Sun worship, 24 Nov: 'Christ the King'

READINGS/ Col. 1:13-23;  Luke 1:68-79; Luke 23:33-43

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.

It is an object of power –
small, and beautiful,
perfectly crafted, and pleasing to the eye.
Highly polished gold gleams, catching the light.
All who see it are overcome with desire for it –
they would move heaven and earth for it,
sacrifice all for the love and want of it...
It is an object of power –
small, and beautiful, and deadly
to all who wear it and wield it apart from its creator.
The ring was crafted long ago by one who desired above all else,
to have power over all things.
But the ring was lost during a great battle and over centuries a desperate search
has been taking place by its master,
and by those who would prevent the ring from ever being reunited with him.
It is an object of power –
small, and beautiful, and deadly
to all creatures and to all of creation should its master ever wear it.
In the past, some, who meant well, tried to master the ring –
hoping to use its power for good but it proved to be their undoing:
lured by its gleam, they were lost,
and were corrupted by its immense power.
The only hope, then, is to place this
small and beautiful and deadly object of power
out of harm’s way:
it must be destroyed...

Power.
If the great saga of The Lord of the Rings had to be described in one word,
then ‘power’ would be that word.
All the action, all the motivations, are driven by power –
the craving for it no matter the cost,
the fear of it –
how it can destroy, and how it can be misused.
The story is a cautionary tale of how absolute power can corrupt:
a tale giving us a glimpse of what leadership looks like when it is driven
by the fuel of power for power’s sake –
power without responsibility,
power used without accountability...
It shows, also, that, even with the best of intentions –
as the old saying goes:
absolute power corrupts absolutely.
Power is a seductive and dangerous thing.

In the Lord of the Rings, we get a sense of the character
of the maker of the ring of power –
there is nothing he will not do to get the ring back;
he rules by fear,
he uses violence to get what he wants,
he is a master of deception,
he is a bringer of war,
a sower of suspicion, mistrust, and division.
Those who follow him are expendable,
small beer to his great ambition for world domination.
He is a bringer of darkness and those who serve him live in the shadows.
His is a rule that brings despair and hopelessness.
If he were to get the ring back, he would rule the world,
and his reign would last forever
and it would be wholly awful.

Against this terrifying foe, the task to destroy the ring seems hopeless...
And here’s the counterpoint in the story:
we see another kind of power –
the power of hope, even in the darkest of situations.
Hope’s power brings with it the steely determination
to resist the darkness and to aim for the light –
to fight to make the world a better place:
to redeem power itself,
so that those who are in positions of power
lead not for their own sake, but for the sake of others...
not for selfish ambition, but in selfless service
so that the darkness disappears and all can stop living in the shadows,
and thrive in the glorious light together.
The writer of The Lord of the Rings,
J. R. R. Tolkien, was a man with a deep faith –
and his faith is the bedrock upon which the great themes
within his epic tale are built upon.

Power.
On this last day of the church year,
perhaps it is no coincidence that the readings we have,
that the theme we’re given,
is centred upon Christ as King.
At this end-point of the Christian year,
it is good to stop and reflect upon who we follow,
who it is we look to for meaning in our lives,
and for the strength to keep walking in faith.
And, as we think of Christ as King,
we find ourselves faced with quite a different
understanding of power, and of the way it’s used.

In Colossians, we see Jesus described as
‘firstborn over all creation’ –
for by him all things were created...
even those who themselves sit upon thrones of power owe that power to Jesus.
It is only by his power that all things are held together.
He is the Head of the church;
his power is such that he was the first to overcome death,
so that, through it, we too might live.
He uses his power to reconcile people to God.
Christ the King, as shown in Colossians,
reminds us that, without him, nothing would exist:
it is only through his power that we are here.
And, only his ongoing power keeps everything from falling
and shattering into nothingness.
In him, we live and breathe, and move,
and are reconciled with God.

In the first of our readings from Luke,
we hear Zechariah talk of his son John,
and speak of the coming of Jesus –
whose power is seen as something that delivers people;
and here, power is used with the word mercy.
With Christ’s coming, we see the power of light over darkness –
‘the rising sun will come to us from heaven
to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death’
and we see that his reign is one marked by guiding his people onto ‘the path of peace.’
At the end of the year, as we look back, so we look forward.
And in this first reading from Luke,
we see new beginnings, and we see the power of hope –
Christ, the King, delivers us from the darkness, brings us out of the shadows,
has the power to end conflict so that all are reconciled to one another.

