Worship, Sun 29 March - Lazarus

Hello everyone, welcome to our online worship for what is the 5th Sunday in Lent.
How are you doing in these odd times?
I hope you're keeping well, getting on with the business of staying at home as much as possible, and that, although separated from others due to the circumstances... that you're not feeling isolated.
If you'd like a wee blether, or feeling the need of a listening ear, please don't hesitate to get in touch with me [Nikki] at the manse on 01864 502139 - and especially if you're stuck for someone picking up and delivering a prescription ... happy to help on that as I can.
Over the course of the weeks we're in lockdown, along with Sunday reflections for home worship, I'll be posting wee bits 'n bobs during the week - prayers, poems, reflections, maybe even the occasional hymn you can listen and even sing along to, so do check in and see what's on here. At the bottom of each post,
there's space to leave comments, so feel free to do so [n.b. they are checked first before going up to the page],
it'd be great to hear from you. If you fancy requesting a favourite hymn to go up here during
the week - if I can find it, I'll put it on for you!

And now, let's have a time of worship together, as much as we're able...
Our theme this week comes from the Gospel reading for the day - John 11:1-45 -
which tells the story of the raising of Lazarus...
the theme is one of hope - even in the darkest of situations.
Let's begin with prayer.

Prayer/
God of all consolation and compassion,
your Son comforted Martha and Mary;
your breath alone brings life
to dry bones and weary souls.
Pour out your Spirit upon us,
that we may face despair and fear
and our imposed isolation
with the hope of resurrection
and faith in the One
who called Lazarus forth from the grave.

When nothing is right,
when we are weary and lost,
when clouds dull the sky,
help us to be still.

When our cries are unheeded,
when no effort bears fruit,
when the sun sets,
help us to be still.

When love is over,
when hope is gone,
when darkness covers the land,
help us to be still.

For in being still,
in refusing to panic or despair,
we shall come to know that God is there,
suffering alongside and with us,
waiting to show us stepping-stones through the swirling waters,
and to help us sing a new song.*

When words are hard to find,
we turn to the words you shared with your friends, and pray:
Our Father,
who art in heaven
hallowed be thy name,
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our debts,
as we forgive our debtors.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever.
Amen
*words in italics by Rev Kate Compston

Hymn/ There is a Redeemer
think of this as a musical pause for listening to and meditating on, or, as the video comes
with the words, if you'd like, sing along...

Reading/ John 11:1-45
The Death of Lazarus
1Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha.
2Mary was the one who anointed the Lord with perfume and wiped his feet with her hair;
her brother Lazarus was ill. 3So the sisters sent a message to Jesus,
‘Lord, he whom you love is ill.’
4But when Jesus heard it, he said,
‘This illness does not lead to death; rather it is for God’s glory, so that the Son of God
may be glorified through it.’
5Accordingly, though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, 6after having heard
that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. 7Then after this
he said to the disciples,
‘Let us go to Judea again.’
8The disciples said to him,
‘Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?’
9Jesus answered,
‘Are there not twelve hours of daylight? Those who walk during the day do not stumble,
because they see the light of this world.
10But those who walk at night stumble, because the light is not in them.’
11After saying this, he told them, ‘Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going
there to awaken him.’
12The disciples said to him, ‘Lord, if he has fallen asleep, he will be all right.’
13Jesus, however, had been speaking about his death, but they thought that he was
referring merely to sleep. 14Then Jesus told them plainly,
‘Lazarus is dead. 15For your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.
But let us go to him.’
16Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow-disciples,
‘Let us also go, that we may die with him.’

17When Jesus arrived, he found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days.
18Now Bethany was near Jerusalem, some two miles away, 19and many of the Jews had
come to Martha and Mary to console them about their brother. 20When Martha heard that
Jesus was coming, she went and met him, while Mary stayed at home. 21Martha said to Jesus,
‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22But even now I know that God
will give you whatever you ask of him.’
23Jesus said to her,
‘Your brother will rise again.’
24Martha said to him,
‘I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day.’
25Jesus said to her,
‘I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live,
26and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?’
27She said to him,
‘Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.’

28When she had said this, she went back and called her sister Mary, and told her privately,
‘The Teacher is here and is calling for you.’
29And when she heard it, she got up quickly and went to him. 30Now Jesus had not yet come
to the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. 31The Jews who were with
her in the house, consoling her, saw Mary get up quickly and go out. They followed her because
they thought that she was going to the tomb to weep there. 32When Mary came where Jesus was
and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him,
‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’
33When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was
greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. 34He said,
‘Where have you laid him?’
They said to him,
‘Lord, come and see.’
35Jesus began to weep. 36So the Jews said,
‘See how he loved him!’
37But some of them said,
‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?’

38 Then Jesus, again greatly disturbed, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone
was lying against it. 39Jesus said,
‘Take away the stone.’
Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him,
‘Lord, already there is a stench because he has been dead for four days.’
40Jesus said to her,
‘Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?’
41So they took away the stone. And Jesus looked upwards and said,
‘Father, I thank you for having heard me.
42I knew that you always hear me, but I have said this for the sake of the crowd standing here,
so that they may believe that you sent me.’
43When he had said this, he cried with a loud voice,
‘Lazarus, come out!’
44The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in
a cloth. Jesus said to them,
‘Unbind him, and let him go.’
45Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did,
believed in him.
                               May God  bless us as we read his word. Amen.

Reflection/
A common reading for this particular Sunday in the season of Lent is the above passage from John's gospel: the story of the raising of Lazarus. If you happen to listen to worship on the radio or catch a service online or on the telly, you may very well find that this is the focus scripture for worship [you might also hear the story from Ezekiel of the valley of the dry bones, and also Psalm 130].
In fact, you'll find yourself in company with many around the world who will also be hearing and thinking about this reading - the Body of Christ both local and global.
While always a compelling story, and a foreshadowing of what's ahead as we move towards
Palm Sunday and the unfolding events of Holy Week and Good Friday, somehow this year,
the story of Lazarus, his sisters, and their friend Jesus takes on an odd resonance.

In the run up to the story, we have Lazarus, ill.
There's the anxiety and fear of his sisters as they try to tend to him and, hope that all will be well.
There's the friend who may be of help, who is called, but who is delayed.
So many emotions, so much energy expended, and in the end, the outcome that's most dreaded
becomes the reality for this small, close-knit group of siblings.
Lazarus dies.
Anxiety and fear are replaced by desolation and despair, and of hopes dashed.
Martha and Mary turn their attentions to preparing for a funeral and a burial.
Lazarus is physically distanced - put into the isolation of the tomb;
the stone is rolled over the opening.
For him, life has ended. For his sisters, life goes on, although now changed forever.
The sisters mourn, along with others in the wider community.

While separated from this particular story by nearly 2 000 years, as I read it over the course
of the week and in the particular set of circumstances we find ourselves in at the moment,
it really resonated.
I wondered about the current atmosphere of anxiety and fear concerning physical well-being;
wondered about the many emotions, the many feelings, being experienced as a result
of what might come to pass with COVID-19 -
and of those whose hopes have already been dashed as loved ones have succumbed.
And, I wondered too, about the physical distancing that is now so much a part of our lives -
of being communities in the midst of lockdown... the doors of our homes not so much opening,
but firmly closing us in.

I was saying to a pal the other day that while Lent may be a time of giving up, that it felt like
the 'lentiest' of Lents this year. Whether in lockdown or out and about doing essential work,
there's a collective sense of giving up things, and feelings of loss;
a collective grief, perhaps as we work through the loss of the everyday sense of normal -
daily routines, particular ways of working, of being,
catching up with friends over a cuppa,
ordinary shopping and school runs...
loss too, for many of work and income.
While we're not quite Lazarus, some of us may feel a little like normal everyday life as we
know it has ended. And yet, perhaps we're also like Martha and Mary, life also goes on,
but oh, how it's changed.
What do we do?

First, perhaps, is not to be hard on ourselves for how we may be feeling at any given moment.
There's no one way to get through a difficult time, just as there's no blueprint for grief -
a current hashtag doing the rounds on social media is #BeKind - and it's not just about being
kind and looking out for neighbours... we need to be kind to ourselves as well. If there are times
when we feel a bit wobbly and overcome, it's important that we're kind to ourselves about that
- part of the reality we're experiencing, it's part of how we're processing and dealing with something
that can feel so very much out of our control...it's okay to feel it. Just as it's okay to talk to God
about it - while we might think 'this is such a small thing and there are other things going on
that are more important', there is nothing that can't be taken to and offered up to God -
God doesn't discount our pain, our worries, our fears, so we don't have to do that either.
And it might also be a very helpful thing to get in touch with a friend or family member and
talk about it with them - it may give them the freedom to say what they're feeling as well?
We can create a community of shared loving kindness, even in the midst of our physical separation.

