relationship with God to be a part of God's story.
To allow our status as blessed, beloved children to infect the world.
To be salt and light,  for all the world.
Writing the story alongside God.
Are we prepared, today, to live into our blessedness?
To take up our mantle as God's people today, and, knowing ourselves beloved and blessed to see with God's eyes.
Noticing those who are so often overlooked and seeing them as also beloved and blessed.
Not looking for potential.
But celebrating what is.
The Beatitudes are not a statement of intent.
Not even a statement of promise.
The Beatitudes state what is.
You and I, today, are blessed.
Thanks be to God.


Sunday, 7 December 2014

For such a time as this


Esther 4
Esther Agrees to Help the Jews
​When Mordecai learned all that had been done, Mordecai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes, and went through the city, wailing with a loud and bitter cry; he went up to the entrance of the king’s gate, for no one might enter the king’s gate clothed with sackcloth. In every province, wherever the king’s command and his decree came, there was great mourning among the Jews, with fasting and weeping and lamenting, and most of them lay in sackcloth and ashes.
When Esther’s maids and her eunuchs came and told her, the queen was deeply distressed; she sent garments to clothe Mordecai, so that he might take off his sackcloth; but he would not accept them. Then Esther called for Hathach, one of the king’s eunuchs, who had been appointed to attend her, and ordered him to go to Mordecai to learn what was happening and why. Hathach went out to Mordecai in the open square of the city in front of the king’s gate, and Mordecai told him all that had happened to him, and the exact sum of money that Haman had promised to pay into the king’s treasuries for the destruction of the Jews. Mordecai also gave him a copy of the written decree issued in Susa for their destruction, that he might show it to Esther, explain it to her, and charge her to go to the king to make supplication to him and entreat him for her people.
Hathach went and told Esther what Mordecai had said. Then Esther spoke to Hathach and gave him a message for Mordecai, saying, “All the king’s servants and the people of the king’s provinces know that if any man or woman goes to the king inside the inner court without being called, there is but one law—all alike are to be put to death. Only if the king holds out the golden sceptre to someone, may that person live. I myself have not been called to come in to the king for thirty days.” When they told Mordecai what Esther had said, Mordecai told them to reply to Esther, “Do not think that in the king’s palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews. For if you keep silence at such a time as this, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another quarter, but you and your father’s family will perish. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” Then Esther said in reply to Mordecai, “Go, gather all the Jews to be found in Susa, and hold a fast on my behalf, and neither eat nor drink for three days, night or day. I and my maids will also fast as you do. After that I will go to the king, though it is against the law; and if I perish, I perish.” Mordecai then went away and did everything as Esther had ordered him.

