Sermon, Sun 24 June: 'That sinking feeling'

Rembrandt's 'The Storm on the Sea of Galilee'

This week's 'Food for the journey' during the week:
Read through the Gospel passage slowly. Sit a while with Rembrandt's painting 

and perhaps imagine what being on the boat was like. Where are you in the picture?
What might you say to Jesus in the midst of the storm?

If it's helpful, use the prayer at the bottom of the sermon to assist your personal reflections.

READINGS: Ps 107:1-3, 23-32; 2 Cor 6:1-13; Mark 4:35-41

SERMON 

Let’s pray: May the words of my mouth, and the thoughts of all our hearts, 

be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

I may have mentioned at some point before, the custom in some parts the United States 

of churches putting the titles of sermons on their noticeboards outside. 

One such church, advertising morning and evening worship, had this rather ‘interesting’ 

combination of sermon titles:

Morning worship: ‘Jesus in the boat’

Evening worship: ...‘Looking for Jesus’ 

Oh, dear.

I did wonder if the Galilean Navy might be involved in that particular search – 

but the sign did serve as a useful lesson: 

to be careful when thinking up sermon titles!

Our readings today, in different ways, feature storms.

Listen to the words of the Psalmist –

and as you do, think just how closely they mirror our Gospel reading.

The Psalmist says:

Some went out on the sea in ships;

    They saw the works of the Lord,

    his wonderful deeds in the deep.

For he spoke and stirred up a tempest

    that lifted high the waves.

They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths; -

you can almost see the great rolling waves there, yes? –

    in their peril their courage melted away.

They reeled and staggered like drunkards;

    they were at their wits’ end.

Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,

    and he brought them out of their distress.

He stilled the storm to a whisper;

    the waves of the sea were hushed.

They were glad when it grew calm,

    and he guided them to their desired haven.

You can see the parallels between the Psalm and the account 

of the disciples in the boat on the Sea of Galilee.

When I was thinking about these readings, my mind wandered to the movie ‘Jaws’ –

bear with me!

There’s a scene towards the end of the movie when the Sherriff and his side-kick 

head out on a boat with a hardened, very experienced fisherman: a professional shark hunter. 

They’re determined to catch and kill the Great White shark that has been menacing 

the small beach community. Off they go, out to sea. 

Barrels of shark bait are thrown overboard to attract the great sharp-toothed beastie. 

It’s not long until the shark shows up.

And when it does, they’re all awe-struck – this shark is enormous.

And the Sherriff, looking at this freakishly huge shark, 

utters one of the great, iconic lines of the film, saying:

‘I think we’re gonna need a bigger boat.’

After a lot of suspense and some pretty terrifying and gruesome scenes in the ensuing battle, 

eventually the monster is killed – 

having managed to eat the skipper and destroy the boat in the process.

Let me tell you, as someone who grew up in and around boats, 

after seeing that wretched movie it took me a very long time not to get twitchy 

every time I went out on the water. 

The fear was real!

‘We’re gonna need a bigger boat...’ 

I wonder, if the disciples, in the midst of the freakishly big storm that had 

come suddenly upon them, well...I wonder if any of them might have had the same thought? 

These guys are experienced sailors: 

they know the conditions like the back of their hand;

they know their way around a boat;

but suddenly they’re all at sea: literally and metaphorically.

There they are, in the midst of a great storm – 

as our text says ‘a furious storm’ –

a tempest so mighty that it lifted high the waves and caused their tiny boat to be caught up 

in waves so high that they felt as if they were being carried to the heavens ...

and, what goes up, must come down:

so from the heights, they found themselves being hurled to what seemed the very 

depths of the sea. 

Terrifying.

They find themselves battling the elements

find themselves battling for their very lives.

As with the Psalm:

in their peril, their courage melted away;

they reeled and staggered like drunkards;

they were at their wits’ end.

Fear.

As you read the account, you can almost smell it.

It was the end of what had probably been 

quite a long day.

Jesus had been teaching –

telling stories about the kingdom of God –

using simple, every day examples to connect with the crowds who followed him 

wherever he went.