In our second reading from Luke,
we find a strange kingship and power shown in a jolting, and disconcerting manner.
In contrast to the other two positive and glowing, hopeful readings,
we find ourselves... at the foot of the Cross.
We see Jesus, the King,
as political prisoner,
as religious outcast.
We see a man,
racked with pain,
looking down upon a crowd.
We see him watch those who take delight in his agony
and hear, as he does,
the harsh voices dripping with venom, spewing vitriol and hate
as they mock his mangled body.
We see him...
see his power seemingly stripped away;
we see him...
stripped of clothing,
stripped of dignity,
being stripped of life itself...
and even in the midst of the horror of it,
we see him,
hanging there, between two criminals,
and hear him speaking words of comfort,
words of reconciliation,
words of promise and blessing and Paradise,
to one of these companions in death...

Firstborn of all creation,
hope of our salvation,
sufferer of crucifixion...
This, this is our King –
stripping himself of power so that we might come out of the darkness
and into his marvellous light;
this is our King –
who gave of himself utterly, selflessly, for us...
This is our King –
who shows us that true power comes at a cost:
not at the expense of others,
but at the expense of self for others.
Here, at the very centre of this scene of utter powerlessness...
we find, strangely, the beating heart of where true power lives,
for only true power has the strength to choose to show such complete vulnerability....
This is our King –
who, even while suffering and exposed and vulnerable
can still offer words of comfort to another:
‘Today, you will be with me in Paradise.’

Power.
On this last day of the church year,
on this Christ the King Sunday,
we are reminded again of what true power is –
it’s about strength, but not about brute force;
it’s about using words to speak creation into being,
as well as speaking comfort from a Cross;
it’s about showing a different way,
breaking the cycle violence,
and finding the way of peace.
It’s about suffering and dying...
and it doesn’t end there –
for it’s about hope and new life, and the promise of new beginnings.

We are living – have been living – in challenging times.
We watch as governments seem broken,
as world leaders seem driven by power for the sake of power itself
and their own self-seeking ambitions...
we hear lies and false news
and wonder who is speaking truth to power –
where is the accountability,
the responsibility;
the stability?
We feel the divisions,
and sometimes experience a sense of living in the shadows not the light...

Who do we look to in such a time as this?
Who will show us what power – used well and wisely looks like?
Who will strengthen us and help us keep on going
with words of comfort, and blessing?
Who will encourage us to offer words of comfort and blessing to others?
Jesus Christ, our King:
firstborn of all creation,
hope of our salvation,
sufferer of crucifixion,
living proof of resurrection.
We look to him;
are strengthened by him,
are encouraged by our friends and companions in the faith to keep on going.
We find ways to walk as he walked through life,
for he is our King,
for he has shown us the way,
for he has faith in us that we can follow him.
As we listen to others,
as we protect, and comfort, reconcile, and bless...
as we live our lives using the power we have in service and care for others –
we find that the most radical manifesto ever imagined and dreamt of
is the power of love.

Power.
On this last day of the church year,
we remind ourselves of who our King is,
as we step forward into a new church year and, move into the season of Advent:
the season of watching and waiting,
of yearning and longing for Christ’s coming,
and, as we hold firm to God’s promise of deliverance,
we remember in hope that life, here and now,
and in the heavenly hereafter,
can be better than this.
We walk into Advent,
and wait for the coming of the light –
and for the coming of new life
as we strain to hear the first cries of the babe in the manger.
We walk into Advent
even though we live in uncertain times,
even though we may feel afraid and wonder what will come.
We walk into Advent,
and walk into each new day with confidence –
for even though we may not have confidence
in earthly powers,
we can have confidence in Christ, our King.
He is our hope.
And he is the one,
who speaks comfort to our fears,
reminds us that we are reconciled with God,
and who offers us
words of promise and blessing...
and who shows us the way to Paradise.

Let’s pray:
Christ our King –
Word of life...
you are God’s ‘good news’ story.
The daily news reads like bad news,
stories of death and destruction
litter the front pages,
crying for attention.

that we sometimes cannot bear to give.

The submitted ‘copy’
of the story in our world
is one of tyranny and oppression,
greed and a lack of care,
inhumanity and desperation
and makes our hearts cry:
‘God, where are you?’

Yet within us lies
the sovereign truth of love
which reminds that the past
has held atrocities that
the present does not know,
and the future holds a promise
that the present cannot crush.

And so, in your strength,
the strength of the
Word of the One
who walked the earth as the living God,
we will endure,
we will rejoice
and so, we will hold faith
that humanity will endure,
humanity will rejoice.
Christ, our King,
You came as a babe,
you lived and breathed,
that we can know that God lives
and that we too shall live.
What peace,
what hope,
what promise is this?
It is the promise of God,
the peace of God,
the promise of life,
the peace of life.
It is blessing. ...
It is your good news story,
Christ, our King,
and it is enough. Amen.