But, then, there's also going back to that story of Lazarus.
His death is not the end of the story.
There's more.
Lent may be the season traditionally associated with giving up things [or taking things on],
but it's also the season of waiting.
As people who follow Jesus, we wait in hope.
The story of Lazarus points to something unexpected.
Just as Jesus comes back to Bethany,
just as a stone is rolled away and somehow life emerges and Lazarus is restored,
so we are a community whose hope is founded upon
One who comes back not just to Bethany, but from beyond death itself -
we are a community whose hope is founded upon life, upon resurrection.
We need not fear death - our job is to explore and to live life.
So, my current take on the Lazarus story:
I wonder...
at some point, just as the season of Lent will pass away,
so our time of waiting and physical isolating will also pass.
When we emerge from behind our locked doors into broader horizons,
how will the isolation, the waiting, all the things we couldn't have or couldn't do
affect the way we live?
Already, in the midst of the hard time we're in, while some people may be acting unhelpfully,
so many people have been acting heroically, and wonderfully and kindly to complete strangers.
Already, old ways of doing things, old ways of being, have had to change - there's been such
an outpouring of creativity to find new ways of being about to function as human beings
in a strange new world.

My own hope as we emerge blinking into the sunlight of a hard-won freedom
is that our current 'normal' will be changed -
that systems and ideologies that have been shown not to be helpful will be challenged and changed,
that each one of us, having been separated, may find a deeper appreciation for one another...
and, not take each other, or what we have, perhaps so much for granted.
Perhaps we may just experience life in a deeper, richer, fuller way -
I'm curious to see what happens - as a start, here's to building communities of creativity and kindness.
For Lazarus, and his sisters, once Jesus came back to Bethany, nothing was ever quite the same again.
For us, as people of faith, once Jesus came back from death itself, nothing can ever be the same:
the doors of life have been thrown wide open - we're invited to unwrap the things that bind us and live.
Even as we wait in the darkness of Lent and in the shadow of COVID-19, the light of hope can
never fully be extinguished for we worship a God whose Son is 'the resurrection and the life.'
Augustine, that great 5th century African theologian, reminds us who we are:
'We are the Easter people, and "alleluia" is our song.'

May you know God's peace and love, and may you live in the light and life of the Spirit,
this day and always. Amen.

Hymn/ Christ be our light

Prayers of concern/
In this time of COVID-19, we pray:
When we aren't sure,
God, help us be calm;
when information comes from all sides, correct and not,
help us to discern;
when fear makes it hard to breathe,
and anxiety seems to be the order of the day,
slow us down, God;
help us to reach out with our hearts,
when we can't touch with our hands;
help us to be socially connected,
when we have to be socially distant;
help us to love as perfectly as we can,
knowing that "perfect love casts out all fear."

For the doctors, we pray,
for the nurses, we pray,
for the technicians and the cleaners and the
aides and the caregivers, we pray,
for the researchers and theorists,
the epidemiologists and investigators,
for those who are sick,
and those who are grieving, we pray,
for all who are affected,
all around the world...
we pray
for safety,
for health,
for wholeness.

May we feed the hungry,
give drink to the thirsty,
clothe the naked and house those without homes;
may we walk with those who feel they are alone,
and may we do all that we can to heal
the sick—
in spite of the epidemic,
in spite of the fear.

Help us, O God,
that we might help each other.

In the love of the Creator,
in the name of the Healer,
in the life of the Holy Spirit that is in all and with all,
we pray.
May it be so.
Amen.

Poem for reflection/ Martha, on the death of Lazarus

She cannot throw his shoes away
and runs her thumb along the grooves -
perhaps he’ll need them back one day?

She feels the hollows toes have made,
and feels his presence in the room -
she cannot throw his shoes away.

She sits and holds her tears at bay
looks at his clothes, smells death’s perfume -
perhaps he’ll need them back one day?

She stumbles in her grief, feels rage,
feels numb, feels sad; how grief consumes -
she cannot throw his shoes away.

She rises, at the Rabbi’s gaze
and, shoes in hand, a small hope blooms -
perhaps he’ll need them back one day?

‘Come out!’ she hears the Rabbi say
and signs of life sound from the tomb:
she cannot throw his shoes away
perhaps he’ll need them back one day?
           by Nik Mac, 2019

Music meditation/
The suggested Psalm for today is Ps 130 and there's a lovely version of it with a rather familiar
beginning, and ending... a lovely hymn of comfort and hope.

Closing prayer/
Our closing prayer was written by the Rev Lezley Stewart, who works as a
Recruitment and Support Secretary for Ministries for the Church of Scotland.
This was sent out to all CofS ministers this week, and put up on the CofS website.
It's too good not to share:

Locked down...
There were other doors
once locked in fear,
in a time of waiting
and distress.

It was an uncertain,
questioning time -
longing for what had been known
and treasured before.

Into that space,
calming and soothing,
came these welcome words -
“Peace be with you.”

Peace be with you in every worry,
in every sleepless night,
in every loss experienced,
in every comfort now distant.

Peace be with you in every certainty,
in the shared burden of these days,
in the unexpected connections,
in the gift of another sunset and sunrise.

Peace be with you and yours,
the deepest peace,
the strongest peace,
the peace that passes all understanding.

Christ is our peace
and is in our midst.
His words echo again -
“Peace be with you.”
                            Amen

For further reflection over the week, should you wish: full sermons from previous years/
If you'd like to read some previous sermons on this text over the next wee while, you
can find them at the following two links below - and do bear in mind that sermons are
meant to be spoken/preached, not read, so the way I put them together is done a little
differently to writing an essay, as such... they take on a particular energy of their own
on any given Sunday, and I do often go 'off-piste' on the day and add or subtract parts.
With that caveat, here we are:
HERE from 2019 in July
and
HERE from 2018 in February

A prayer...

Today, a prayer from our friends in Shetland Church of Scotland - used with thanks:

Spirit of God, where we cannot be, you can be.
Where we cannot be -
in isolated homes, in hospitals, in Intensive Care Units -
yet you can be.

Holy One, our Comforter, 
where we cannot be,
take our place by their bedside,
and comfort our loved ones for us.
Hold their hand for us,
speak to them softly,
ease their physical pain,
and calm their fears with soft assurance
that they are surrounded and upheld by love.

Breath of life, when our breath catches in fear,
keep breathing for us,
in life, and in death, and in life eternal.
In the name of Christ, Amen.

Food for the journey: bite-sized spiritual nourishment - bread

Reading/ John 6:1-15; 25-51

Reflection/
Yesterday, a friend was asking me for a particular bread recipe. Later, it got me to thinking on John 6 - and reading again the story of Jesus inviting a rather big group of folk to share in a picnic lunch, and then later, referring to himself as
'the bread of life' when talking with his friends.

Given we're now officially in 'lockdown', there'll be no group picnicking for a good wee while; we are all of us just trying to work out how to navigate through these physically distanced, strange, uncharted COVID-19 waters we find ourselves in. As I thought of the bible reading, of bread, and of stories of people rediscovering baking due to a combination of time on hands and empty shelves in supermarkets, I also thought about life essentials and was reminded of preaching on this text last year, and asking the question: 'what do you hunger for?' 

At the moment, for many, it's an understandable hunger to feel safe and to stay well.
But, we also need food - both for body and for soul.
For those not on the so-called 'front lines', this time of enforced hunkering down in our homes can bring with it a mix of emotions and reactions and frustrations, but in an odd way, it might also just end up becoming a small gift. How to enter into this unexpected Sabbath, this unlooked for time and space?
So many of us may be more used to rushing about in all the every day business of human doing...
With our usual routines disrupted, maybe this time of slowing down offers us the time for human being -
time to slow down, time for families in one household to spend more time together [how's the home schooling going, folks?], time to phone or check in over the fence with our more vulnerable neighbours, time to rediscover old talents or learn some new skills, time to take stock, time to find our centre once again.
Time.
Perhaps this is a time for a great big collective pause to catch our breath.

