Monday 28 January 2019

News, info, looking ahead


A relatively quiet week this week, so flagging up some items for the diary a little further on:

Sun 10 Feb, 9am: Prayer group meets. All welcome.
If you have any particular prayer requests, please leave a note in the prayer box in the vestibule.

Wednesday 13 Feb, 2pm: Guild. Our guest speaker will be Dee Yates,
who will be talking about her pilgrimage to Lindisfarne.

Thurs. 14 Feb, ‘Wordworks’ writers group meets up by the fireside at the Colebrooke Arms,
Crawfordjohn. All welcome. Come and share work by a favourite writer,
or bring something you’ve written or are working on.

Hospital visits: A wee plea from the Minister: please don’t be shy about letting me know
if folk are in hospital and needing a visit. If it’s at all possible, I really do try my best to visit,
but if I don’t know I can’t go! I’d rather be told several times than not at all, so need your help.
Thanks everyone.

Sunday 27 January 2019

Sunday sermon: Parables wk 2 'Firm foundations'

READINGS: Ps 18:1-5, 16-19, 30-32;  Luke 6:46-49

SERMON ‘Firm foundations’
Let’s pray: May the words of my mouth, and the thoughts of all our hearts, be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our deliverer. Amen.

Once upon a time, there were three little pigs.
I think you know the story...
Each of the pigs is set upon building a home.
And each of the pigs have quite different thoughts about how they’ll build their home.
The first pig is quite the eco-warrior;
he decides to build his house from cheap, renewable, non-polluting,
environmentally-friendly, recyclable materials.
Having done extensive research,
our eco-pig comes up with a plan to use
a common product born as a result of intensive arable farming...
otherwise known as straw.
More excited by the products he’ll be using to build,
he forgets some simple basic building protocols...
or:
cuts a few corners, because he’s not that patient.
The wondrous eco-house is built,
our eco-pig moves in and turns the house into a cheerful home
and begins to dream of building an organic baking business.

The second pig is impressed by his friend’s efforts, but is more one for the rustic romantic look.
He opts for a wood cabin and dreams of running a logging business.
So caught up with the plans for his business,
he’s not so bothered about some essential small details about house-building –
he gets some dodgy pals to crack on,
while he heads off to explore the ins and outs of forestry.
On his return, the wood cabin is ready and he happily moves in.

The third pig...
well, she’s more of a details person.
She’s been watching her friends and their house building projects
and doing her own research.
The eco-friendly idea is important to her, but she heads in a different direction,
using the straw as insulation.
She’s less bothered about a wood cabin:
she loves the idea of a stone cottage but the wood’s useful though for interior decorating.
Knowing the area is prone to fierce storms,
she spends time making sure she’s dug deep foundations.
Finally the house is built.
...It’s absolutely charming.

The council, as they do, send around the building inspector, an odd chap -
quite a lot of facial hair,
a long pointy nose,
and with a hungry look in his eye.
You know how this goes:
after a lot of hot air, the only house left standing is the house of pig number three –
she of the stone cottage built on strong foundations,
who has also found herself with two unexpected house guests.

I don’t know about you, but so often, when I come across Jesus’ parable
of the wise and foolish builders,
the story of the three little pigs comes into my head at some point!
But instead of three pigs, we’ve two people:
both want to build houses,
both going about the job in very different ways,
and both ending up with very different outcomes.
Cutting corners doesn’t pay off in the case of the foolish man:
building a house –
one of life’s major investments –
is done in such a slap-dash, thoughtless manner
that it all, quite literally, comes tumbling down when rough weather comes in.
Also, it's never a great idea to build a house on a flood plain.
Like the old Sunday School song says:
‘the rains came down 
and the floods came up...
and the house on the sand fell flat.’
There’s nothing there for the house to hold onto, and so the water washes it away.
In the case of the wise man –
well, he’s listened, he’s taken advice, and he’s acted upon it:
he makes sure his house is built on a firm foundation –
built securely on the rock, not the sand.
He’s making sure this life investment is just that:
something that lasts for life.
And as the song goes:
‘the house on the rock stood firm.’

Our parable from last week –
the story of the tricky tenants –
took place in the last week of Jesus’ life.
Today’s parable comes relatively early in Jesus’ ministry.
You’ll find it both here in Luke, and in the Gospel of Matthew.
And it’s set at the end of what we know as the Sermon on the Mount.
It’s not long since Jesus has called the disciples –
and has chosen twelve to be his inner group of followers and helpers, calling them ‘apostles’.
They have been selected for deeper training –
for they will be the ones who will be sent to tell everyone about Jesus.
Meanwhile, news of Jesus has already been spreading around the area –
wherever he goes, people are flocking to him.
After spending some time healing, Jesus settles down for a time of teaching:
the basic themes cover God’s blessing and how to love and follow God –
both good basic building blocks for the foundations of the faith.
As ever, with Jesus, though, he turns everyday perceptions on their head.