The kingdom was like ...scattering seeds and letting them grow as they would;

The kingdom was like the tiny mustard seed: 

how resilient it was, and how it seemed to sprout everywhere...

There were other stories, too, about lamps on stands.

By evening, it was time for a change. 

Rather than waiting until the dawn, Jesus says to the disciples:

‘let us go to the other side.’

Nothing in our gospel account gives us any indication why Jesus seems to be in such a hurry:

it’s safer to travel by day, he could wait overnight;

and, he goes ‘just as he is’ – no extra supplies, no change of clothes.

‘Let us go to the other side.’

And so they make ready.

On this side of the sea Jesus and the disciples are on home ground – 

they know the area, the culture, share the same religion.

To go to the other side, meant to go to Gentile territory.

Going to the other side meant change and moving out of their comfort zone.

Heading out from the shore,

they find that they've moved very much out of their comfort zone

before they even reached the other side.

But wait a minute.

Even in these early days of Jesus’ ministry,

the disciples have seen him perform miracles.

When the storms of life are raging –

or the Sea of Galilee –

Jesus is, in fact, standing by them.

Sure, he’s asleep.

But he’s there.

And perhaps because he’s able to sleep in the wild and furious storm, 

surely, they should take heart from that –

have a little faith –

even if it’s as small as a mustard seed.

But... it is still early days:

They’re getting to know him, getting to see what he can do – 

which is amazing, but, they don’t as yet really know him.

And because they don’t, there, in the storm,

rather than take comfort that Jesus is with them, they panic.

Rather than asking: ‘Teacher, can you fix this?’

instead, they accuse him of not caring:

‘Don’t you care if we drown?’

Faced with two choices – fear, or faith –

they let fear swamp them just as much as the waves are swamping the boat.

We heard the story: Jesus stills the storm –

from great storm, to great calm.

But instead of being afraid of the storm, the disciples are now afraid of Jesus:

‘Who is this – even the wind and waves obey him?’

Simply put: he is the Son of the One who, in the words of the Psalmist

‘stilled the storm to a whisper;

    the waves of the sea were hushed.’

They learn a little more about this rabbi they’ve been following –

he can do healings, they’ve seen that,

but his power goes beyond that of mere humans:

it extends to power over creation.

They won’t just need a bigger boat to weather storms –

they’re gonna need a bigger view of God.

Fear or faith?

‘Both fear and faith make sense only in relation to something that is unknown, challenging, difficult, or threatening. I mean, it’s just those kinds of things that make us afraid. 

And, when you stop to think about it, it’s just those same kinds of things that summon faith to face them. Indeed, in the face of things that are unknown, challenging, difficult, or threatening, it almost seems like there is a clear choice in front of us – fear or faith.’ David Lose

Following Jesus doesn’t mean difficult things won’t happen: 

we see that clearly in this gospel story, and throughout the gospels –

indeed, we see it expressed very clearly in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, 

where he talks of being caught up in other kinds of storms:

not the being on a boat in the sea kind, but being caught up in the storms of life 

that had come about due to following Jesus:

‘we live on; beaten and not yet killed, sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; 

poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, yet possessing everything.’

Perhaps it’s not so much of an either /or:

maybe ‘faith doesn’t so much banish fear as it does make it possible to cope with it...

maybe it’s not whether you’re afraid, but how you respond.'

And, having faith is about having trust:

trust grows in relation to the more you learn – the more you know about someone.

For the disciples, it will be a long, ongoing journey of getting to know Jesus.

They’ll make mistakes; 

they’ll misunderstand;

they may even think him mad at times,

and yet, in the end, as they discover him to be the Lord of life

they’ll find in him the longed-for Messiah:

the One who will not just rescue them from the storm,

but who will rescue the whole of humanity,

and they’ll understand that to follow him is perhaps to feel the fear, and do it anyway,

and hang on to his words to be at peace when the storms are all about them.

So, too, for us:

as we learn more of the One we follow and call ‘Lord’

so we learn to trust, even in the storms – especially in the storms –

it’s a long, ongoing journey:

it takes a whole life-time.