What do you hunger for?
Maybe it's just to find a way to get through all of this. Fair enough. But how?
When I have time, I love making bread – the slow way – there’s something about the rhythm and process that lends itself to de-stressing, and for me, to prayer and meditation:
mixing, kneading, waiting, knocking back, kneading again, waiting...eventually baking.
Good bread takes time and patience and rewards you with something truly good to chew on -
a little bit like Jesus' words... sometimes you have to work a little more to get what he's saying, but with time and patience, they're words worth chewing on as well.
Given I have some time now because I'm not travelling about the parish, I'm taking up bread making again - though this time, with a twist. Something I've wanted to try for a long time is making sourdough bread, so, as of Monday, I've made the starter and am getting into the rhythm of feeding it over the next wee while until I can finally use it to make bread - 7 days to go. It may or may not work, but that's fine, because of the gift of time.

However you're approaching this particularly strange time we're in, stay in touch -
we may be physically separate, but we are still community.
What projects are you taking on? Share them in the reply box below.
And if the gift of time isn't quite feeling like such a gift, and is hanging heavy, well, there's
time to talk and time to listen - call a friend, or get in touch with me if you just want a blether.
We will get through this - with care, with kindness, and maybe even with bread.
Take care and stay safe, folks.

In the meanwhile, if you're up for a meditative activity, why not make some space to make some bread? There's a very simple recipe at the bottom of the post if you'd like to knock out a loaf sometime. As you make it, think of your favourite types of bread, and all the many different varieties of bread around the world.
And... some questions for reflection:    *What do you most appreciate about bread?
    *What is your favourite kind of bread - and why?
    *What does the phrase “the bread of life” stir in your mind?
    *Think about Jesus’ statement that he is the bread of life - what does that mean to you?

Prayer/ 

Even if you haven’t time to make bread, you might like to use the following prayer: 

There is nothing like the smell of baked bread. 

It fills a room, a house, with delicious aroma. 

It promises nourishment and confirms availability. 

It creates the sense of wellbeing and goodness and comfort... 

Lord, into this world let the living bread create such aroma. 

Let your love, justice and goodness travel far, wide and deep; 

let your spirit instil a sense of hope and wellbeing and comfort

in our homes, villages, nation, and world; 

let your grace be an ingredient available at the centre of everything. Amen.

Basic 4-step bread recipe/
Ingredients:
500g granary, strong wholewheat or white bread flour; [granary is my favourite]
7g sachet fast-action dried yeast;  1 tsp salt;  2 tblsp olive oil;  1 tblsp clear honey
Method:

1. Tip the flour, yeast and salt into a large bowl and mix together with your hands.
   Stir 300ml hand-hot water with the oil and honey,
   then stir into the dry ingredients to make a soft dough.
2. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 5 mins, until the dough no longer feels sticky, sprinkling with a little more flour if you need it.
3. Oil the loaf tin and put the dough in the tin, pressing it in evenly.
   Put in a large plastic food bag and leave to rise for 1 hr, until the dough has risen to fill the tin and it no longer springs back when you press it with your finger. 
4. Heat oven to 200C/fan 180C/gas 6.
   Make several slashes across the top of the loaf with a sharp knife,
   then bake for 30-35 mins until the loaf is risen and golden.
   Tip it out onto a cooling rack and tap the base of the bread to check it is cooked.
   It should sound hollow. Leave to cool.

And a little humour/

Feeding the 5 000 - revisited

Easter magazine, 2020

Hi everyone, hope you're all well and managing through our current lockdown.

Given the news from the Govt last night, most of our magazines will now not be able to be delivered as we'd hoped. Up until yesterday, the advice given to us had been that, as long as folk were ensuring to physically keep their distance, wear gloves, and just drop things through letterboxes without making contact, it was okay to distribute.
Both the message from the PM and FM now completely change that.
So... I've been trying to learn very quickly how to find a way of getting the magazine up on the blog and if you look at the tabs, you should now see one for our Easter magazine...
or just use this LINK
You may have to adjust your screen size for legibility, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy the magazine - and given the lead time for preparation, it was before the whole COVID-19 scenario had evolved in the way it has...

Worship, Sun 22 March:

Dear friends,
We are living in quite odd, and unsettling times. While we can't physically meet together for worship, there are other ways that we, as followers of Jesus can find other ways of being together while apart. Sharing worship reflections online via our blog, or posted through letterboxes for those who aren't online and have requested it, is one way. I'll aim to post online for Sunday by 10.30am and post through the various letterboxes at some point in the afternoon. 

Other ways we might do something together, while separate:

• Sundays: at some point between 10.30 and 11.30, our normal gathering time in the church building,
  take a moment to pause...
  - Remember who it is you worship - give praise to God - adoration
  - Give to God those things you may have said or done this week that you regret - confession
  - Find something [challenge: at least 3] that you're grateful for - thanksgiving
  - Remember the world, others, and your own particular needs - intercession
• When you're able to access the reflections, think about them, pray the prayer given
  for the day - or your own prayer.
• 7pm each day [or just Sunday]:
  you might like to stop and pause - perhaps light a candle...
  [although if that's not your thing, that's fine - sometimes just the act of lighting a candle and looking at the
  light is a helpful reminder of God, light in our darkness - or of Jesus, the Light of the world] 
  remember:
  those working on the 'front lines' NHS staff in all their many different occupations;
  those involved in the food and essential items supply chain;
  those having to make policy decisions;
  those anxious about work/ finance;
  those who feel isolated and alone;
  those who have the virus...
  Also, call to mind, as you can, 3 things that you're grateful for, and give thanks to God.
  After you've done this, think of a friend or neighbour who may be feeling isolated -
  why not give them a call and have a chat?

READING FOR TODAY: Ps 23
A psalm of David.

1 The Lord is my shepherd, 

   I lack nothing.

2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,

   he leads me beside quiet waters,

3 he restores my soul.

   He guides me along the right paths 

   for his name’s sake.

4 Even though I walk

    through the valley of the shadow of death

   I will fear no evil,

   for you are with me;

   your rod and your staff,

   they comfort me.

5 You prepare a table before me

    in the presence of my enemies.

   You anoint my head with oil;

    my cup overflows.

6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me

    all the days of my life,

    and I will dwell in the house of the Lord 

forever.

A wee note:
a couple of years ago, we did a 6 week series on this psalm - if you click THIS it will take you
to all 6 sermons - scroll down until you get to week 1 and feel free to work your way through
them if you like. I'm doing some borrowing from week 1 for today's reflection...

REFLECTION:
A friend said to me via a text on Saturday 'who thought that 4 weeks ago people would be
panic buying in the supermarkets?' The reference to four weeks was when we'd last caught up
over a cheerful lunch and then movie matinee in Edinburgh. My friend's text went on about how
now, even the cinemas were shut and the restaurants as well, and that she was in self-isolation
at the request of her grown children.
These are strange days we're living in. And, thinking of that, and of Ps 23, I'm wondering about
the whole notion of panic buying and verse 1 of the psalm...
'The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.'

I'm a great fan of the Guild in the Church of Scotland, and the impressive energy and enthusiasm,
and vision it has when thinking about particular projects to support. Especially, time and time
again, I'm drawn to their great motto 'whose we are, and whom we serve.' At any time, and
particularly in times such as these, it's helpful for us as people of faith to remember just whose
we are. Ps 23 reminds us that we are the Lord's: He is our shepherd, the One who watches over
us constantly, the One who guides us, the One who rounds us up when we're a little all over
the place. We are His, and, equally, He is ours - we are in a relationship built on love. And this
faithful Shepherd is reliable, trustworthy: we have all we need in Him, we 'lack nothing.'

If David did, indeed, write this psalm, he knew what it was to be a shepherd, the dangers
involved in protecting the flocks from wild beasts, from wild weather, and sometimes from
themselves when taking a wrong turn had landed them in a tricky place with no clear way out.
He knew where the best pastures were to be found and, in a dry and arid land, where the watering
places were. He knew their needs, and tending to his flocks, made sure they lacked nothing. Later,
as king over Israel and tending the nation, he writes the psalm.