As he teaches about blessing you’d probably notice
a ripple of surprise among his listeners.
The commonly held belief was that you could tell who God blessed quite easily:
they were the ones who were rich, beautiful,
who were famous,
who were powerful.
Clearly, they must have been people of fantastic faith to have been so blessed.
But Jesus isn’t having any of that.
This is all surface stuff:
riches could be lost,
looks would fade with time,
fame could be fleeting:
one day you could be popular with the crowds,
another you could be yesterday’s news;
and power – well, put one little foot wrong,
and you could easily be overthrown by someone
hungry to build their own small empire  and sphere of influence.
Sure, there were plus points,
sure, there’s nothing wrong with creature comforts...
but they were not the basis upon which to show what true blessing looked like.
Instead, Jesus encourages his listeners to look deeper:
sometimes the very ones you think are not blessed are the real holders of God’s blessing –
those who are poor,
those who hunger,
those who weep,
those who are despised and excluded:
God is on the side of those who are truly
in need of blessing –
such as these are welcome in God’s kingdom.

His teaching also overturns the usual expectations of how to treat enemies:
to follow God is to follow the way of love.
As with last week’s parable,
here Jesus encourages his listeners to break the cycle of violence.
Don’t hate and harm your enemies:
do the harder thing –
love them.
And actually, when you’re able to forgive, you’re able to move on with living.
Hatred and vengeance only imprison you in a pattern of deathly behaviour –
choose life,
choose love, says Jesus.
And shares that great classic piece of wisdom:
‘do to others as you would have them do to you.’

Other top tips for following in the faith:
don’t be Judgy McJudgerson;
forgive others;
be generous – give to others;
stop and look at how you’re living and work on that,
rather than pointing out the faults of others.
It’s all sound teaching:
things to work on that bring you closer to God,
and closer to your neighbours –
things that bring peace and harmony and good relationships.
And, Jesus add that, as you work on following God’s way,
you’ll produce fruit that is recognisably of God’s kingdom.
Jesus is basically saying to his listeners that it’s not enough just
to say ‘I’ll follow’,
to say ‘Lord, Lord!’
it’s about digging in and acting upon what you’re saying –
both talking the talk
and walking the walk of faith.
What you do demonstrates who you are and what you believe –
your core values.

There’s a show I watch called ‘Vikings’
and this week’s episode had a useful example of deeply built foundations
on the part of two different characters.
One has been raised as a Viking, serving the old gods;
the other, although the son of a Viking, has been raised among the Christian British.
For political and pragmatic reasons,
both forsake the faith they’ve been brought up in and change religion.
What’s interesting is that, for both, in a time of deep crisis,
they go back to the faith of their childhood –
the former Christian, in the middle of a storm at sea, fearful for his life,
once more calls upon the name of Christ.
When challenged with:
‘Oh, so you’re a Christian again?’
although he denies it,
the reality is that... at some core level,
no matter how conflicted he may be...
still, his life’s foundations have been built on Christ.
His challenge is now to find a way of
living in harmony with his words and his actions and his faith.

Having talked about some basic foundational matters of the faith,
we find Jesus finishing up by telling his listeners a story.
It’s a way of summing up why it’s important to practice the faith –
why words by themselves are not enough:
actions matter –
both work together.
We hear a story of two builders...
Those listening to the story understand that the story is a metaphor for life –
and for living the life of faith:
if you take shortcuts things may go on cheerfully for a wee while,
but, when difficulties happen what have you got to draw on?
At times such as these, if you’ve not done some faith foundation building,
there’s often a loss of faith.
But, if you follow Jesus’ teaching –
his guidance for helping you to navigate the faith
will also help you to navigate life itself when hard challenges come.
You’ll have built a solid core –
where you can dig down and know the solid presence of the
One who is our rock.

It’s something that King David understood.
Although flawed and very capable of making mistakes – like all of us –
David had a real heart for God:
he was a man whose foundations were very much built upon God.
This passionate, energetic man, who had a tendency to jump into things with both boots on,
nevertheless knew that no matter how much he got it wrong,
that he was loved by God,
and that he could return to God.
That in the good times, and in the bad,
God was the solid rock upon which he could stand.

Jesus’ story of the builders reminds us that the journey of faith is not easy –
God is with us, of course –
and we have to remember not only to say that we are with God,
but in our living,
in our being,
in our actions,
to demonstrate that we are with God.
As we do so, we build up resilience:
a faith that gives us the strength to cope when those storms of life do blow in –
relationship worries,
job concerns,
dealing with the effects of possible economic downturns in the face of impending Brexit,
health issues,
climate change,
the many kinds of loss we can experience...

