Sunday worship: 'Who's that knockin' at the door?'

As it's a 4th Sunday of the month, there were two services of worship today:
10.30am at the parish church in Abington where we picked up a little on the letters to the churches in Revelation, and thought about the one who stands at the door and knocks...
and 6.30pm at Leadhills Village Hall, where we were thinking about Margaret of Scotland in our series on 'heroes of the faith' and we also did a little reflecting on 'All Saints' and Halloween.

During our worship this morning, it was a delight
to welcome Dee Yates to the eldership and to become a part of our Kirk Session. A very cheery celebration over morning tea involved cake and copious scones...!

Readings for this morning:
Rev 3:1-22 and Colossians 1:15-23

Sermon: ‘Who’s that knocking on the door?’ 
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.

In the midst of a green, growing forest, in a small clearing, stood a cottage.
There were wooden shingles on the roof, and the walls had been made of logs –
those that had been knocked down to create the clearing originally.
It was not a ramshackle affair –
rather, there were signs that it had been relatively well cared for.
The clearing itself seemed orderly and there was a well-tended veggie patch just by the water tank.

The cottage was a good way off the beaten track –
so far off, that it was almost a little too easy to get lost if you didn’t keep a close eye out
for the occasional marker on a tree or river bend.
Apart from the noises of the bush –
the scuttling of smaller beasts in the undergrowth,
the occasional crashing of the bigger beasts through the trees,
the song of birds and chirrup of insects,
it was a quiet, almost forgotten place.
Very few ever journeyed to the cottage:
it was a tricky, dangerous business with twists and turns,
and sudden drops where the land fell away into steep water-carved gorges.
A visitor needed to have their wits about them to get there and back in one piece.

The three who lived in the cottage had been sent there many years before by their Master,
there, they were asked to remain, and keep a watch upon the cottage and surrounds until he returned.
Each was very different to the other, but what bound them together was their Master,
and his request and, over time, the bonds of friendship
to each other as they lived and worked alongside one another.
Over the years, together and individually, each worked away at their task...
and each interpreted the instructions of the Master a little differently.
Manny decided that what his Master meant by 'watch' was try not to fall asleep –
to stay awake the whole time the Master was away...
sometimes, though, he did fall asleep due to tiredness.
Each time he woke from sleep, he felt a little more discouraged.
He began to wonder if the Master was ever coming back.
It seemed a long time, this waiting.

Maurie decided that he could do the job if he kept the place tidy:
he’d sweep and dust inside the cottage,
and clear away any creeping undergrowth that was making its way
too closely to the perimeter of the cottage.
It was wearying work;
it took most of his strength, but, nevertheless, he remained faithful to the task.
Sometimes, though, he was so absorbed in looking for the slightest speck of dust,
or signs of weed encroachment,
that he’d forget to look beyond the perimeter to keep an eye out for his Master’s return.

Millie could never quite make her mind up what the task actually was –
how active or passive it was.
Some days, she’d do nothing.
Other days, she’d have a sudden burst of energy.
Often, she’d think of what lay beyond the cottage and its bounds...
until, curious, she began to wander off to see what she might find.
Over time, she would ranger further and further from the cottage, searching for treasures in the bush.
Some days, she’d come home,
carrying a great load of bananas over her back,
or beautifully patterned wood,
or flasks of the purest tasting water in the world...
and, while she’d share with Manny and Maurie,
it always seemed she kept the lion’s share for herself...
Often, looking for treasure replaced keeping watch for her Master.

It had been many a year since the Master had placed them at the cottage.
Sometimes, they would struggle to remember
what the Master was like:
how his voice sounded,
what he looked like.
They knew there was a reason why they had been put there by the Master,
but sometimes, it was hard to remember.
Over the long years, the few visitors who would come to see them gradually stopped.
The door of the cottage remained quiet...
until one day, there came the sound of a gentle knock on wood.
Manny, Maurie, and Millie, busy eating their dinner stopped dead and looked at one another.
‘Who’s that knocking on the door?’ they all wondered.
They sat, looking at one another, not quite knowing what to do.
The knock came again, a little more loudly.
Still they looked at each other.
Another knock, more insistent.
Coming to from their surprise, Manny went to the door...
‘Who’s that knocking on the door?’
And from the other side came the reply:
‘A friend.’
A puzzled silence from inside the cottage and then:
‘But, well... we don’t really have any friends.’
‘Open the door, and you’ll see one,’ came the voice from outside.