When David writes about the Lord as a shepherd, he catches a small sense of the greater work
of tending the world, and of tending us, that the Lord does. And, having known the dangers
that go along with shepherding flocks and people, to think of the Lord as the Great Shepherd
gives him comfort and a particular perspective on life. While knowing all the difficulties and
challenges, while aware of all that may be lacking - no luxuries in the shepherding business -
he doesn't focus on the lack. Instead of thinking about what he doesn't have, what isn't available,
what can't be done, David's focus is upon the Lord, who is shepherd.
The Lord in whom we lack nothing; who supplies our needs.
What do we have?
David simply answers the Lord, and he is enough.
In this odd time where many are focusing upon lack to the point of stripping supermarket
shelves bare, the psalm reminds us that we need not fear:
we belong to the one who is constant.
As we focus on him, in this odd time of physical distancing and self-isolation,
perhaps this is just the right time to think a little more creatively about
what we do have, what we can do, and just what our true needs really are -
and how, even from our homes, we might still follow, and serve, the One to whom we belong.
We have been through difficult times before, there will be difficult times in our future,
and in the meantime, we will get through this, together for:
'The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.'

Hang on to those words, for they've been the source of strength and comfort for generations

upon generations of the faithful - the ones who Jesus calls his friends. Amen.

PRAYER:

God,
we are living through trying times,
when fear and worry can overwhelm some,
while others ignore good advice.
May we all work together to get through this pandemic
as safely and as carefully as we can.

We are thankful for all those people whose job it is to help and assist,
particularly for doctors and nurses,
carers and support staff in surgeries and hospitals,
putting themselves at risk in order to fulfil their calling to bring healing.
May they know that their work is life-affirming,
and may they be resilient and resourced.

We are also thankful for those people
who, often under the radar, make society work:
from delivery drivers to supermarket stockers,
from school staff to volunteer visitors,
and all manner of other roles in-between.
May they know they are valued and honoured,
and that we uplift them for the cohesion they bring to our communities.

We recognise that we are called at the moment
to look out for ourselves and those closest to us,
we are challenged to keep a healthy distance, physically, from each other,
but may that not deter us from making connections,
building new friendships,
tending existing relationships,
through all the tools we now have to hand,
from a phone call to a WhatsApp,
from an email to a postcard.
May we use this opportunity to build community,
to look out for one another,
not to be blind to the needs of our neighbour,
but to find ways to help.

We know that there will be lots of people and families
who will be struggling over these next months,
with tensions due to family circumstances,
with loneliness and isolation,
with money worries and job security fears,
and we hold them close in their anxiety.
May we provide encouragement and support
as best we can in these trying times.

We also pray for those who are unwell at this time,
for those with raised anxiety due to their age
or to underlying health conditions,
for those who are currently infected with COVID-19,
and for the families of those who have died.
May we offer kindness and hopefulness, even in the darkest of moments.

And when we emerge from the other end of this pandemic,
a vaccine having been found,
may we not lose sight of the power that comes
when we work together to be good neighbours.

Let us remember Jesus’ answer to the question,
“Which of all the commandments is most important?”
He replied:
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart
and with all your soul
and with all your mind
and with all your strength.
Love your neighbour as yourself.
There is no commandment greater than these.”
And let us remember:
The Lord is our Shepherd -
in him, we lack nothing.
Amen.

MOTHERING SUNDAY:
On this Mothering Sunday, let's give thanks for:
all who are mothers, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, and even great-great grandmothers;
for all who have stepped into our lives and been like mothers to us;
for all who have nurtured us, and loved us, and championed us...
and may those of us who have known such love, share that nurturing love with others.
On this day, when many try so hard to spend time together, but now can't because of self-isolation,
may the love that is there be felt even though hugs can't be shared right now, and may we find
fun and creative ways to be present even when we can't be physically present.

PASTORAL:
Please don't hesitate to get in touch with the Minister - whether just for a blether or a listening ear,
or if you're needing a prescription collected and delivered, or if she can be of help in any other
way. You may at times get the answering machine, but she will get back to you as soon as she can.
In the meantime, follow the latest advice from the Gov't, keep safe, and stay well!!

MISC:
Just to note that the Easter edition of the Parish magazine is back from the printers and will be
coming through letterboxes very soon. There's an insert noting some of the changes we've had
to make due to COVID-19.

A LITTLE TOPICAL HUMOUR:

Feel free to leave comments and let me know how I can improve this!

National Day of Prayer Sunday 22 March

The Church of Scotland has joined with other religious groups across the country to sign a letter
commending the Call for a National Day of Prayer in response to the Covid-19 pandemic.

Taking place on Sunday 22 March, people of faith are being encouraged 

to light a candle and place it in their window at 7pm.*

The letter asks that we "join in prayerful solidarity with this witness", describing the candle as
"a visible symbol of the light of life, Jesus Christ, the source of hope in this life."
The following prayer can be used when lighting the candle:

For all that is good in life, thank you,

For the love of family and friends, thank you,

For the kindness of good neighbour and Samaritan stranger, thank you.

May those who are vulnerable, hungry or homeless, experience support,

May those who are sick, know healing,

May those who are anxious or bereaved, sense comfort.

Bless and guide political leaders and decision-makers, with wisdom,

Bless and guide health workers and key workers, with strength and well-being, 

Bless and guide each one of us, as we adapt to a new way of living.

And may the light shining from our windows,

across road and wynd, glen and ben, kyle and isle,

be reflected in our hearts and hands and hopes.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

The signatories of the letter are:
Rt. Rev. Colin Sinclair, Moderator of the General Assembly, Church of Scotland.
Most Rev. Leo Cushley, Archbishop of St. Andrews and Edinburgh, Roman Catholic Church.
Most Rev. Mark Strange, Primus, on behalf of the College of Bishops, Scottish Episcopal Church.
Rev. John Fulton, Moderator, United Free Church of Scotland.
Rev. Dr David Pickering, Moderator, United Reformed Church (Scotland)
Rev. Martin Hodson, General Director, Baptist Union of Scotland.
Rev. Mark Slaney, District Chair, Methodist Church (Scotland)
Ms. Adwoa Bittle, Clerk to General Meeting for Scotland, Religious Society of Friends (Quakers)
Rev. May-Kane Logan, Chair, Congregational Federation in Scotland.
Rev. Jim Ritchie, District Superintendent, British Isles North District, Church of the Nazarene.
Pastor Chris Gbenle, Provincial Pastor, Province of Scotland, Redeemed Christian Church of God.
Lt. Col. Carol Bailey, Secretary for Scotland, Salvation Army.

* Please take all necessary fire precautions when using a lit candle. 
Ensure you remain with the lit candle at all times, and do not leave it to burn if you leave the room. 
Ensure there are no fabrics or materials such as curtains near the candle.

UPDATE ON COVID-19 AND THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND

It's with a very heavy heart that I put the following notice up just in from the Church of Scotland headquarters:

'We are asking that all gatherings for worship should cease until further notice, 

with effect from today, Wednesday 18th March 2020. 

This includes all Easter services. 

This includes, but is not restricted to,housegroups, meetings for youth work, and church cafes. 

It’s still possible for individuals to offer a livestreaming of a sermon and prayers.  

Sunday broadcasts of weekly services take place on 

Radio 4, and also on Radio Scotland'

In accordance with these instructions, there will now be no service of worship
at the parish church in Abington from Sunday onwards.
All evening services are also cancelled.

WORSHIP UPDATE: [22 APRIL]

A 'ROLLING' SERVICE OF WORSHIP WILL BE AVAILABLE 

ON OUR YOUTUBE CHANNEL FROM 10.30am SUNDAYS

PLEASE CLICK ON THIS LINK 

THEN LOOK AT 'CREATED PLAYLISTS' TO FIND THE SUNDAY YOU REQUIRE.

A POST WILL ALSO BE UP ON THE BLOG EACH SUNDAY MORNING

WITH A DIRECT LINK TO THAT DAY'S WORSHIP PLAYLIST

PASTORAL CARE/
Given pastoral visits in person will have to be put on hold, the minister will be only too happy
to chat on the phone as needed, and also:
to act as a delivery service to pick up prescriptions, essential items from the store, and such like.
Also, the minister is able to do referrals for people to the Food.Bank as needed.
Contact details for the minister, Nikki Macdonald, are:
Tel: 01864 502139
Email: minister.upperclyde(at)gmail.com
Please don't hesitate to be in touch if she can help you with anything, or you just want a wee chat.