You might want to fasten your seat-belts for the ride that may just take you ‘to the other side’ 

– places you’ve never been, 

places outside your comfort zone.

But Jesus is here in the boat with us all the way – 

and, as his followers, we journey with him, and with each other: 

for, we’re all if us in this faith adventure together.

Let’s pray:

When dangers invade our sense of safety

and we wonder if our Redeemer cares,

we hear the invitation:

Be at peace. Be calm.

When we face job loss and financial downturns,

and our sense of security is shaky,

we hear the invitation:

Be at peace. Be calm.

When we experience distress, and conflict,

that feels like it will tear us apart,

we hear the invitation:

Be at peace. Be calm.

When our lives feel chaotic and desolate

because of illness or sorrow,

we hear the invitation:

Be at peace. Be calm.

Help us to know, O God, 

that the one who calmed the dangerous sea is present with us, cares for us, 

and can calm the stormy waters of our lives. 

Help us to trust more fully

 and more deeply in you. 

We pray in the name of Jesus, 

who invites us to be at peace. Amen.

Church news - meetings and updates

Annual Stated Meeting:
This will be held on Sun 1 July, immediately after worship, to receive our annual accounts.
We missed the deadline by a week...!
With the change of Treasurer, and changes to duties [outsourcing our accounts for preparation],
we were slightly held up this year.
Happy to report that we're now on track, and next year should be much more straightforward
[or is that tempting fate??!]

Presbytery Support:
As a congregation, and as a Session, we've had a hard time of it in this last wee while.
As Minister, I continue to be in awe of the resilience and strength of the congregation.
Our Kirk Session has virtually halved over the last 15 months -
most of these unforseen circumstances - leaving the area, retiring; illness, and deaths.
Some of these were long-standing Office holders.
Given our circumstances, Presbytery has offered to provide some support.
This will be done by sending 4 Assessor Elders to come and help us for a wee while -
especially in some areas where we have lost long-held knowledge on particular
office-holder tasks. This is why it's great to be Presbyterian[!!] - and not an independent
congregation, and we're hugely grateful for the help that Presbytery are sending
to get us back up to speed once more. Our Assessor Elders are yet to be appointed,
but once they are, I'll let you know more.

Local Church Review Update:
Many meetings later, along with 'Biscuits and Blethers' and questionnaires,
we are at the stage where our facilitators are processing all the information.
With summer approaching, they have agreed to bring their report to our
September Kirk Session meeting - with our appointed LCR members of the congregation
in attendance. This will be an open meeting, so any other members of the congregation
would be most welcome to attend for that particular piece of business.
The date for that meeting of Session will be 27 Sept at 7pm.
At that meeting, it is also anticipated that our new Assessor Elders will be in attendance.
With the information presented in the report, we hope to put together our 5 year Forward Plan
and, once done, this would be presented to the December meeting of Presbytery.

On a side note:
It's been an interesting time being part of a new process -
'guinea pigs' along with several other parishes [none of whom have yet completed].
Having been on, and 'fronted' LCR teams to other parishes in the 'old' format,
I've found that this new way has taken a lot longer than the previous way of doing things.
Not necessarily a bad thing, but helpful to identify for future time-scales.
Part of that has been new facilitators adjusting, building up relationships of trust, and ironing out some glitches in the new format.
So, with that done, what of the process so far?
I feel it's gone a lot deeper, and been more meaningful than the previous approach:
while the system we had before was okay, sometimes it could feel, at times, almost a
'tick box' kind of exercise. Given that, then new process has been more challenging - but I think
some useful things have come from it.
It's been a mutual learning process - for facilitators and parish - but I think, in the end,
despite some of the early hiccups, that it has been good to be a trial parish.
I'm looking forward to see what transpires from the report in September,
and looking ahead to doing a little forward planning for our next five years.
One thing that I think that would already be a good idea to embed into that plan
is doing 'Biscuits and Blethers' style meetings on an annual basis -
good to have the wider conversations in the various communities within the parish...
although, next time, I'll try NOT to hold one on a long weekend - oops! [still learning!]