The three inside the cottage looked at one another:
this was rather disconcerting.
What to do?
Another gentle tap at the door.
‘Hello?’
From inside, there were mutters...
and then the sound of the door latch slowly, ever so slowly being pulled.
The door opened, ever so slightly –
just enough for an inquisitive eyeball to look out at the visitor.
The eyeball looked up and then travelled down
the whole length of the person waiting patiently outside.
‘Bear with me,’ came the voice that belonged to the eyeball’s owner.
The door shut once more.
Manny – the owner of the eyeball – walked back to the table.
‘Doesn’t look familiar. Looks a wee bit unkempt, truth be told. 
Clothes are all raggedy and torn. Tho’ I don’t know if my eye was playing tricks, 
but I thought I caught a glint of gold underneath the coat.’
Millie twitched a little at the word 'gold'.
Maurie sighed.
‘I wonder what the Master would do?’
Another knock on the door and the visitor calling out:
‘Can I come in, please? It’s a teeny bit chilly out here now that it’s getting dark.’
From inside the cottage, the sound of a chair being pulled back, and then,
footsteps could be heard... padding across to the door.
‘Who’s that knocking on the door?’ 
This time, it was Maurie by the door.
And from the other side came the patient reply:
‘A friend. May I come in?’
From inside, there was the sound of a hand on the latch, a brief pause, and then...

Well, ...
how does the story end?
Who is this strange visitor?
Is he, indeed, a friend?
There’s only one way to find out –
the door that has been knocked on needs to be opened for all to be revealed.

In our reading from Revelation, we hear of letters to the other three churches –
Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea.
Again, as with the four letters from last week, these are meant as letters of encouragement;
and part of that is also noting where each could improve where needed.
All however, are known and loved by God –
watched over and cared for...
given a task to watch and prepare for the coming of God’s kingdom of heaven on earth.
Each, working out how that might be done,
each, doing some things wonderfully,
each, making the occasional mistake.
Each congregation trying to work out just how to follow Jesus, the Master, on the journey of faith.
Occasionally, there have been obstacles, or distractions, even falling asleep on the watch,
but in each case, while sometimes it’s not gone well,
it’s not all been bad either –
and in each letter, Jesus shows the different congregations a way forward in the faith,
and, encourages them to continue:
‘go on, I know you can do it,’  he almost seems to say.
But they can’t ‘go on’ without him –
they can’t make the journey of faith without Jesus.
And so, we have, as we hear the letter to Laodicea, an image of a door
and Jesus knocking on the door saying:
‘Here I am! I stand at the door and knock!
If anyone hears my voice
and opens the door, 
I will go in and eat with them,
and they with me.’
Will the Laodiceans open the door and let Jesus in?
But who is this Jesus?
Who is it that knocks on the door of the church at Laodicea,
or, for that matter, the church here at Upper Clyde,
or even, at the door of each one of our hearts?

We get a glimpse in our reading from Colossians:
he is the image of the invisible God –
to see Jesus, is to look upon the face of God.
We are shown the might and power of the One who is God become human –
who used his power to become one of us...
underneath the rags of his humanity,
you see the gold of his divinity and majesty.
He is the one who spoke the world into being with the Father;
the One who holds all things together;
the One who is Head of the body –
the body that is us...
his followers,
the church.
He is the great reconciler,
the life-giver who gave himself for us;
the peace-maker who breaks down the divisions between God and humanity...
restoring us,
healing us,
making us whole;
he is the One who is seated in glory and majesty at God’s right hand,
and the One who calls us his friends...
the One who stands at the door
and knocks at the door of each one of our hearts and says:
‘Here I am!’
Only ever wanting to be let into our lives –
to show us how to live fully,
and in that living,
to point the way to him for others.
The journey of faith is different for each one of us
but, every day,
Jesus stands at the door and knocks.
And every day, we make the choice:
do we keep the door closed,
or do we open the door
and let him into our lives...
and, in doing so,
be part of his body on earth, bringing in his kingdom?
Amen.