In the meantime, stay safe, friends, keep an eye out for vulnerable neighbours, phone those
who are having to isolate - so they don't feel quite so isolated...
Let's be creative in the way we work together as a community in a time of physical separation.

I'm minded of the Aaronic blessing [from Numbers 6:24-26] at this time, as I sign off this post:

The Lord bless you and keep you;

the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you;

the Lord lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.

A prayer...

A prayer for times such as these...

The following was written by writer Nick Fawcett:

Lord of all,
we bring to you our world at this troubled time,
as coronavirus spreads across it with chilling speed,
and yet more chilling consequences.

We pray especially for people at particular risk:
those with lung conditions,
those with diabetes, hypertension, MS, cancer,
those who are frail and elderly –
so many for whom what might be a minor infection for others
could instead prove life threatening,
leaving them struggling to breathe
and potentially unable to do so.

We pray for those living with that frightening possibility,
doing their best to cope with the fear and uncertainty it brings,
and trying to safeguard their health as best they can.

We pray for families and friends,
terrified of unwittingly passing on the virus to loved ones,
seeking to balance work and life responsibilities
with the well being of their nearest and dearest.

We pray for those whose jobs will be affected,
who may find themselves without an income,
facing the resulting hardship that this will inevitably bring..

We pray for small businesses and independent traders,
faced by the likelihood of closure for weeks,
even months,
and, perhaps, permanently.
We pray for companies facing bankruptcy as cashflow dries up.
And we pray for economies as a whole,
confronted by the very real prospect of financial meltdown
and global recession.

We pray for hospitals and those who staff them –
for doctors,
nurses,
support staff,
ancillary workers –
all whose efforts will be so vital in days to come in helping those at risk to survive this virus,
yet who find themselves overworked and under-resourced.

We pray for those taking decisions as to the best way to cope with this crisis:
seeking on the basis of conflicting scientific advice to plan wisely for the future,
in order to protect as many as possible
and to maximise the effectiveness of whatever disruption may prove necessary.

Lord of all.
faced by the immensity of this challenge,
and by the level of fear and confusion felt by so many,
we put ourselves,
and our world,
into your hands.
Bring help,
bring hope,
bring healing,
Support and strengthen us through these dark days,
and whatever we may have to face,
help us to get through.
Amen.

Sermon, March 15, Lent 3: 'Love in the time of coronavirus'

READING: John 4:1-42

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.

The scene is a back alley in New York.
High rise surround it,
washing lines flap with drying clothes.
And, in the immediate foreground,
a young man is shifting barrels.
He looks up,
there’s a sense of hopefulness about him –
the world is full of possibilities...
what might it hold for him?
Eyes bright, he smiles,
and bursts into song:

Could be! Who knows?
There's something due any day;
I will know right away,
Soon as it shows.
It may come cannon-balling 
down through the sky,
Gleam in its eye,
Bright as a rose!

Who knows?
It's only just out of reach,
Down the block, on a beach,
Under a tree
I got a feeling there's a miracle due,
Gonna come true,
Coming to me!

Could it be? Yes it could.
Something's coming, something good,
If I can wait!
Something's coming,
I don't know what it is,
But it is
Gonna be great!

A little later on, he meets the girl of his dreams at a dance, they fall in love ...
maybe it is gonna be great.

I’m wondering if this might be ringing any bells –
what movie musical am I referring to?
...
Yep, West Side Story.
It’s a tale based on Romeo and Juliet, but set in the 1950’s...
instead of the Montagues and Capulets
you have two rival gangs:
the Sharks and Jets.
There’s a bitter enmity between them –
they despise each other’s culture,
customs,
colour.
And, in the end, the feud between these two groups
destroys the chance at love and a new life for the young man and young woman –
Tony and Maria.
The hopefulness that Tony had at the beginning of the story that
something’s coming that’s gonna be great –
which is realised when he meets Maria –
is shown to the viewer at the end of the musical, to be hopeless:
how hard it is to break from habits,
to break from fear of the other,
to break the reaction to that fear –
the cycle of violence.
Tony’s body lies crumpled in the street,
surrounded by members of both gangs, and their followers.
And then, and then... something does come,
something ...good –
out of the devastation,
in that moment,
when all see the cost of their hatred,
they finally see each other...
just fellow humans after all.
Wordlessly, they put an end to war:
members of both gangs come forward,
and, lifting Tony’s body, carry him off together.
From his death,
perhaps there will be an end to the fear,
perhaps there will be an end to the fighting,
perhaps there will be a chance for all of them to hope
and to be free at last to live.

Two groups.
Two rival groups.
Different customs,
different cultures,
yet, fellow humans with a shared history.
Jews
and Samaritans...
and in the centre of that story,
a man and a woman who, in a conversation
that begins with difference,
ends with each truly seeing the other.

In our gospel reading from John,
Jesus is on the move.
He’s been in Judea
and been gaining more and more followers keen to hear his teaching,
full of hope –
could be... who knows?
could it be...yes, it could.
Maybe this Jesus might just be the Messiah.
And, with the growing number of followers,
lurking in the background are the Pharisees,
who are not best pleased that this young maverick Rabbi from the sticks
is becoming well-known, popular.
They want him stopped.
Very badly.
Feeling it’s time to move on, Jesus heads off –
journeying from Judea and to the Galilee.
He takes a short cut.
Rather than avoiding enemy territory, he crosses the boundary.
After walking for about 30 miles, Jesus ends up at Sychar, in Samaria,
the place of Jacob’s Well.
Exhausted, he rests...alone –
the disciples have gone to the town looking for food.

It is a quiet place – which is only natural, given it is the hottest part of the day.
No regular person would be doing hard work at this time,
they’d be somewhere in the shade.
But...
she is no regular person.
In the heat of the noon day sun,
the woman heads towards the well to fetch water and lug it back home.
It’s almost as if she wants to avoid being seen;
to avoid any confrontation,
to avoid any kind of interaction with others.
But that doesn’t happen:
because there Jesus sits,
and, he initiates a conversation.
Clearly, he’s no regular person either.

Unlike her, he has nothing to draw water with:
he asks her for a drink.
And it’s she who is quick to flag up difference.
First it’s race:
Jew.
Samaritan.
And then, gender:
Samaritan woman.
And then custom and practice:
how can he ask her for a drink when
Jews don’t share eating or drinking vessels with non-Jews –
especially 'heretic' Samaritans?
This is not going to happen.
But then, Jesus flips things around –
he tends to do that a lot.
Having asked her for a drink,
he points out that it is he who can offer her water –
living water.
Water that will so satisfy her thirst she will never need drink again...
water that is enough for body and soul,
both now
and forever.
And, if she’d have been a Scot, and not a Samaritan, she’d have answered:
‘Aye. Right.’
But this man intrigues her.
They stand at the well as equals:
she has no compunction about asking him questions,
or giving a quick-witted response to his comments.
They get into some quite deep theology.
The woman –
who unlike Jesus is never named –
is seen, whereas, in her everyday life and everyday encounters,
she is invisible.
And more than seen:
she is known.
There’s that interesting little conversation about husbands.
How many?
Well, this stranger seems to know the score.
And as they talk,
and as she feels seen...
she begins to see who he is:
could be... who knows?
could it be...yes, it could.
At the least, he’s a prophet,
at the most, well, that could be quite potentially mind-blowing.
Wait.
‘At some point, the Messiah will come. When he comes, 
he will explain everything to us.’ she says.
...’I am he.’
Oh.
And as the disciples return,
that woman is so excited,
that she completely forgets to pick up the great water jar she came with,
and races back to the town.
And with a lovely echo of Jesus calling the first disciples,
she encourages the townsfolk that she’s previously avoided to:
‘come and see!’
They see her...
and it’s enough to make them rush out to the well and see Jesus:
could it be...yes, it could.
This might very well be the Messiah.
They invite him to stay...
and what they see, they like:
many believe.
They know who he is:
‘we know that this man really is the Saviour of the world.’
Boom.
The stranger is a stranger no longer:
as he knows them,
so they now know who he is.
Rivalries are forgotten,
fear of the other is set aside.
Something comes from this encounter,
something happens,
something good...
new life –
like water flowing through the soul, refreshing and cleansing.
Even as Jesus has crossed boundaries,
so the boundaries have melted away into a new understanding.
God loved the world...
in such a way, that he sent Jesus –
as our reading from last week reminded us.
Our reading today puts flesh and bones on that:
this encounter is what it looks like when God comes to town.
Transformation.
Barriers coming tumbling down:
barriers of prejudice, of fear.
To see and to be seen –
to be fully known
In him, a chance for all to have hope and to be free at last to live.