Worship, Sun 17 June - 'Small is beautiful'

Our readings for Sunday were: Ezek 17:22-24; 2 Cor 5:6-17; Mark 4:26-34

Because the Minister went 'off-script' there's no full copy of the sermon this week, so instead, a wee sum up of themes and thoughts.

A slight sense of 'Gardeners' Question Time' to worship, with Ezekie'ls 'God the tree planter' metaphor, and Jesus' seed parables. Meantime, in Corinthians, Paul dished out some life goals.

In our 'thinking about' slot, we played 'guess the mystery seed', once we'd determined that what
had been given out at the door with our orders of service were actually seeds.
There were several 'no, you don't eat it' moments...
An indication, perhaps, that on those occasions when presented with items at the door,
they often end up being those of the edible kind!
Mystery seed, by the by: nasturtium.
While Jesus talked of mustard seeds, they were deemed a little too small
and easily lost for the intended worship purposes.
A conversation was had on optimum conditions for growth and flourishing,
and moved into optimum conditions for our own growth and flourishing as God's people.
Congregation invited to take home their seed and use it as a 'prayer plant' -
read the gospel passage, plant it, and over coming weeks, think/pray about God's kingdom
via the various stages of growth - hidden and at work; small shoots; eventually [hopefully] flowers

The sermon focused mainly on the gospel reading, and the theme of scattering seeds
and the qualities of mustard trees. Basic gist as follows!

Regardless of what the person does who has scattered them,
the seeds are doing their thing, quietly, mysteriously - at first unseen – underground,
but later, bursting through the soil and growing.
Seeds, for the most part, just get on with it, and grow.
We might not see the whole picture, we might not even realise there are seeds
underneath us, gently breaking open and beginning to grow...
we might not even be aware of just how long some of those seeds take to grow –
and, some seeds, especially those in the desert, only grow when it rains.
From seemingly nothing, you can suddenly find vast carpets of wildflowers growing in the desert.
The seeds may have been in the soil for years, just waiting for those optimum conditions.
At the right time, they will do what they were created to do.
Jesus: this is like the kingdom of God -
it may seem that nothing much is happening;
it might feel like there are no seeds of the kingdom breaking open and beginning to grow –
it may seem like such a long time since we’ve seen any signs of the kingdom...
but wait, says Jesus – have faith:
the seeds are there, ready and waiting, and some, already growing.

Parable of mustard seed -
Speculation on just how big mustard seeds grow -
not so much a mighty tree, but a decent-sized shrub!
Thought about qualities:
resilient, prolific - bit like a weed, really, grows anywhere it has the chance

So:
The kingdom of heaven is:
prolific...
everywhere, even in the most surprising places...
is resilient
[congregation - some of the most resilient people Minister knows, esp. given this last year or so!!].
Allowed to grow, the mustard bush provides plenty of room to shelter...
so too, the kingdom of heaven.

The truth about God’s kingdom:
like a seed, when planted, it will grow;
like a mustard seed, it begins small;
it’s persistent;
It doesn’t need to be the tallest, it just has to have the optimum conditions, and it’ll flourish.

Church -
Thinking about how small we are, and wider, thinking about main-line church decline:
can cause anxiety. Sometimes look at other parishes and compare - but, every parish
different contexts that affects how and what is happening.
Anxiety about size can lead to jumping on cycle of all-singing, all-dancing programmes,
without necessarily thinking about local culture and context, or even listening to people
in local area. Feeling of disappointment when things don't work...leads to trying something
else, and so on:
 ‘You can’t just scatter the seed, you need to do more’ –
well yes, we need to let go, and let God get on with it.
It starts with scattering seed.
And has its middle and end in trusting God to deal with the actual growth.
We plant the seeds – God deals with the rest.
And the seeds we plant are the smallest of all the seeds, says Jesus...

