Sermon, Sunday 7 Feb: Transfiguration Sunday

A sermon for Transfiguration Sunday...

Readings: Exodus 34:29-35; 2 Cor 3:12-4:2; Luke 9:28-43

SERMON ‘Glimpses of glory’
Let us pray:
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts,
be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

Smoke...
and cloud
and bright, dazzling light.
The glory of God revealed:
shimmering upon the mountain top -
mysterious majesty.
Awe - full...full of awe - in what is the original intent of that word.

To see God, face to face, leaves its mark upon Moses:
when he comes down from the mountain
his face glows with the fire and fabulousness
that is God,
and the people wonder, and are afraid,
and yet, are compelled to listen to him as he shares with them
the conversations that he’s had with God.

To see the glory of Jesus revealed leaves its mark upon Peter, James, and John:
dazzled by the divine identity that is their rabbi, Jesus,
seeing his true glory revealed, and told to ‘listen to him’,
when they come back down from the mountain...they’re reduced to stunned silence.
And even while on the mountain, Peter is reduced, in his shock, to babbling nonsense.
Amazed with what he’s seeing - though not quite comprehending -
he wants to hang on to this experience, this ‘wow’ moment;
to set up tents and stay there:
to hold the moment forever...which is not possible.
And once this fleeting glimpse of glory has gone,
Jesus gathers them up and takes them back down into the valley,
back down into the hustle and bustle
and noise and need
of a different reality.
When they come down from the mountain they’re met by a large crowd,
and the pleas of a father for the healing of his son -
who is presumably living with epilepsy by the description given.

Our mountain top passages are strange:
sometimes, there’s a temptation to skip over them entirely,
to find passages that feel...a little safer, a little more...normal.
How  are we to make sense of them?
...Do we need to make sense of them?
Can we just accept that there is mystery here,
and that, this side of heaven, we can’t ever fully comprehend?
So, I could just finish the sermon here,
and we could get our cup of tea a little earlier than planned!
But given I’ve been away for a few weeks, perhaps that’s cheating.

‘Transfiguration’ - the name given to what happens to Jesus on the mountain top;
the name given to our gospel passage;
the name given to the Sunday before we begin the season of Lent in our church year -
well, if you’re Protestant, at least.
‘Transfiguration’ - What is meant by the word?
The Oxford English Dictionary defines it as, to:
‘Transform into something more beautiful or elevated’;
while the Mirriam Webster Dictionary states that it’s
a :  a change in form or appearance :  a metamorphosis
b :  an exalting, glorifying, or spiritual change
And both make reference to the Christian feast that marks this account of
Jesus on the mountain top with his inner disciples -
Peter, James, and John.

Often, when the account of the Transfiguration is preached,
it’s preached as a corrective to folk who, to use that old saying:
‘are so heavenly-minded, that they’re of no earthly use.’
It’s preached in a way that says,
‘okay, you’ve had your five seconds of ‘wow’, now, best crack on
with bending your shoulder to the wheel of Christian duty.’
It’s preached as if there’s an either/ or:
sometimes discounting the mountain top entirely.
And it’s important that we do take on board that we can’t just pitch our tents
on the mountain top of glory and stay there...
it’s important that we do take on board that, as followers of Jesus,
yes, we do have work to do...
But...
This is not a passage that’s meant to be used as a tool for beating ourselves up,
nor as a long, unending list of ‘shoulds’ and ‘oughts’,
nor as a tool to measure our spiritual worth by the things we get out and ‘do’ -
It’s not an exercise in holy productivity.

I think the passage is less ‘either/or’ and more ‘both/and’.
The passage is about balance -
about taking time to delight in and be amazed at the God of glory...
about seeing things in a different way because we’ve seen what could be.
It brings focus and meaning to the way we follow in faith
as we move from mountain top to daily life.
Sure, we get a spiritual recharge,
but we gain an understanding of who we are,
and of our calling and mission as the people of God.
In seeing God, face to face,
we see the world,
we see our reality,
and we see the reality of our neighbours
for what it is...
and it motivates our response to bring in God’s kindom.