It is still the gift that God, in Jesus, offers us:
hope...
life, in all its amazing fullness and beauty and wonder;
life reconciled to God –
the fount of every blessing.

We are currently living in strange and fearful times.
Every day, we see the power of fear in action:
fear of not having enough:
panic buying and empty shelves;
fear of losing one’s job:
people feeling that they’re having to make a choice
that they shouldn’t have to make -
to isolate oneself when ill, and not get paid, maybe sacked...
or to go into work but compromise everyone they come into contact with?
And, of course, the fear of actually getting this virus:
especially those who fall into the vulnerable categories –
older age groups or people with underlying health issues.
How do we all navigate living through this ocean of fear as people of faith?

First, remind ourselves that the God who sees,
sees us,
knows...us,
continues to offer us the freedom from fear
to live in hope,
to live life fully.
He is sufficient,
a present help in time of trouble;
the fount of every blessing.
We pray.
We’re called to be wise and sensible – so follow the advice that’s being put out.
And we’re called to love.
So, how do we love in the time of coronavirus?
See and know:
who the most vulnerable are around you –
and, to help them live a little more fully, offer them love in practical ways.
Check in with each other –
if you can’t be physically present, lift up that phone and see how your neighbour is doing;
think of the ones who are self-isolating:
ring them just for a wee blether –
they don’t have to be isolated just because they’re stuck at home;
or, maybe, if you’ve internet, some scrabble online...
little things... cards through the letter box, wee mindings.
If you are able to be out and about –
are there folk you know who can’t pick up prescriptions, or basics like milk...
might doing some delivery be useful?
Ask yourself, if shopping:
do you really need to buy 72 rolls of loo paper?
Or, by choosing not to panic buy,
might that mean that those on low incomes who can’t afford to stockpile,
might have a chance at getting some basic groceries?
When others are worrying, try to be a calm, non-anxious, kindly and reassuring presence.
Above all:
be kind
be careful
be not afraid...
be a fount of God’s blessing –
offering the river of the water of life.
And together, we will get through this if we remain rooted not in fear, but in love,
for we follow the man that a group of Samaritans saw 2 000 years ago,
and who, in seeing him, said:
‘this man really is the Saviour of the world.’
So, let Jesus be our guide,
and let us learn the creative ways of love, and hope, in the time of coronavirus...
Amen.

COVID-19 update

Coronavirus and hygiene update from Upper Clyde Church

First... remember to:

• Be kind
• Be careful
• Be not afraid

Current government advice is not to 

restrict or cancel religious gatherings.

Public gatherings, particularly those involving worship, are a fundamental part of every-day life for people of faith communities and can help maintain morale.

To put people at ease and to reduce the possibility of infection, we will be following these guidelines over the next wee while:

• Greeting: those on door duty will be delighted to make you welcome and instead of offering a hand to shake, we're open to creative forms of greeting:
  always with a smile, of course...
  but perhaps accompanied by an elbow nudge, or a polite nod of the head, maybe the peace sign, a wee shin to shin tap, or, if you like sci-fi we're open to Star Trek fans sharing a 'live long and prosper'😀
• Our offering will not be taken using the communal plates but will instead be placed in the baskets which will be near the entrance before and after the service.
• Seating in worship: we've plenty of pews, so, as we gather together spread out some more over the pews and leave space between one another 
• Communion: Our next service of Communion is scheduled for June... Session will be keeping an eye on all updates and will make a decision about how we might work out the logistics so all avoid any potential contamination.
• Wash your hands: we've provided soap in our bathrooms... before you head off feel free to make use of it
• Morning tea will still happen - and there's plenty of room to make space for each other - be together but keep a little distance. 
• Morning tea cont'd: instead of unpackaged biscuits on plates, all biscuits will be the kind that are individually packaged
• Pastoral care: the minister and our pastoral visitors [Heather Watt and Dee Yates] will be monitoring this closely. Face to face visits may need to be curtailed. If so, then a chat by phone is always an option. We'll work on this on an individual by individual basis. Every day we are learning and adapting. But we will find creative ways to work around this situation and keep you safe as well.
  We are concerned that those who feel the need to self-isolate may feel anxious or lonely, so please make an extra effort to keep in touch with anyone you know who may be alone or vulnerable. Equally, if you have any particular practical concerns please get in touch with the minister or our pastoral visitors, who will try to arrange suitable help.
• Sermon: if you are anxious about coming to church or are self-isolating, the sermons will be up on this site. If you know of anyone who isn't using internet who might like a printed copy of the sermon, please let the minister know and we can arrange it.

There is no reason for us to worry or be fearful, but instead we should be using best hygiene practices. Unless you are unwell there is no reason to stop coming to Church, but equally if you are uncomfortable doing that for the next few weeks you should not feel bad about your absence.

General Advice - preventative measures:

• Cover your mouth and nose when coughing or sneezing with a tissue or your sleeve (not your hands). 
• Wash your hands with soap and water often. 
• Try to avoid close contact with people who are unwell. 
• Clean and disinfect frequently touched objects and surfaces 
• Do not touch your eyes, nose or mouth if your hands are not clean.

Sermon, Sun 8 March, Lent 2: 'Where does my help come from?'

READINGS Ps 121; Rom 4:1-5; John 3:1-17

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 lift my eyes to the hills –
where does my help come from?’

A friend and I have an ongoing joke about Psalm 121.
We speculate that it was written by the psalmist just as he was preparing to go into battle.
Watching and waiting, hearing the clink and jingle of the oncoming army, he scans the hills anxiously...
Sweat begins to run down his brow as the hills remain ....quiet,.... empty...
As he looks at these empty hills, he’s getting a little twitchy,
and the ‘where does my help come from?’
is really more of a panicked –
‘Aaaaargh, where the heck is the rest of my army?
Where are my reinforcements?!’
And after a lot of very quick breaths, where he's close to hyperventilating,
he tries to steady himself with an:
‘okay, okay, 
breathe, 
breathe...
my help comes from the Lord...
my help comes from the Lord...
....LOOOOORRRRRRDDDDDDD!!!’....

Whatever caused the psalmist to compose his song, Psalm 121 became less a battle song,
and more a song for pilgrims.
At the beginning of the psalm you see the words:
‘a song of ascents’ 
a reference to ascending the road leading up to Jerusalem and the Temple.
The psalm became popular –
used as a form of prayer and blessing at the beginning of a journey.
Having been blessed,
off the travellers,
the pilgrims,
those journeying to wherever it may be,
would go –
some having a remarkably benign trip,
others having all sorts of unexpected and unlooked for adventures,
occasional mishaps,
or getting a little lost on the way.
To journey is to be prepared to take a risk...
And the word ‘journey’ is often used to describe not only physical travels,
but also the journey of faith.
We find this especially in times like Lent –
where there’s talk of wandering in the wilderness with Jesus,
talk of journeying with Jesus to Jerusalem
and of passing through the cheering crowds
and onwards to betrayal and pain and suffering and death on Calvary’s hill.

Sometimes, the word ‘journey’ feels a little overused, when it comes to faith,
and yet, even so, it’s a good metaphor:
just as in life’s journey,
so our faith journey can, at times, be remarkably straightforward, gently benign...
but as with other journeys,
there can also be bumps and diversions and even occasional disasters on the faith journey.
With the psalmist, we too, might be inclined to ask:
‘where does my help come from?’
And we find, it’s the same answer:
‘our help comes from the Lord.’
But how is that a comfort?
Well, the psalmist tells us about this One who is helping.
What do we learn?
The Lord is the One who is
‘the Maker of heaven and earth’.
We get to ask our question only because the Maker...
made us...
and everything there is:
the hills, atoms, snow, even those weird and wild looking fish
with built-in lamps that swim in the darkest parts of the ocean.
Our help comes from the One who is
the Maker,
the Creator –
inventive, imaginative,
who does, like the Sunday School song suggests,
hold 'the whole word in his hands.'
‘Where does my help come from?’
Wow – the all-impressive and powerful Creator of everything.
Well, that’s not too shabby, really, is it?
The One who shaped the seas and formed the mountains
is the One who will help little old you and me.
But is that it?