In his teaching, Jesus overturns some of his listeners thinking about life.
His is an invitation to encounter God in a different way,
by living life in a completely different way.
Choosing to take up the invitation gives us
‘not only the strength in the present to withstand the various storms...
but also the final great storm that sees us through to an eternity with the Lord,
and for whom we have lived a life of devotion.' [Richard Beaton]
Amen.

Tuesday 22 January 2019

Sunday sermon: Parables - wk 1: Tricky tenants


This week we begin four weeks exploring some of the parables of Jesus.

READINGS: Ps 118:15-29;  Matthew 21:33-46

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.

A little over two weeks ago, with some pals,
I found myself looking out on an uninterrupted, open horizon.
Limitless.
Here and there, blue herons majestically pushed through the sky,
the occasional hawk hovered on high
looking down for tiny movements and lunch possibilities;
insects cricked and clicked and crept quietly.
Tiny islets with stubby trees and shrubs and delicate, purple orchids
occasionally broke the mile after mile of tall, waving grassland and winding, watery trails.

From the middle of the Everglades, sitting still for a moment on a flying boat,
you suddenly realise just how immense a place it is.
Sure, I’d looked at the map before I headed off for my wee adventure,
and yes, saw the amount of space it took up,
but only when put together –
the overview, and the being in
truly gave it context.
It was one of the most astonishing places I’d ever been to,
and riding on an airboat with a few friends and a fab guide
was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever had the privilege of doing.

Also giving the place context, was Christian, our guide –
born and brought up in the area.
He held an invisible map of the place in his head,
knew the story of the great, grassy wetland and its creatures –
put them within their context.
A multi-layered story of time and place,
creature and creation.
Limitless in more than just the geographical.
Connected, even, or perhaps because of, the vastness.
...I’ll be thinking of that place for a long time.

And so it is with scripture:
each week, we hear chapters and verses;
hear of people and situations from long ago:
so many layers,
so many stories.
Sometimes it’s easy to take a thing from scripture
and so focus in on a word or a phrase,
that we forget to step back and ask:
how does this fit in with the overall story –
the story of God’s relationship with people,
and of our relationship with God,
and with one another?

In our text from Matthew, we hear of a landowner who decides to plant a vineyard –
a place that will produce fruit in the right time,
with the right conditions,
with the right people.
But within the story are echoes of other stories -
a story of beginnings:
where a garden was made and planted in love
and people placed there to tend and care for it.
A story of rebellion.
The landowner of the parable discovers his tenant farmers are violent, destructive, greedy.
The Creator of the 1st garden finds that the people think they know best,
and perhaps, have an unhealthy desire to become as gods themselves –
there’s a hunger for knowledge.
That’s not bad in and of itself, but what’s the motivation?
Because in this case, the hunger seems unhealthy, unwise.
And, with knowledge comes power, and when knowledge and power
are taken to be used in the wrong way –
that’s a recipe for disaster.
We only have to look around the news to see some of the very current evidence of that.
So much brokenness from so much use of power without responsibility,
or care for consequences.

As we explore scripture with a wide lens,
we see the unfolding story of God’s desire to restore and heal
the broken relationship with humanity –
a relationship rupture that has also broken humanity itself:
people putting themselves above others -
people pitting themselves against others;
fear, greed, and the desire for power
fighting against the way of faith, generosity,
and the desire for peace and harmony and justice –
the common good.
In the midst, at the centre, is God, ever- patient, ever calling.
First, he sends his servants, the prophets, to call humanity back to him.
Some are beaten –
Jeremiah gets thrown down a well;
some are killed.
And in the end, God sends his son among us to call us back,
and to show us how to be more fully human –
a little like the new Gillette ad:
not just to be the best a man can get,
but the best a man can be...
the best a human can be:
the unlimited potential of being fully alive in God.

And, as we explore scripture through the
more focused lens of our parable, we see the great overarching story drawn in microcosm.
Here the landowner is exceptionally patient.
Having created the ideal conditions for growth for the vineyard,
and placed his tenants to tend the place,
they decide to take matters into their own hands –
and forget the one who created the vineyard
and ensured it would flourish,
so that they would also flourish.
Now they want it all –
and the landowner can go hang,
and if they have to use violence to show him they mean business, well, they will.
As with the unfolding history of God’s relationship with humanity,
so we see the unfolding relationship and actions
of these tenants to the landowner.
Servants are sent to gather their master’s share.
Like the prophets, they’re beaten or killed.
The cycle of violence continues when more servants are sent,
until, in the end, the landowner sends his son.
...Wait...
Given what’s happened, that seems totally mad, doesn’t it?
To us, yes.
But actually, no.
We’re looking into a time where status was important:
it’s an honour culture.
While the tenants may have no respect for the servants, they would, normally,
pay some heed to the authority of the landowner’s son.
I did say normally:
however, there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of normal with these particular tenants.
But, hang on to that word, ‘authority’
and let’s look at when and where and why
Jesus is telling this Vineyard story.