Reflection on God’s glory evokes glory-inspired reaction... or, it should do.
We need both mountain top and valley, reflection and action;
we need -
to fall on our knees, and worship,
and to get up and stand with our dispossessed neighbour -
to live in the glory of the sacred
and in the good news of the kindom.
And in it all, God is our source, our centre - the ground of our being.
And from that centre, from being grounded in God’s glory, all else flows:
Our ‘doing’ isn’t about gaining gold stars or merit points so that we get to heaven...
our ‘doing’ comes from already ‘being’ -
in God.

On the mountain top - God’s glory was revealed.
Jesus’ divine identity was made known in stunning, eye-splintering light.
Transfigured.
Transformed.
And in the light of God’s self-revealing glory,
both Moses, and the disciples were made more fully aware of themselves -
of the content of their character -
to borrow a phrase from Martin Luther King, a man who had also
been up to the mountain, and seen a vision of God,
and a vision of what God’s kindom looked like.

In the light of God’s self-revealing glory -
in our own glimpses of glory on the mountain top,
what do we see revealed -
of God,
of God’s created world around us,
of ourselves?
Transfiguration?  Transformation?
Romans, chapter 12, reminds us that we're
not to be conformed to the world, but to be transformed -
and to be transformers, as we share the light of God’s glory all around us -
for the light of God’s glory is for all:

Preacher, Mary Luti, notes that:
The merciful pleasure God takes in Jesus, 
the joy of God’s goodness that glows 
like a million suns, 
is Peter’s origin and destiny too. 
It is the origin and destiny of the whole creation. 
It is our destiny.
We were all made in ecstasy 
and intended for ecstasy. 
Glory, and its lovely twin, Joy, 
is the permanent subtext of our lives. 
We were called and gathered for praise, thanksgiving, and freedom – 
for visions, for dreams, and for ...worship [Mary Luti]

Filled and inspired by the fire of God’s glory,
our call as followers of Jesus, as God’s people,
is to show, in word, deed, and in awed silence,
that God is at work saving the world.
It is to ‘testify... that grace is even now sparking in the stubble, 
glory is already lighting up the mountain, 
and all people, strangers, kin and enemies, 
are even now being plucked from death, 
included in the sweep of mercy, 
and brought home to sit at the table of peace.
Our calling is ... to see beyond ordinary sight. 
To see the world’s suffering unflinchingly, 
exactly as it is, and to see God already working...
and by our fearless announcement 
bring hope to everyone who swears 
all hope is lost.’ [Mary Luti]

Paraphrasing Martin Luther King, in his ‘Mountain’ speech:
Our calling is to point to ‘streets flowing with milk and honey’
as we witness God’s glory,
and because we have witnessed God’s glory, we are moved
‘to be concerned about the slums down here,
and his children who can’t eat three square meals a day.’

Our calling means we must open ourselves to fire.
To be transfigured, transformed,
as we remember God’s glory and generosity
in the face of a world which tells us that
God’s people are diminishing, failing,
and will soon be a rare, exotic, and possibly, extinct, species.
Our calling is to stand as God’s people and not be afraid -
for we have been to the mountain top, and we have seen God’s glory -
and we are not ashamed of the gospel - the good news.
Good news that transforms the
law of finger pointing, death-giving judgement,
which crushes all, into lives lived fully;
good news where we see glimpses of glory -
where we see what could be and where we work towards
the fulfilment of all things as a community of hope..
Good news that shouts out in joyous proclamation and in quiet whispers,
that God’s love is for all,
that God’s love transfigures and transforms
both the sinner and the sinned against,
mends the broken-hearted,
lifts up the oppressed:
Good news that is life-giving and life-changing -
for it is the news that cries out that
God’s grace abounds.

We can’t stay on the mountain.
But we can’t not go up to the mountain - for there, the glory of God is revealed;
for there, we see God face to face, and hail the power of Jesus’ name;
for there, we are reminded that we are God’s own -
...  God’s own for the world,
called to share in the bringing in
of God’s marvellous light of transformation.
Thanks be to God.

Let’s pray:
Loving God, whose love we live to serve,
so that all the world may see the wonder of it,
take hold of us again as we worship here,
and give us the mind of Christ,
so that we may rediscover your presence
in the community around us,
and recognise your Spirit at work
in every act of human kindness,
in every plea for justice,
in every call to service
and in every challenge to our complacency.
Take hold of us again,
fill us with love for each other
and our neighbours,
and by our faithfulness, let your justice,
joy and peace extend to more and more,
so that the thanks and praise we offer now
may increase, to your glory and our delight,
now and for evermore. Amen.