Well, according to the psalmist, wait, because there’s more –
and then we get a run down of the qualities of this particular helper.
Six times, in this short psalm, there’s a particular Hebrew word ‘shamar’ –
and in our English translation we have these variations on it –
'to keep', 'to watch over', 'to preserve'.
I was chatting with someone yesterday about publicity and advertising:
did you know that it’s only about at the 6th flyer through the door
advertising the same thing, that you tend to actually notice it?
Interesting coincidence that ‘shamar’ – to ‘watch over’ is mentioned six times.
It’s as if the psalmist really, really, really wants you to notice this:
it’s important.
So, the take-away here is that the great Maker of all
helps you,
and holds you,
and, watches over you.
When the wheels fall off the wagon
and the journey goes all pear-shaped,
this is the One who has your back.
But, what else do we find out from the psalmist?

God... never... sleeps.
This is a sly reference to the other gods who were worshipped
at the time of writing the psalm –
it was believed that they sort of hibernated over the winter, waking back up as spring began.
Our helper, says the psalmist,
doesn’t go to sleep,
doesn’t go on holiday:
our helper,
our God,
is constant, dependable,
sure and faithful and steadfast –
always with us,
always watching over us.

This is a helper who protects.
When the sun is at its height, this is a helper who provides shade.
When the moon is making its nightly pilgrimage through the skies, again the helper keeps watch.
And here’s a thing:
what’s the problem with the moon?
Here’s your fun quiz fact for the day to tuck away:
the root of the word ‘lunatic’ comes from the Latin word for ‘moon’.
And, the root of the word ‘epileptic’ comes from Greek word used for ‘moon’...
so the expression to be ‘moonstruck’ meant having a fit.
Both the sun and moon in their different ways were things to be wary of for a traveller,
and the One watching over us, according to the psalmist,
makes sure that we are protected from sun and moon;
protected
for the whole journey of life,
for the whole journey of faith;
from our beginning
to our end...
our coming into the world
and our going out from it.
Ever faithful,
always watching,
always with us.
The One who is our helper.

It is the same One who called to Abraham and said:
‘Leave this place. Go to a land of promise, of hope. 
You will have so many descendants that it will be 
as impossible to count them as it is to count the stars.’
And wealthy, comfortable Abraham left his comfort zone
and went on a great journey with Sara...
and a whole lot of assorted servants and possessions.
He travelled to a far off, unknown land –
the journey of a lifetime,
a journey not without difficulties.
There were times he really made a hash of things.
Nevertheless, he followed God –
the One who is our helper and our guide.

Thousands of years later, the One who also watched over Nicodemus
guided his footsteps at night through the twisty, narrow alleyways of
Jerusalem to where Jesus was staying.
Nicodemus was also a man of privilege and power – he was among the religious elite.
And yet, he too, made a journey:
and found himself face to face with Jesus chewing over matters of the faith.
I like Nicodemus – there’s a humility to this man that enabled him to ask questions
of this maverick peasant from the northern wilds.
He has an interesting faith journey:
later we see him standing up and defending Jesus...
and much later, Nicodemus is there, at the Cross, with Joseph of Arimathea,
organising the logistics of burial.

Remember the hymn that has the words:
‘we are pilgrims on a journey’?
So we come back to the pilgrim psalm, psalm 121.
It is as much a psalm for pilgrims heading to Jerusalem centuries ago,
as it is for each one of us who follows in faith today.
And we, too, find that there are times when we ask the age-old question:
‘where does my help come from?’
It’s a good question in the midst of conversations about the Coronavirus,
and where we’re hearing all these stories of panic buying.
I’m not quite sure what the panic is about loo paper, but that seems to be
‘the’ panic buying item of choice...
I’d prefer chocolate, personally.

Earlier in the week I bumped into someone and we got into a conversation about this virus.
And the person I was talking with was very concerned – terrified.
They were not alone, judging by all that panic buying.
But something perhaps useful to remember:
throughout the whole of human history there have always been terrible and frightening things:
plague, natural disasters, wars...
The world can truly feel a frightening place.
We can feel lost, alone, isolated.
In life, in faith, as we journey, we look at everything happening around us,
we look at the hills filled with so many frightening, worrying things, and we cry out:
‘where does my help come from?’
The preacher Frederick Buechner once said:
‘Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid.’
Why not?
Because when we ask ‘where does my help come from?’
the answer is the same as it was for Abraham.
It is the same as it was for the pilgrims journeying to Jerusalem,
it is the same as it was for Nicodemus slipping through those
darkened streets seeking illumination.
Our help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth,
who watches over us every moment of our lives -
the One who is constant even when at times, we are less so:
the One who is dependable, who can be relied upon, and who loves us in this manner:
that he became one of us,
and, in becoming one of us,
knew fully what it was to bear the burden and the joy of being human.
He is the One who loves us in this way:
that he challenged those who created systems that helped to make the world
more terrible and frightening, systems that hindered people from being all that they could be.
He is the One who loved us like this:
that, having challenged the powers that be, he was arrested, punished, and executed.
He is the One who loves us in this way:
that, he showed us that death is not the end –
that we are a people not of darkness,
but of light;
that we are a people not of despair,
but of hope;
that we are a people not of death,
but of life everlasting...
Our help comes
from the One who loves us,
who cherishes us,
and who is the guardian of our hope.
He is the One to whom we can cry out when all seems lost –
and find that, as we journey to him, and he to us,
that, in the end, all is found –
for God is our all in all.
Whatever it is that causes you to be fearful as you journey in faith and in life,
take courage, people of God,
for the Lord, your God, is with you –
always and forever.

‘I lift my eyes to the hills –
where does my help come from?
My help comes the Lord, 
the Maker of heaven and earth’
...Amazing grace indeed. Amen.

'All you ever needed to know about temptation' quiz

On Sunday, for a bit of fun, everyone was given the following quiz to take away below, focusing upon Jesus' temptation in the wilderness... See how you go!

THE ALL-SINGING, ALL-DANCING, 

ALL-YOU-EVER-NEEDED TO KNOW-ABOUT TEMPTATION QUIZ

1. Where did Jesus go for forty days?
  a. Holiday to Inverness
  b. Desert
  c. Lakeside
  d. Mountainside

2. How did Jesus feel after those forty days?
  a. Hungry
  b. Frightened
  c. Forgetful
  d. Suntanned

3. Who made the suggestions as to how Jesus should live his life?
  a. Donald Trump
  b. Lady Gaga
  c. The Queen
  d. The Devil

4. What did the devil suggest Jesus could do with the stones?
  a. Skim them on the water
  b. Build a house
  c. Turn them into bread
  d. Build a cairn as a memorial to his meeting with the Devil.

5. What did Jesus say in reply to the devil about turning the stones into bread?
  a. Have you got any butter and jam?
  b. People don’t live on bread alone, they also need the Word of God
  c. I would need a new set of teeth
  d. I’m on a low-carb diet, no thanks

6. What city did the Devil take Jesus to next?
  a. Bethlehem
  b. Nazareth
  c. Glasgow
  d. Jerusalem

7. Who did the devil say would catch Jesus if he jumped from the highest tower on the temple?
  a. Angels
  b. Stuart Hogg [Rugby is an ancient and venerable game!]
  c. Prince William
  d. Barbie

8. What did Jesus say to the devil about doing such a dangerous thing?
  a. That it was wrong to test God
  b. No chance!
  c. No way Jose!
  d. You do it first!

9. What was the third thing the devil offered to Jesus?
  a. Any fast car he fancied
  b. A luxury round the world cruise
  c. The whole world and all its riches
  d. A life-time supply of chocolate

10. What did Jesus say about the devil’s final offer?
  a. I’ll take two of everything
  b. Anything else?
  c. That the only thing we should want and worship is God
  d. Thanks, that’s really kind of you

Worship, Sun 1 March, Lent 1: 'One little word'

A busy morning -

a cross in the wilderness...

the beginning of the season of Lent, and so we once again followed the ancient practice of 'burying' alleluias;
we pondered the word 'if' as we reflected on temptation;
and together, we shared in the bread and wine of Communion.

READINGS Gen 2:15-25, 3:1-7; Matt 4:1-11

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.