The story is told in the temple grounds a couple of days
after Jesus has entered Jerusalem to great acclaim and cheers –
what we refer to on Palm Sunday as ‘the triumphant entry’.
This is the week in which Jesus will die.
And it’s the day after he’s upset the religious authorities by
overturning the tables in the temple grounds where
market stalls selling overpriced doves for sacrifices abound;
where money changers ply their trade because, ordinary money
has to be exchanged for temple money – and at extortionate rates:
so many ways in which to fleece the faithful –
and line the pockets of the less scrupulous of those working at the temple.
In his actions of driving out the stall holders,
Jesus has called out corruption in a big way –
actually, he’s been doing that all through his ministry.
And every step of the way, his own authority has been questioned by...
the religious authorities.

Just before our text, he’s been challenged again –
and the parable is part of his response to this challenge:
a parable about thinly disguised authorities acting as stumbling blocks,
in fact, rejecting the very cornerstone of the faith.
In the parable, the son, who should be honoured, is killed.
In the temple, the Son, who should be honoured, is marked for death.
In the parable, the son is taken outside the walls of the vineyard and killed.
In the day of reckoning, Jesus is taken outside the walls of Jerusalem and killed.
Both parable, and parallel.
Both within, and without the parable,
we see the cycle of violence continue.
But if we focus only on the parable,
and don’t pull back to reveal the bigger picture, the more open horizon,
that’s all we’re left with:
rebellion, violence, death –
rinse, wash, repeat.
Jesus asks his listeners:
‘So, what do you think that landowner will do?’
You can almost hear his listeners going:
‘Destroy the miserable wretches.’
Well, that’s what you do, isn’t it?
That’s the way of things.
That’s the parable and on you go.

However, by putting the parable into its place in the bigger story,
we find something startling,
something different happening.
‘So, what do you think that landowner will do?’
Not meet violence with violence,
but meet it with love.
Not end with death,
but with life.
God rewrites the story
for God can see beyond the horizon
and has limitless possibilities and imagination to draw upon
in his desire to call humanity back into relationship with him.
In Jesus,
God, the creator of the world –
God, the maker of the vineyard –
breaks the cycle of violence and death.
No more.
Enough.
In the bigger story of God’s eternal, ongoing love for us,
even death can be overcome by love.
‘Rather than return violence for violence, ...in the crucifixion of Jesus, 
God absorbs our violence and responds with life,
with...resurrection,
with Jesus triumphant over death and offering not retribution, but peace.’ [David Lose]

This is less a parable about some tricky tenants,
and more the wider story of Jesus authority,
and of God’s love,
and of the invitation to follow –
to walk into freedom and life,
and to flourish –
to give the world a little foretaste of heaven by producing the fruit of the kingdom –
even here, even now:
kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness...
love that seeks peace and restoration and healing,
and which brings light and life to the world –
and the joy of limitless horizons –
even beyond the seemingly limitless horizons of the Everglades.

What kind of fruit do you want to produce:
a bitter harvest
or the better harvest?
If you’ve been putting God a little to the side in your life,
if you feel you’ve been a little complacent in your walk of faith
then perhaps today is a great day
to taste and see that the Lord is good,
to get reacquainted with God,
and to grow in him.
Amen.

Tuesday 1 January 2019

News, info, contacts 2 - 17 Jan


The Minister will be unavailable from 
Tues 1 Jan to Wed 16 Jan


Urgent pastoral cover will be provided by the Rev. George Shand of the Tinto Parishes. His number is 01899 309400.
For general parish queries, please contact Heather Watt, our Session Clerk on 01899 850211

What's On?
Morning worship:
Sun 6 Jan, 10.30 - we welcome Mrs Jane Fucella as she conducts worship for us. Jane lived for many years in Thailand, working in mission alongside her husband, Mike. She now lives in Biggar, where Mike serves as parish minister.

Wed 9 Jan, 2.30 - the Annual Guild Afternoon Tea will be held in the church hall. The meeting is open and all are welcome to come along. Please let Mary Hamilton know if you'd like to come along.
Cost is £5 for tea and entertainment.

Sun 13 Jan, 10.30 - we welcome the Rev. Bill Buchan who will conduct worship this morning. Bill previously served as parish minister at Kilwinning Abbey Church of Scotland, before retiring. He and his wife have recently moved to Biggar to be near family.

JUST IN CASE OF SNOW:
Subject to severity, worship may be cancelled. Before setting out, check in with Heather Watt, the Session Clerk, who will be consulting with the Session - she can advise as to any cancellations.
The most important thing is:
if the weather comes in and snow falls heavily, please stay safe.