Pancakes, pancakes, everywhere...

Kicking off Lent with suitable pancake panache, at the manse on Tuesday the 9th of Feb.
Some rather scrummy fillings, and later, some good blethers by the fire.

Reflection Zone: Ash Wednesday

'If our lives were a long piece of fabric with our baptism on one end and our funeral on another, and we don’t know the distance between the two, then Ash Wednesday is a time when that fabric is pinched in the middle and the ends are held up so that our baptism in the past and our funeral in the future meet. The water and words from our baptism plus the earth and words from our funerals have come from the past and future to meet us in the present. And in that meeting we are reminded of the promises of God: That we are God’s, that there is no sin, no darkness, and yes, no grave that God will not come to find us in and love us back to life. That where two or more are gathered, Christ is with us. These promises outlast our earthly bodies and the limits of time.'

(Nadia Bolz Weber, in 'Accidental Saints: Finding God in All the Wrong People')

 Just a reminder: a short service,
including musical meditation and the marking of ashes,
will be held in the church at Abington this evening at 7pm.
All are welcome.  

Ash Wednesday 2016

Our Ash Wednesday service will be held in the church at Abington from 7pm, Wed. 10th Feb.
A quiet, reflective time in which to prepare for the season of Lent.

Come, begin the Lenten journey to Jerusalem...

It's Pancake Day...

Pancakes at the Manse... 

between 7 and 9pm, Tuesday 9th Feb.

Come on over, you know you want to :)

Contacts, information, church notices

The minister will be on leave from: Fri 22 Jan - Thurs 4 Feb. 

Pulpit and funeral cover: 

Sunday 24 Jan - we welcome back the Rev Sandy Strachan. Prior to retiring, Sandy worked for the NHS as a healthcare chaplain in Dumfries.

Sunday 31 Jan - and another welcome return: this time Uniting Church of Australia minister, the Rev Sarah Agnew.
Sarah is a Biblical Storyteller, Poet and Uniting Church Minister who is currently working on her PhD at New College. Sarah facilitates workshops, worship and classes that invite people to tell their own stories, discover the Biblical story, and communicate effectively, because she is passionate about sharing stories that celebrate the fullness of our humanity.

Funeral cover will be given by the Rev George Shand of the Tinto Parishes. Let's hope nobody needs to get in touch with George, however, he can be contacted on 01899 309400. For any ongoing parish queries, please contact our Session Clerk Moira White on 01659 74261

Funeral cover will be given by the Rev George Shand of the Tinto Parishes.  Let's hope nobody needs to get in touch with George, however, he can be contacted on 01899 309400.

For any ongoing parish queries, please contact our Session Clerk Moira White
on 01659 74261

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

News, events, and general notices:

The Lunch Club will be held on Wednesday 27th, from 12.30 pm, in the Church hall. Join us for soup, a sweet, tea/ coffee, and a catch up with friends. The cost is £5. If you’ve not booked, please let Jenny Worthington know by Tuesday afternoon, for catering purposes.

Parish magazine: Our next parish magazine is in process of being created. We’re hoping to have it distributed before Palm Sunday - the 20th of March. It will be Holy Week and Easter-related. If you’d like to submit material to be included: a poem, a story, suitable jokes... please let Dee Yates know, and if all items could be handed in by Sunday 14th of February.
The magazine team would love your input on what you’d like to see included in upcoming parish magazines. Thanks in advance!

Creative crafters’ group: do you enjoy handicrafts? Would you like to meet up with other like-minded folk with the purpose of putting your talents to use around the church? The minister would love to see you. There are already several interested folk - come and join us as we work towards creating seasonally appropriate materials for use in worship. The main project is aimed for Advent and Christmas. Once we’ve identified a time and day for meeting up, we’ll be gathering together in the church hall - and refreshments will be on hand. All welcome!

Church notices - volunteers: the minister is looking for volunteers who would read out the church notices before worship on Sunday mornings. Ideally, it would be great to have a team of 4-5 people, working on a rotational basis. Please let the Nikki know if you’d be willing to do this - and thanks for those who have already offered.