Take thirty-two pre-schoolers:
thirty-two pre-schoolers who are very fond of marshmallows...
in fact, marshmallows might just be one of their
most
favourite
things
ever
in the whole world.
Taking each little one aside, you give them a challenge.
And the challenge is this:
to go into a small room down the hall.
The only things in that room are a chair to sit on,
a table,
and, on the table...
a plate...
a plate which has on it an enormous white – or pink –
beautifully fluffy marshmallow.
Now, they have a choice:
they can eat that lovely marshmallow immediately or
if they can sit in that room for a whole minute,
looking at that deliciously lovely,
ginormous,
gorgeous-looking,
sweet-smelling,
wonderfully fluffy marshmallow
without eating it,
the deal is this:
that, at the end of the minute, they will be given not one, but two,
of these wonderful marshmallows to take away as a reward for waiting.
Each child agrees to the challenge –
because...
well, a minute’s not that long, and ...
either way, they’ll have a marshmallow, and...
even better, the possibility of having two yummy marshmallows.

Actually, this was an experiment that did really happen back in the 1970’s
and it was called the Stanford Marshmallow Experiment.
It was a test to try and find out how early the concept of delayed
gratification was understood by human beings.
Now the original test was a wee bit more complex than what I just described...
But the basis of the test was later used in the 2000’s in its more simple form –
and each child was filmed as they waited for the minute.
The one minute films were collated into one film, and the whole thing was then
put up on the internet – YouTube.
The film went viral:
because the children’s responses to the challenge were just fabulous.
There were some very heartfelt, longing looks at the big fluffy marshmallow on the plate;
some of the children picked up the marshmallow and took in deep breaths,
inhaling the sugary smell.
Others tested the fluffiness of the marshmallow,
gently, and occasionally not quite so gently, by squeezing it.
Several little faces leant into hands, as elbows rested on the table,
and eyes stared intently at that marshmallow.
There were some giggles;
there were some mighty big sighs;
some agonised expressions;
a few cases of eyes looking up to the heavens;
and some clearly deep ethical thought processes going on:
was licking the marshmallow okay –
after all, it wasn’t really eating it, was it?
Several small people were seen to quietly look around at the door,
before little fingers pounced, with the marshmallow being nearly licked to death.
Of course, after a time, a good number of the children just went ‘aaargh!’
and stuffed the whole thing in their mouths and sighed with the loveliness of it.
A very small number of the children did actually manage NOT to eat the marshmallow...
and were rather chuffed to be given two marshmallows, which didn’t last long at all.
If you go online, you can watch the whole thing:
just Google using the words
‘marshmallow’
‘temptation’
‘children’
you’ll find a link to a video called:
‘Oh, the temptation’ –
it’s fabulous, watch it and enjoy.

On this first Sunday of Lent, it’s really not that much of a surprise to find ourselves
faced with two Bible readings that are stories about temptation.
The first, involving forbidden fruit, not a marshmallow, is near the beginning of creation:
Adam and Eve hanging out in the Garden of Eden,
living a peaceful life,
a life in harmony with all of creation,
a life in harmony with the Creator...
and into that harmonious life comes a creeping insinuation that perhaps this isn’t enough –
is there more?
In our own 21st century, there’s a term that could be applied to what Adam and Eve
are experiencing as they stand by that tree and listen to the serpent spin his lies –
the serpent is cunning,
and the serpent knows that if he can make them feel even the slightest bit
inadequate,
incomplete,
insufficient,
then both Adam and Eve will be struck with that most awful of afflictions –
no, not the Corona virus...
but:
and here’s that 21st century term -
FOMO –
which stands for Fear Of Missing Out.

The serpent makes them think about one little word:
‘if’
‘what if the serpent’s right?
what if God isn’t telling us the truth?
what if I don’t have everything I possibly can?
and then...
what if I just ignore God, better still, what if I put myself in God’s place?’
And with that little tiny word,
trust is lost,
doubt takes over,
and Eve and Adam find themselves unable to resist taking a bit of that
great big piece of forbidden fruit,
and find themselves losing their peace,
the harmony with creation,
the harmony they had with the Creator.
The relationship ...is broken...
And we find, as we read the stories in the bible that what we’re looking at
is a long-ranging story of that relationship between God and human beings being
played out down through the centuries:
God rescuing his people time and time again...
God always there,
always loving them,
always calling them back.
And God’s people –
always running:
to God,
or running from God.
But, it’s often in the wilderness places that the people find that God is with them.
That’s the interesting thing about the wilderness, there’s not that many distractions:
the wilderness is relatively uncluttered, there’s space...
and in the space,
without distractions,
the people of God encounter again the One
who loves them,
who created them.

And so, the tradition arose among the people that it was a good thing
to go out into the desert places,
to seek God,
to discover what God was saying,
to find clarity,
to... declutter
and get rid of those things in one’s life that were distracting.
And it’s why, in our second reading, that we meet Jesus in the desert, the wilderness:
in the uncluttered, empty spaces,
in a place of vast open horizons,
he is seeking clarity,
vision,
to hear God
as he prepares to begin his ministry.
And in this story, which comes at the end of his time in the desert wilderness,
we are met once again with temptation...
and that one small word – ‘if’...
Once again the creeping, sneaking little insinuation of:
inadequacy,
incompleteness,
insufficiency...
Here, however, it strikes, right at the core of who Jesus is –
‘if you are the Son of God...’
do this,
do that –
put on a show – turn stones to bread;
test and see – let angels stop your fall;
bow your knee – all this could be yours.
All aimed to plant seeds of doubt, mistrust.
And it’s a real test:
Jesus, while Son of God, is still also fully human –
these temptations wouldn’t be temptations if there wasn’t the risk of him falling to them –
we’re not talking about someone in some sort of heavenly super-hero cape here.
Human.
Just like us.
And yet, his mission is to be
the great bridge-builder,
the One restoring that broken relationship between people and God,
the great reconciler –
who, having spent 40 days and 40 nights out in the desert,
has been preparing,
has found clarity,
and can see right through the tissue of lies that come with that one little word ‘if’.
He knows, through his time in the wilderness just exactly who he is:
he is indeed the Son of God,
he doesn’t need to put on a show
to be a crowd-pleaser,
he doesn’t need to test God
to make sure that God is with him,
he doesn’t need to bow the knee
to be given that which is already his, and not the tempter’s to offer....
He simply needs to get on about his Father’s business,
and after several pithy replies to the tempter,
he does so.

Here we are, in the desert, the wilderness of Lent,
perhaps the wilderness of life in general.
What are we tempted by?
What ‘if’s’ are we faced with that try to make us feel:
inadequate,
incomplete,
insufficient...
so much so that we turn our focus from God, and instead focus on
what we fear,
what we lack,
what we have no control over?
What are the ‘if’s’ that lurk under the surface that are there,
waiting to plant seeds of doubt and mistrust
to keep us estranged from God –
the One who loves us,
who calls to us,
who claims us as his own unconditionally?

When you hear that niggling, little voice trying to insinuate itself into your life,
when you hear that one little word ‘if’ trying to undermine
who you are and whose you are,
remember:
the God who loves you is more than adequate –
more than able to supply your needs...
the God who loves you
is the One in whom you find yourself complete –
made whole, restored...
the God who loves you is sufficient –
is enough,
is more than enough,
for in Him there is life in abundance...
and nourishment for body and for soul –
found in bread and in wine, shared together.

As you walk this wilderness journey that is Lent,
use the space to declutter the obstacles that stand in your way to God;
use the time to carve out wide open spaces of clarity –
where you hear that still small voice
that doesn’t say ‘if’
but instead, says ‘beloved’.
And, when you emerge from the desert,
in the glow and promise of resurrection glory,
be the voice that lifts others up –
the lonely, the anxious, the vulnerable...
feed the hungry,
welcome the stranger,
shelter the homeless,
stand with the oppressed.
Be the voice that reconciles –
builds bridges,
brings harmony,
and names these others not ‘least’ but ‘beloved’ 
in word and in deed...
For we, like Jesus, are called:
as we have been loved,
so too, let us be love in the world,
for that, my friends,
is, quite simply, the gospel.

Let’s pray:
God of revelation, 
unveil your Kingdom in our midst. 
Show us who we truly are in you: 
expose the illusions that distort our vision, 
deliver us from temptations 
that contort our living, 
open our eyes in this time of trial – 
that resistance may be the secret of our joy 
and our joy a sign of your shalom. Amen. *
                                                                              *prayer from Christian Aid