News, events, info: wk beg.11 Nov thru 20th Nov

What's happening over the next wee while...

Minister’s time off:
Nikki is using up her leftover annual leave before Advent and Christmas begin.
She’ll be off work from Tues 12th to Thur 20th Nov.
Urgent pastoral matters/ funeral cover will be provided by:
the Rev. George Shand who can be contacted on 01899 309400.
For any ongoing parish queries, please contact: Heather Watt, our Session Clerk on 01899 850211

Wednesday 13 Nov, 2pm:
the Guild meets in the Church hall and our speaker will be the Rev. Ali Pandian,
Hospital Chaplain at Wishaw General.

Thurs 14 Nov, 7pm: 
‘Wordworks’ writing group meets at the Colebrooke Arms Hotel in Crawfordjohn.
This group is open to anyone – bring something you may be writing, or something from a writer
you enjoy and would like to share.

Sunday 17 November, 10.30:
we welcome the Rev. Dr Anne Logan former Minister of Stockbridge Parish Church,
as she conducts worship for us in Nikki's absence.

Parish Magazine: volunteers needed for distribution.
The Christmas edition of the Parish Magazine is now back from the printers.
Over the last few editions, so many of you have kindly offered your time to help distribute
the magazine through the Parish. If you’re able to take some to drop through letter boxes
in your street, or wider village, or to some of the outlying farms, please see Dee,
who is co-ordinating this. And many thanks, as ever, for helping with this –
it can’t be done without you!

Sun worship, Nov 10: morning service, Remembrance Sunday

This from our service at 10.30 in the parish church at Abington...


READINGS/ Matt 5:43-48 and Eph 6:10-18


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

We’ve all heard the old saying:
‘Sticks and stones will break my bones,
but names will never hurt me.’

And you know, over the years,
I’ve come to look upon that particular saying with a healthy dose of scepticism.
While that may be the case that name-calling
won’t necessarily bruise your body or break a bone, that’s not the whole picture:
repeated, ongoing name-calling
can bruise the soul – can be soul-destroying;
it can break your sense of self down, bit by bit causing emotional and psychological harm.
It can be a powerful tool to dehumanise a person,
to effectively cause someone to become no one,
something other...
something other than human.
And when you’ve done that, you can justify any amount of bad behaviour...
Which is why name-calling is such a powerful weapon for those fighting wars:
it turns people into things –
faceless enemies that need to be destroyed at all costs.

And so, with the onset of the First World War, the propagandists got to work.
They produced countless recruitment posters
appealing to those who craved release from the humdrum of everyday life,
or to those who had been raised on heroic tales and wanted to be
noble and heroic themselves – fighters in a just and noble cause.
And in the midst of these, there were posters referring to those on the other side of the conflict as:
‘Murderers’
‘Barbarians’
‘Savages’
Posters designed to produce outrage,
urging their readers to avenge the dire doings of such ‘monsters’ –
posters trumpeting:
‘The Hun is at the gate!’
and
‘Destroy the mad brutes’
with depictions of the enemy as foul, slavering monsters devouring the innocent.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the battle lines,
the same thing was going on the other way around.
All sides in the conflict were at the same game:
doing their best to show the very worst in the other...
doing their best to demonstrate that they were not fighting normal, everyday human beings,
but terrifying beasts that needed to be destroyed -
dehumanising and othering the enemy.
In the end,
‘Sticks and stones will break my bones,
but names will never hurt me,’
is utter tosh:
as the propagandists knew and still know, name-calling can, ultimately, pave the way to killing.
Words matter –
words are powerful and need to be handled with care.
While meaning something else entirely, that old war saying ‘careless talk costs lives’
could be very readily re-purposed in this case.