Lent is on its way! And there are several items for your diaries:
Pancake Party - Tuesday 9th of February, at 7pm: Nikki will be hosting a pancake evening at the manse, to which all are very welcome to come along.  A bit of fun before we move into the season of Lent. Why not bring along a favourite pancake topping?

Ash Wednesday Service - Wednesday 10th of February, at 7pm: there will be a short evening service to mark Ash Wednesday, the traditional beginning to Lent. The service will be a time for reflection and preparation, as we begin the journey with Jesus to Jerusalem...All are welcome.

Our Lent discussion groups will once again combine faith and film.
We'll be contemplating the themes brought out in the film 'Chocolat', making use of the study book:
'Christ and the Chocolaterie'.
We begin together in the Church Hall on Sunday 14th of February, at 3pm.
There may be a sighting of Johnny Depp, and popcorn - or chocolates - might be appropriate accompaniments for the afternoon... Regardless of whether you're thinking of joining a discussion group or not, why not come along for the afternoon for some fun. as we introduce the series in a gentle relaxing way.
Discussion Group details/
Sundays at 3pm in the Hopetoun Arms at Leadhills - an opportunity to sit by the fire for a 'chill and chat' as we explore the study book.
Subject to numbers, another group will be held in the manse, in Crawford during the week.
Please use the sign up sheet in the hall - and let Nikki know if you’d like to order the accompanying book, which will cost £5.99

Reflection Zone: wedding, wine, and song

miracles in unexpected places...!!

Given worship was cancelled on Sunday morning due to weather, some thoughts about the gospel reading for the day, in which we hear the story of the Wedding at Cana - John 2:1-11.

-----------

It's a big affair - anyone who's anyone is there.
Actually...not just the great and the good:
the whole community is there, along with extended family connections from elsewhere.
Well into the 7 day period of feasting, a potential embarrassment is discovered: they are running low on wine.
Actually...not just potential embarrassment that can be easily smoothed over and later forgotten about: for providing hospitality falls into the realm of sacred duty and social standing. This will be talked about for generations to come; will lower the family's social standing; will cause disgrace.

This is a society bound by honour and status, where a
good reputation isn't just a nice thing to have, a luxury...
reputation in this culture is a make or break. Not providing for one's guests
is about to break the reputation of this particular family: they will be disgraced.
And not in that Downton Abbey or Victorian melodrama kind of way.
This really will bring ruin upon them -
put them on the edge, the margins, no longer in the comfortable middle:
their name will be mud.
The old, well-known saying:
'sticks and stones may break my bones, 
but names will never hurt me'
is a saying that would never have been uttered by people in
the society and culture that Jesus lived in:
your name mattered.
To lose one's name had consequences that rippled
through the societal fabric; it could cut through the delicate threads
of connection like an axe. Jobs could be lost, neighbours could shun you.
It could threaten your survival in a way that we, who don't live in
an honour culture, really can't quite comprehend.

Faced with disgrace, the beleaguered host family is also faced with a major difficulty:
there's no handy supermarket nearby to send one of the servants off
to go and fill a trolley with wine and quietly bring it back, the guests none-the-wiser.
But then, the mother of one of the guests has a quiet word with her son.
Nudges him.
Initially reluctant, and saying something about
'my time not come. I'm not yet ready,'
perhaps he understands that he has to begin somewhere -
why not here?
This, the first of Jesus' miracles, is done within the setting of a domestic drama;
is played out behind the scenes:
of the household, only the servants know where this 'best' wine has come from.
Later, Jesus will go on to feed the multitudes, and restore the sick.
But here, in this quiet scene,
with an overwhelming amount of wine that will last well beyond
the seven days this wedding feast*, Jesus responds to a particular need,
restoring reputation in danger of being destroyed, certainly, but more:
demonstrating the nature of grace which is
life-giving, abundant, joyful, and free -
and a sign pointing to the heavenly banquet where there is more than enough for all.

*for those who like facts and figures: the amount of wine would be roughly
equivalent to 1 000 bottles... some party!

Morning worship cancelled

*****Morning worship cancelled Sun 17 Jan.*****

Hi folks. Could you please pass this on to any folk you know who might be thinking 

of venturing to church in the morning and thanks.