Current sense re. 'decline' of church in general - possibly comes about from
centuries of 'Empire building' - Church bought into earthly ideas about what a
kingdom looks like, which was a mistake. Empires fall: the Kingdom of Heaven will never fall.
Perhaps what we're witnessing is the death of the old model of Christian empire -
let go of 'but 50 years ago, churches were full, Sunday Schools were packed.'
Societal/ cultural changes haven't been factored into the way we do things.
New things will happen/ new kind of church - as per Ezekiel reading.
Need to remember Kingdom of Heaven brought in by:
King who rides a donkey;
who served others and didn't expect to be served -
washed feet, cared for the stranger, noticed the meek
['why aren't they coming - they should be coming' attitude at times in churches'];
Kingdom a place where all kinds of 'birds' can come and find shelter/ a home:
Jew and Gentile, male and female,
black and white, gay and straight,
rich and poor, introvert and extrovert.
Can do this because our God is big enough -
sometimes bigger than we allow in our imaginations/ hearts.

We are a small congregation - and that is okay, so is the mustard seed -
we might not immediately see signs of the kingdom,
we might be looking at what we don't have - and forgetting our context -
what are the optimal conditions for growing and flourishing here? Might look
v different compared to other places/ towns...
Jesus started the church with 12 friends - good to remember.
Small is beautiful - crack on, scatter seeds, and trust God!

A prayer from Christian Aid finished the sermon:
We may not be able to confront queens, or challenge presidents;
We may not have the capacity to divert resources, or uplift communities;
We may not have the voice to silence the noise of war,
or the words to negotiate peace between armies;
But, as we follow you, O Christ, we are able to do something.
And so, we pray that you would inspire us
to commit to, and act on,
the small difference we can make:
May we bring peace through small acts of gentleness and reconciliation;
May we bring wealth through small contributions and collaborations;
May we bring safety through small acts of consideration and acceptance;
May we bring wholeness through small acts of care and service.
And in the small ways, O God,
so we sow the seeds of your kingdom,
and watch and pray and prepare
to be amazed by the mystery of your faithfulness,
and by your love, at work in our world.  Amen

Sermon, 3 June, Communion Sunday: 'Fix you'

This morning we shared in the Lord's Supper.
Below is today's sermon, with a little bit of 
Coldplay, kintsugi, Cohen, and Communion!

READING: 2 Cor. 4.5-12; Mark 2.23 - 3.6

SERMON
Let’s pray: may the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer. Amen

When you try your best but you don't succeed 
When you get what you want 
but not what you need 
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep 
Stuck in reverse...
When the tears come streaming down your face 
'Cause you lose something you can't replace 
When you love someone but it goes to waste 
What could it be worse?...
Lights will guide you home 
And ignite your bones 
And I will try to fix you

Lyrics from the Coldplay song ‘Fix you’.
There’s a lot that’s broken in our readings this morning.
in Mark, we hear of a man who’s broken:
in need of healing because his hand has shrivelled.
Beyond the man with the shrivelled hand, there’s a broken system.
We see this in the scene just before we meet the man in the synagogue:
the disciples, walking through a field, are hungry,
and do the most natural of things,
grab a snack on the go.
Except, that to the religious authorities, this is against the Law.
It’s bad enough to be travelling on the Sabbath,
but they should have prepared beforehand if they wanted food:
taking from the field was seen as harvesting – work...and you don’t work on the Sabbath.

Alerted to the rogue Rabbi and his ragtag followers,
the religious authorities are now ready to try and catch him out.
Arriving at the synagogue on another Sabbath, Jesus and his disciples are watched closely:
will Jesus will break the Law by healing the man?
You know the end of that story:
of course he does.
And is distressed that the ones who should understand the spirit of the Law,
have instead turned it into something soul-destroying...
in a sense, they’ve wrung the life out of it,
and by doing so, have caused it to crush the life out of others.
The Law has become a burden, not a help.

I’ve often said that the Gospel of Mark moves quickly. And here’s a case in point:
Chapter 3, verse 6 is the 79th verse in the Gospel.
And already, Jesus, in healing the man, has made enemies who
are looking to find ways to kill him.
By demonstrating that the Law was intended to be something life-giving,
by showing the religious authorities that compassion and care always come before ideology,
Jesus, the Lord of life, and Lord of the Sabbath, is marked for death:
and it will lead to his body eventually being broken upon a Cross.

