Sunday 16th August 'A tale of two fathers'

This week, in our time of worship, we continued working through Luke's gospel. Our overall theme focused upon greatness - what makes it, and where we find it. The readings today were:
Psalm 104: 1-5, 24-28, 31-34;  Luke 9:37-50

Why a tale of two fathers?
Immediately preceding our passage from Luke is the story of the transfiguration - our reading begins with Jesus, John, and James and John having just come back down from the mountain. It's a high point - both literally, and spiritually - and a space in which God, as Father, affirms his son, Jesus 'this is my Son, listen to him.'
And having experienced this, Jesus and the three disciples come back down from this mountain-top moment and come face to face with another father, another son: the son, demonstrably unwell...the father, distraught. 

As part of our reflection upon this section of Luke's gospel, we imagined the story of the father and the son being recounted by the father after both had returned home... 

I remember the night he was born.
Remember the cries of my wife, giving birth;
remember later
the smaller, high-pitched cry of my son.
It had been a difficult birth and, in the end,
proved almost too much for my wife’s body.
She survived, but there were no more children:
he was our first, and our last.
And how we loved him— he gave us such joy.
We mirrored each other:
fretted when he fretted,
laughed when he laughed,
and grew to know each other well.
Until we didn’t.
Something had changed.
He was no longer himself -
no longer the happy care-free boy we’d come to know.
Instead, he was a stranger, howling into the void, his body not his own.
We’d watch in horror as he’d fling his wee body to the ground,
terrified that he would hurt himself.
We felt… helpless,
seeing his limbs twitching,
his mouth frothing: onlookers to someone not in possession of themselves.
Where where was our wee boy in the midst of all of this? 
We learnt to sit with him,
my wife crooning a lullaby to soothe him,
to bring him back to us.

We also discovered who our true friends were—
fewer than we’d thought,
but those few stayed by us,
didn’t shun us like the others in the village.
Even so, as time went by,
it just felt better to stay at home,
shut ourselves away;
the stares and whispers were just…
too much.
But it was through our friends
that we heard of the Rabbi.
He had been travelling around,
doing amazing things,
transforming people’s lives
and he was headed our way.
I knew there and then that I’d take our son to see him.
It was worth the looks,
the pointing fingers,
the name-calling.

At first, I asked the Rabbi’s disciples:
they seemed unable to help,
but they took us to Jesus.
Even as we approached,
my son lost control,
threw his body to the ground,
and then the awful convulsions overtook him.
At a word from Jesus, however, it …stopped.
Whatever had overtaken my son was gone.
I looked into his eyes.
“Daddy?”
And then I held him close and cried.
Jesus had brought him back,
and, in the doing,
had given not only my son his life back,
but all of our futures combined.

We sat together in the dust awhile, recovering,
watching a spat between the Rabbi’s disciples.
Sounded like his followers
were trying to find their own place
in the pecking order.
Jesus turned back to us,
smiled, picked up my wee son
and placed him in the middle of their circle.
“See this little one?
Welcome those like him—
the smallest,
the ones thought of as unimportant,
the least.
And know this, in God’s pecking order,
the ones who are considered the greatest
are the ones like these.”

Well, that was different.
Never heard teaching the likes of that before.

Then Jesus and his disciples went on their way, as did we.
As my son and I approached the house, my wife saw us –
knew something had changed,
and ran and scooped our son up –
we clung together, with joyful tears,
our son, squashed between us…
precious, loved.

Our boy …is back.
Thank God.*
--------------------------

A blessing as you move into the week:

May we welcome the opportunity to live called to holiness,
loving our brothers and sisters,
working with our hands to help our neighbours,
for this is where we find true greatness.

May we go from this place
astounded at the greatness of God,
amazed at all Jesus has done and is doing,
and recognise the work of the Spirit given to us in our daily lives.

And, as we go:
may the blessing of God,
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit be with us all, evermore.
Amen

----------------------------------

Just to note that there were no specific church notices this week... very unusual!!

*the father's reflection, written by Nikki, can also be found in the resource Spill the Beans