Consulting with some of the elders, I've made the decision to cancel church in the morning due to the weather. Apparently due for more of the white stuff through the evening and into tomorrow, so better to be safe! Whether a sleep-in, or off sledging, enjoy your day! :)

It's back! God goes to the Movies - 'Chocolat'

'I can resist everything, except temptation'...Oscar Wilde

'God goes to the movies' 

Lent is a season where folk traditionally either give something up, or take something on...
While some people give up chocolate for Lent: UCPC will be taking on 'Chocolat' -
using the film to pick out and discuss some common Lenten themes...

Sun 14 Feb, 3pm: Film viewing -
To tie in with our Lent discussion group/s, we'll be watching 'Chocolat' in the Church Hall.  While this will be helpful for all attending our Lent groups, anyone who'd just like to come along and watch the film is very welcome.  Bring your popcorn - or chocolate! - pull up a seat, and enjoy an afternoon with Juliette and Johnny...

Lent discussion groups - begin week commencing 14 Feb. for 5 weeks on:

Sunday afternoons, 3pm at the Hopetoun Arms, Leadhills.
[depending on numbers and timing, an additional group will be hosted in the manse at Crawford on an afternoon or evening tbc]

We'll be using the book 'Christ and the Chocolaterie' to aid our discussions.
Book costs £5.99.
To order the book, sign up on the sheet up on the hall noticeboard at church or contact Nikki via
the 'contact us' link on the right hand side-bar of this page - or order at a local bookseller near you or online...

New group - 'Creative Crafters'

Enjoy doing various handcrafts?
Like a creative challenge, a blether, and a cuppa?
Come and join our 'Creative Crafters' group, which will meet in the church hall. Dates and times to be confirmed.

The initial challenge is to gather together, and explore creating some seasonal banners to be hung in the church.
To start us off, the minister is particularly keen to see what ideas the
group might come up with and create for Advent and Christmas 2016.
If you’re interested, and know folk outwith the congregation who’d also be interested, please contact Nikki via the contact link on the right-hand column.
Having announced this on Sunday during worship, we've already got three keen folk, who are raring to go. Come and join us!

Sermon, Sunday 10 Jan: 'Called by name'

The weather came in, and so we dug ourselves into church, and dug ourselves back out. 13 hardy souls managed to get through the snow for worship this morning. For those who couldn't make it, sermon and a little something extra of what we were doing in church today.

1st READING: Ps 29
2nd READING: Isaiah 43:1-7
3rd  READING: Luke 3:15-17,21-22

SERMON ‘Called by name’
Let’s pray:
may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, 
O Lord our strength and redeemer. Amen...

That’s it: all gone.
Done and dusted for another year -
well, actually, less than a year:
because, as those of you who were gifted with
new calendars and diaries will know,
there’s only 349 days left until Christmas.
It’ll come ‘round quickly enough.
But, for the most part,
the tinsel and twinkly lights,
the baubles, and assorted other tree decorations
have been packed away:
the tree, back in it’s box -
or, in the process of being
recycled and chopped up for kindling.
The hope and expectation of Advent
has been realised.
The child has been born,
angels have visited shepherds,
shepherds have visited the stable;
wise men have followed a star to the manger,
given their presents,
and headed home by another way.
Time to move on and get those boxes
back in the loft.
[or wherever you store them!]

Time moves very swiftly in the church year -
no hanging about loitering in Bethlehem for us:
as we heard in our readings earlier,
within the passing of a week,
the babe in the manger
has become a grown man of 30,
standing on the banks of the River Jordan
watching his cousin John baptising the crowds
who have been drawn by his message of repentance.
Repentance: refocusing, reorienting and re-turning
to follow the One who, in love, made us and calls us for his own.

But perhaps it’s not quite time to put all the
boxes away - for in our gospel reading there’s a sense of Advent déjà vu.
A sense of expectation and wondering is in the air,
and it centres around the identity of John:
just who exactly is he?
Could it be...?
Could he be the Christ -
the Anointed One -
the Messiah?
His appearance, his dress, his words, and his actions
are very much prophetic:
he’s calling the people to turn back to God.
But John knows exactly who he is -
he’s the messenger for the Messiah,
and he is quick to dispel any speculation
about his own greatness.
‘One more powerful’ is coming, ‘one more worthy’ -
and we heard possibly John’s most well-known line:
about his not being worthy enough to even untie the Messiah’s sandals.
He is John, the straightener of paths,
preparing the way:
he is not the way.
And having answered them, I suspect the crowd then want to ask:
‘Well, if you’re not the Messiah, then who is?’