But what of our other reading?
The Christians in Corinth have been in a bit of a mess.
Through Paul’s letters, we see that they’ve become a broken and fractured community:
here, the followers of Jesus – the Body of Christ – is broken.
In this second letter to the community, things seem to settling down,
and Paul is providing handy hints and helps for being a reconciled community –
reconciled in Jesus,
and reconciled to one another.
There’s been some seriously bad behaviour –
fighting at communion: please, don’t do this! –
fighting over theology – again, let’s not...
even fighting about who was the best Christian –
this, in arguments about spiritual gifts.
Paul has had his hands full, trying to untangle the mess that the
Corinthian Christians had gotten themselves into.
In all their carryings-on, they’d lost sight of Jesus,
and had lost sight of seeing Jesus in each other.
While the light of God was there in the midst, their own broken humanity
had caused it to burn dim indeed.
Caught up in their own needs,
fighting for a place at the table,
or to prove that they alone were holders of the correct doctrine,
they could no longer see the bigger picture –
that they were all equally beloved of God,
and that they were all equally meant to shine
with his light and life and love
no matter how similar or different they were to one another.

At this point in his letter to the Corinthians, Paul shares with them his struggles:
while being beloved of God is a great and wonderful gift,
it doesn’t mean life’s difficulties just disappear in a puff of magical smoke.
Sometimes, it actually gets more difficult,
especially when you’re doing your level best to avoid putting yourself above God and others –
so very human – and instead, trying to put God in first place.
But, it’s when you do put God first, that you see God’s light shine like a beacon,
showing you the path ahead.
Paul tells them that
Yes, we’re frail, we break as easily as clay jars, but, inside is a great treasure –
life in him,
life that gives us the strength to keep going, hard-pressed as we are.
Paul urges his friends in Corinth
to let God’s light shine,
to let God’s life ripple through every fibre of their being,
to let God’s love reconcile them to him and to one another,
so that, united in Him,
they show the world what God looks like.

There’s an ancient tradition in Japan, ‘kintsugi’,
which is to repair broken pots or ceramics by fusing the cracks with powdered gold or silver:
not hiding the cracks, but making them beautifully visible.
What had been broken, is now fixed.
What had no value, is now beyond price.
Held up, the light shines through the cracks –
flagging up the treasure in the clay jar.
Poet and songwriter, Leonard Cohen once famously said:
'There is a crack in everything. 
That's how the light gets in.'
Each one of us holds that treasure within us:
the light of Gods love –
grace poured out upon us without limit –
God, mending our brokenness, and making something more beautiful.
Shortly, as his people, as the Body of Christ here in the Upper Clyde,
we’ll share in bread and wine:
the meal of reconciliation -
reconciliation with God,
and with one another.
The meal that reminds us that, just as God, in Christ, put us first,
so, as his friends, we are to put him at the centre and remember that:
there is the Cross, and his broken, and dismembered body...
and there is new life:
for in community, as we eat the bread and drink the wine,
we re-member him and are made whole –
a community of reconciliation and resurrection,
called to be his light in the world.

The story goes that, 
“During the bombing raids of World War II, 
thousands of children were orphaned and left to starve. 
The fortunate ones were rescued and placed in refugee camps 
where they received food and good care. 
But many of these children who had lost so much could not sleep at night. 
They feared waking up to find themselves once again homeless and without food. 
Nothing seemed to reassure them. 
Finally, someone hit upon the idea of giving each child a piece of bread to hold at bedtime. 
Holding their bread, these children could finally sleep in peace. 
All through the night, the bread reminded them, ‘Today I ate and I will eat again tomorrow.’”[1]

As friends and followers of Jesus, today, we eat and drink –
and will be fed and nourished by the One who makes us whole, and calls us his own:
the One who is the Bread of Heaven;
the One who knows a thing or two about fixing and mending broken things and broken people;
the One whose light shines in the darkness and who will never be overcome.
The One to whom belongs all honour, and praise and glory, Amen.

[1] From the book 'Sleeping with Bread' by Dennis Linn, Sheila Fabricant Linn, Matthew Linn -
excellent wee book helping to work on what matters, what gives you life, etc.