In that great classic, ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’,
we see that tension between viewing the one
being fought as something other than human,
and realising, in the end, just how human they are...
During a raid across ‘no man’s land’, the main character in the novel, Paul,
dives for safety in a bomb crater to wait out a raid by the enemy.
At some point, someone falls into the crater with him.
Instinct takes over, and Paul immediately stabs the man.
He is now in the crater, for hours,
in the darkness,
in the mud,
with the man who takes a long time to die.
It is his first kill
and, it is ...traumatic.
Gradually, his own humanity asserts itself –
he helps his enemy,
makes him a little more comfortable, gives him water.
The wound, though, is mortal.
Eventually, the man dies.
As young Paul looks at his enemy up close,
the faceless enemy becomes human, just as he is.
Paul wonders about this man, his life, his loves.
‘I close his eyes. 
They are brown, his hair is black and a bit curly at the sides. 
The mouth is full and soft beneath his moustache; the nose is slightly arched, 
the skin brownish; it is now not so pale as it was before, when he was still alive....
No doubt his wife still thinks of him; she does not know what has happened. 
He looks as if he would have often have written to her;
she will still be getting mail from him.
To-morrow, in a week's time - perhaps even a stray letter a month hence. 
She will read it, and in it he will be speaking to her.’
As Paul effectively ‘re-humanises’ his enemy, he is filled with remorse
and a desire to apologise, make amends:
'I speak to him and say to him: 
"Comrade, I did not want to kill you. 
If you jumped in here again, I would not do it, 
if you would be sensible too. 
But you were only an idea to me before, 
an abstraction that lived in my mind and called forth its appropriate response. 
It was that abstraction I stabbed. 
But now, for the first time, I see you are a man like me. 
I thought of your hand-grenades, of your bayonet, of your rifle; 
now I see your wife and your face and our fellowship. 
Forgive me, comrade. 
We always see it too late. 
Why do they never tell us that you are poor devils like us, 
that your mothers are just as anxious as ours, 
and that we have the same fear of death, 
and the same dying and the same agony. 
Forgive me, comrade; how could you be my enemy? 
If we threw away these rifles and this uniform you could be my brother...’

Paul will later find the soldier’s pocket-book,
and learn more about this man through the letters and photographs
that fall from its open pages.
Paul learns his name – Gerard Duval;
learns his trade – printer;
learns that he does indeed have a wife, and a daughter
as he looks upon them standing by an ivy clad wall.
His enemy is not a beast, rather, he is a fragile human being:
so very human, so very normal.
Sticks and stones...
and names that can do terrible, terrible damage.

We know now, what those who entered into the First World War did not:
that it wasn’t to be the ‘war to end all wars.’
We know that other wars have followed,
we know other names that have been used within the machinery of war.
Yesterday marked the 81st anniversary of the Kristallnacht pogrom
against Jewish people in Germany and Austria.
90 Jews were murdered.
Hundreds of synagogues were burnt.
In the years preceding, and, in the war that would begin the following year,
a long campaign using words had been waged against those who were Jewish...
dehumanising words,
words describing Jewish people as:
‘sub-human’
‘parasites’
‘vermin’...
Words that lulled people into an acceptance of genocide.

Words have continued to be employed down the decades since,
in order to wear the cogs of conscience down to allow for horrors to continue.
And friends, as an aside, I am very concerned about the way words
are currently being used within political debates and in the reporting of them by the media:
politicians and journalists are playing a deadly game when using words such as:
‘surrenderers’
‘traitors’
‘mutineers’
‘enemies of the people’
‘fascists’...
these from all sides of the political fence.
It’s language that’s seen the rise in death threats to different politicians,
and, in the case of Jo Cox, her death.
It does feel like democracy is broken when we can’t
debate differences of opinion without ‘othering’ and name-calling.
Let’s get away from that:
it is entirely possible to hold different viewpoints and have a civilised discussion,
and even learn from each other.
There can be courtesy, listening, respect, even if you still strongly disagree at the end.
‘Help me understand why you think this...
talk me through it so I can see where you’re coming from,’ is always a good approach.

Wherever we may find ourselves –
in life,
on the political spectrum,
when faced with those who for whatever reason wish us harm –
what is our response to conflict of all kinds as followers of Jesus?
First, we look to scripture, and what we see in our reading from Matthew
is Jesus, the Word of life,
using words of love.
Words that rehumanise.
He calls upon us to not only love our neighbour,
but to ‘love our enemies’.
He calls upon us to pray for those who persecute us.
To actively attempt to love our enemies,
to do the work of praying for them...
involves imagination:
it is the work of seeing the person.
Trying to move past the fear,
to move past the hatred,
to move beyond bitterness,
and begin to imagine who they are,
what their motivations are,
their background, their families.
To see beyond the label,
even if what someone has done is horrific, is ‘beastly’ even, to see that they are human.
Sometimes, that’s a harder thing to work through than making monsters of them.
If this is indeed a human being, what was it that caused them to do
whatever it is they may have done?
‘Othering’ is almost too easy:
accepting that someone is human and has done awful things is hard and sobering work.
It makes us ask hard questions of ourselves:
if the same circumstances were to arise... might we, too, be capable of terrible things?
So:
Love.
Pray.
Break down the wall...
see the person.
To love is the hardest thing we do –
it is both a beautiful and terrible thing,
powerful and vulnerable.
There is nothing at all wishy-washy about love.