Esther is one of those books of the Bible tucked away among the books of the Prophets. A small book, often little known and little read.
It tells the story of a young Jewish orphan, brought up by her cousin, and taken into captivity by the King of Babylon.
Esther became part of the king's harem and went on to become queen.
She alerted the king to a plot to assassinate him and thus saved his life but earned a few enemies in the process.
One of the king's advisors was determined to destroy the Jews who lived in the kingdom, so he started to spread stories about how they disobeyed the King's laws in favour of the God whom they worshipped and managed to persuade the king to issue a decree to kill them.
The part of Esther's story that we read today was an elaborate tale of how Esther managed, at great personal risk, to get the Kings attention so that she could alert him to the consequences of his proposed action. While the king might have easily decreed that the Jewish people in the kingdom should be killed, he wasn't prepared to see Esther, his queen killed. And so the general became specific. And a people that, up until that point had seemed of no consequence to the king, was given a very human face - that of Esther, a young Jewish woman. Esther and her people were spared - but at great personal risk for Esther - she risked death by attracting the attention of the king without being summoned. When she wavered over the risk she was about to take, her cousin, Mordecai, spoke these words: Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” 
There is much more to the story of Esther,so much packed into a small story. Unfortunately, while the Jewish people were spared and granted the right to defend themselves and to take up arms, they abused those privileges and exacted revenge on those who held them captive, sadly a story that is repeated time and again throughout history, where those granted freedom become the oppressors, sadly a story that we are al ,too familiar with today.
But, for this morning, I want to focus on that more hopeful phrase, spoken to Esther to encourage her to take a risk: Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this.” 
And,on this second Sunday of Advent, I'd like us to consider the question - to what are we being called today?
What risks are we being called to take to make a difference?
How can we make the general specific?
What is God's plan for us - that unique purpose that only you can fulfil?
This second Sunday in Advent is also vocations Sunday in the Church of Scotland, when all of us are encouraged to prayerfully consider that particular role to which God calls us. How will we serve God in the church and in the community, in our homes, in our schools and in our work places? 
What does serving God look like in our lives.
To what specifically is God calling us today?
As you know, one of my roles is as a National assessor in the Church of Scotland, interviewing and assessing those who offer themselves for ministry.
And one of the most wonderful aspects of that role, is hearing the story of some one's call.
Hearing how an inkling gives way to a niggle that grows until it cannot be ignored.
Hearing how God speaks in so many different ways to convict folk to respond to this sense of calling - through word, through worship, through other people, through opportunity, through changed circumstances, through everyday life, through joy and adversity - God uses so many ways to get our attention.
We are not all called to ministry of word and sacrament, but we are all called - to serve God in the church and, perhaps even more importantly, to serve God in the world today.
For such a time as this.
Our world needs people to step up and to speak out.
For such a time as this.
Our world needs us to take risks, putting ourselves in the line of fire, to make a difference for those whose voices are not heard, whose struggles are ignored.
For such a time as this.
You and I are called to speak out against the injustice that pervades our society today.
For such a time as this.
We are called to use our position of privilege to benefit others.
Whatever struggles we endure every day, most of us have food on our tables and a roof over our heads.
However impotent we might feel, we are not silenced or persecuted - our children are not murdered-  because of our race or colour.
For such a time as this.
In this second week of Advent, as we prepare to celebrate the light that came into the world, the light that darkness could not overcome, we are called for such a time as this to carry that light into our community and into all the world.
We are called to live into the privilege that we have to call for justice and to work to change a system that denies people basic human rights and that keeps people in poverty and fear.
For such a time as this, you and I are called to speak up and not keep silent and then to step up so that our actions match our words.
For such a time as this - you and I are called by God.
This Vocations Sunday, this Advent, may we respond to God and live into our calling as the people of God for such a time as this.

For the glory of God, Amen.

Thursday, 20 November 2014

Receiving


Jeremiah 7:1-7
" Jeremiah Proclaims God’s Judgment on the Nation
​ The word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: Stand in the gate of the Lord’s house, and proclaim there this word, and say, Hear the word of the Lord, all you people of Judah, you that enter these gates to worship the Lord. Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Amend your ways and your doings, and let me dwell with you in this place. Do not trust in these deceptive words: “This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord.”
For if you truly amend your ways and your doings, if you truly act justly one with another, if you do not oppress the alien, the orphan, and the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not go after other gods to your own hurt, then I will dwell with you in this place, in the land that I gave of old to your ancestors forever and ever."

On this, The Reign of Christ Sunday, the last Sunday of the Christian Year before we set out on an Advent journey, we pause to think again about the notion of kingship as Jesus modelled it.
Often the reading on this Sunday is the Matthew 25 passage -
Matthew 25:35-40
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.’
These verses underpin the work of Broken Chains.
A ministry that reaches out to the least of these.
In our reading this morning, the prophet Jeremiah urges us to amend our ways. And to truly act justly with one another.
This, after cautioning us not to hide away in our sanctuaries. 
Spending time with God's people, hearing God's word, singing God's praise is not an end in itself. The time we spend here week by week, motivates us to go and serve God in our world.
But more than that, listening to God's word reminds us that, as well as being able to serve others, we can allow others to serve us.
Those on the margins of society today aren't there just so we can reach out and feel good about ourselves, feel that we're better Christians because we change the lives of others.
People existing on the margins of our society today are there because we subscribe to a system that is flawed at best and, often, is broken. While it may not be intentional on our part, our life style and our affluence is won at a cost to others. Spending time with those who have to turn to food banks. Spending time with those who have sought alternative life styles to help them cope with an unfair society teaches us some valuable lessons and reminds us of what is important in life.
So often, when we set out to "truly act justly" we find ourselves ministered to in ways we had never imagined.
But that goes against the grain.
"It is more blessed to give than to receive" has been drummed into us from early days that we've almost forgotten how to let others minister to us.
We're so used to being strong that we avoid any sign of weakness.
Yet God minsters to us through those we'd least expect when we own our vulnerability and when we open ourselves to the gifts of others.
Truly acting justly with one another!
May God show us this week how to minister and how to be ministered to.
For the glory of God.
Amen.