The question of the Messiah’s identity is answered by the writer
of the gospel in an odd manner;
for the One who is the way, the truth, the life - the Messiah -
does something rather unusual.
This One, who John claims is more powerful, and more worthy than he is
quietly heads off to queue alongside those who have
come to submit to a baptism of repentance -
an act of refocusing, reorienting, re-turning their faces to God.
The Son of God,
Prince of Peace,
Wonderful, counsellor, Messiah...
doesn’t stand on ceremony,
doesn’t jump the queue
doesn’t demand first place:
he takes his turn, and stands in line
amidst those who are searching,
amidst those who feel a lack -
the sense of something - someone - missing from their lives;
amidst those who feel broken, and bereft;
those who seek comfort;
those who seek meaning;
those who somehow understand that there is more to life than
waking, working, eating, sleeping.
He is amidst and alongside:
PCUSA pastor, Bob Brearley, notes that:
‘all we know about the baptism of Jesus is that it was with “all the people” 
... Jesus presented himself for baptism as an act of solidarity with a nation 
and a world of sinners. Jesus simply got on line with 
everyone who had been broken by the “wear and tear” of this 
selfish world and had all but given up on themselves and their God. 
When the line of downtrodden and sin-sick people formed in 
hopes of new beginnings through a return to God, 
Jesus joined them. 
At his baptism, he identified with the damaged and broken people 
who needed God.’
        [Robert Brearley in FOTW,YrC, Vol.1]

The incarnation, beyond the birth,
shows itself through Jesus’ identifying with people -
he is flesh of our flesh,
bone of our bone:
with us,
as one of us,
demonstrating his power by choosing not to oppress,
not to lord it over us.
‘Who is this?’ the crowd at the river may ask.
He’s the Messiah, but by seeking baptism,
by walking in humility alongside them,
he’s the Messiah - but not as they've understood
what a Messiah should be.
Is it then, a case of mistaken identity?

The theme of identity is writ large in this recounting of Jesus’ baptism.
Is John the Messiah?
No.
Is Jesus the Messiah?
Well, yes, but not quite what they were expecting.
But then, confirmation of his identity from a much higher source -
comes through the waters of baptism.
Jesus emerges from the water and,
in a small added detail that the account in Matthew doesn’t have,
he prays:
turns his focus upon God,
identifies with God -
recognising that he doesn't walk on the journey of faith in his own strength;
he doesn't make this journey alone:
God - Father and Spirit - are right there with him...
In this sense, perhaps, he views his baptism as a defining marker:
having lived a private life, his baptism serves as an act of commitment -
a signal that the moment had come to begin his ministry:
he consciously turns from his old life going about his carpentering in the workshop,
to his new life on the journey with God -
and on his journey towards Jerusalem,
that city which doesn’t honour its prophets.

God confirms this act of baptism with his blessing:
as Jesus prays that the heavens open,
the Spirit, like a dove, descends,
and a voice from heaven is heard, saying:
‘You...are my Son,
whom I love;
with you I am well pleased.’
It’s a great divine affirmation.
Having witnessed to his humanity through showing his relationship with people
through standing in solidarity with them
by standing in line and by being baptised with them -
we see Jesus reveal his divinity,
through showing his relationship with God through prayer.
His baptism is one of identity and belonging:
Son of Man
Son of God.

But baptism is essentially about identity and belonging.
As followers in faith here and now,
baptism is about who we are and whose we are.
Baptism is a sign of reconciliation and relationship:
a way of showing that our face is turned towards God, not away from God;
a way of showing that relationship with God is also about relationship with others:
the people of God.
We are baptised into Christ:
joined to God,
and joined to one another;
standing for God
and for each other.
Baptism is a sign of what God has done,
is doing, and will do in our lives - both now and for all time

We are baptised into life - not death;
baptised into freedom - not slavery;
baptised into community -
being baptised is not just about ‘me and my God’
We are all of us God’s children -
members of God’s family;
brothers and sisters in Christ.