In calling us to love,
in calling us to pray,
Jesus asks us to break damaging and recurring patterns of human behaviour.
It is the work of peace-making, peace-building,
for God’s kingdom is one that is harmonious –
the peaceful, peaceable kingdom.
But how do we do this hard task of loving and of praying for those
who we may find it difficult to see as fellow human beings?
Again, we turn to God’s word.
Relying on our strength alone, it’s almost impossible.
And so the writer to those in the church in Ephesus effectively says:
‘no, no, beloved, not in your strength, do this relying on God’s strength.
Wear spiritual armour, for loving is hard and can feel like a great battle.
In God’s power, you will find that you can stand firm, and do this task of loving 
that you’ve been called to.’

As we remember today, all those who have fought in wars,
those who are currently fighting,
and all those who have been caught up in conflict over this last century...
may we put on love as our armour,
may we commit to breaking the cycle of conflict –
may love help us truly see each other:
as human,
as fragile,
as precious in God’s sight;
and may the power of God’s love, lived within our lives,
finally see an end to war,
where all can live in peace with one another,
and in doing,
not wither and perish, but rather,
where all may blossom and flourish. Amen.

Evening worship: simple Communion with music and reflection

After the busyness of Remembrance Sunday morning and afternoon, 

join us at Holy Trinity Chapel, Lamington, 

for a simplified Communion 

accompanied by music from the Taize Community.

A space to be still and listen for God's voice in the quietness.

Acts of Remembrance around the parish 10 Nov.

LEST WE FORGET...

Sun 10 Nov.:
A list of Acts of Remembrance
happening around the parish

And on Mon. 11 Nov.:
Leadhills Primary School meets at the Memorial
just before 11am ...
for an Act of Remembrance

News, events, info. for wk beg. 3 Nov

Thurs 7 Nov., 7pm: Kirk Session meets in the Church Hall.

Sun 10 Nov, 6.30pm: Evening worship:
Music and Meditation Communion service at Holy Trinity Chapel, Lamington
--------------------------------------------------
REMEMBRANCE SUNDAY SERVICES:
Sun 10 Nov, 10.30am, Morning Worship
12.30pm: Leadhills - Act of Remembrance at Village Memorial
1.30pm: Crawford - Act of Remembrance at the Village Memorial
--------------------------------------------------
Centenary Poppies Project: 
The Centenary poppies are now available for purchase via donation
[min. £1] All monies raised will be given to both Help for Heroes and Poppy Scotland.
They can be found in the vestibule.

Minister’s time off this week: Wednesday

Moderator’s visit to Upper Clyde Parish: 
a very big thanks to all who were able to come along to parts of the Moderator’s flying visit around the parish. Special thanks for those who turned out at the church - who helped set up, serve, and clear away. The Moderator, Colin Sinclair, and his wife, Ruth, enjoyed their visit with us. An unexpected reunion occurred between Ruth Sinclair and Cathie Craig – who’d last seen each other many years before in Uganda, where Ruth’s father worked as a doctor. Small world indeed!

Food for the journey: spiritual nourishment for the rest of the week...
This week turn the words from Revelation into a mini-prayer: “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honour and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created.” Use it before meals, as you waken and go to sleep, as you hear news, as you meet people and say good-bye. It can become a small blessing, awareness of God in everything even the tarnished and grey.

Sun worship Nov 3: Welcome and water, worship and wonder, and even 'wow'

This morning we welcomed wee Gregor into God's family through
the Sacrament of Baptism.

We also did a little 'upside-down Aussie' magic - with thanks to Jake for being a most excellent volunteer ...
thinking about faith and trust, and using a glass of water, we wondered if there might be a way to keep from having an accidental extra baptism if we turned the 3/4 full glass of water upside down over Jake's head...
The Minister was rather relieved that her practice at home had paid off, although it was handy that Jake had his waterproofs and hood on 'just in case'.
Many gratifying 'oooohs' from the congregation when the trick worked.


Our readings this morning were from Ps 33 and Revelation 4:1-11, picking up the theme of God's worthiness to be praised.

We thought about the glimpse of heaven offered through the open door of John's vision, how impossible it was to describe the impossible, and, with a wee nod to the Wizard of Oz, reflected on Dorothy's comment that 'there's no place like [our heavenly home]', of God's faithfulness, of those who've gone before us in the faith, and of our own faith journey leading us to that open door where we are welcomed in...

A busy, full, and fun service, and a big 'thank you' to the many small helpers throughout!