Who are we?
I love the words in our reading from Isaiah today:
we are -
created and formed by God;
we are redeemed;
we are known - for God calls us by name;
we are God’s;
we are precious in God’s sight - and because of that,
not worthless, but worthy of honour;
we are loved.
We are God’s people and he is with us.
‘Our core identity lies not in our roles as individuals,
or in our relative size and wealth as [a congregation],
but in God’s identification of us as 
“precious in my sight, and honoured.” 
Our sense of belonging comes not from the acceptance of our peers 
or the status of our communities but from the One who 
claims us and will never let us go.’ 
           [W. Carter Lester in FOTW]

Baptism marks us as God’s people.
We turn our face towards God -
and there are days when we relax in God’s love,
and days when we resist God’s love;
days when we catch fleeting glimpses of
what God’s kingdom of heaven could be like on earth;
and days when it feels more like hell on earth.
We skip, and we stumble,
and we sometimes stop beside still waters to rest...
Baptism marks us as a people on a journey.

We wonder at the incarnation - of God walking for a time as one of us.
We ponder on the challenge that Jesus, the Messiah, calls us to -
which is to share, in word and in deed,
the good news that God is with us,
and to live life fully, abundantly.
In faith, we recognise the presence of the One
whose desire is to love us,
and who seeks to be loved in return.

Whether babe in the manger
or baptised man,
the good news of Jesus can’t be contained:
we may have packed away the physical signs and tokens of Christmas -
the tree may be gone, but the message remains:
as God is for us,
as God became one of us -
so we are for God,
so we become his hands, his feet,
seeing with his eyes of compassion
as we look around our world.

The great civil rights preacher, Howard Thurman, wrote:
"When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry,
To release the prisoner,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among people,
To make music in the heart."

We are called by name - and are God’s own.
As we live into our baptism,
as we live into our identity as God’s precious ones,
so we continue to bring the light and hope of the Messiah
into our hearts,
our homes,
our world.
And perhaps, at the deepest of levels, the reality of Christmas
is born in us each time we do.
Amen.

[immediately following the sermon, we took some time to remember and reflect 
on our baptism. Every had been given a stone as they came into worship. 
At the front of the church, the font had a large glass jar with water in it. 
The following is basically what we did...]

REMEMBERING OUR BAPTISM
There’s an old tradition in some communities of the baptised,
that happens either on New Year’s Eve,
or early in the new year - often on the Sunday focusing upon Jesus’ baptism.
It’s a time for remembering and reflecting upon our baptism:
hard to remember for those of us who may have been babes in arms -
but each time we have a baptism in church, in a way,
we’re reminded of the vows made on our behalf.
And so, today, on this second Sunday of the new year,
and the Sunday upon which we've been thinking about Jesus’ baptism,
let’s take a quiet moment now to think upon our own identity
as God’s beloved ones...
as someone who is precious in his sight -
      [silence space for reflection]
Sometimes, it’s hard to accept that affirmation
of God's love, but here and now, remember:
you are God’s son,
you are God’s daughter:
with you,
he is well pleased.

As you came in this morning, each of you were given a stone.
As you can see, placed on our baptismal font is a large container of water...
and by the side, a candle, symbolising the light that has come into
the world through Jesus.
Over the next wee while, having been thinking of your baptism,
and of who you are and whose you are,
I’d invite you to come forward and place the stone into the water
as a reminder of your baptism...
and as the stones are gathered together,
let them remind us also that in baptism we are bound together -
as Christ’s body, and as brothers and sisters...
[people brought their stones and placed them in the water...
followed by a time of quiet reflection.  Thereafter, we said the following
prayer together...]

I am no longer my own but yours.
Put me to what you will,
rank me with whom you will.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be employed for you or laid aside for you,
exalted for you or brought low for you.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things
to your pleasure and disposal.   Amen.

Epiphany, chocolate stars, and poetry

Today in worship we thought of journeys, as we observed
Epiphany, and mused on Magi, and star-following.
Last year, we gave out star words for reflecting on the journey. This year, chocolate stars were give to everyone for sustenance as we begin the journey of this new year!

Regardless of chocolate, it's the perfect time of year to dust of T. S. Eliot's great poem, 'The journey of the Magi', which
featured in the sermon:

'A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sorefooted, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
and running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you might say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
"The Journey of the Magi" by T.S. Eliot from Collected Poems 1909-1962. © Faber and Faber, 1974.

Sunday Preview: Wise Men, stars, camels...

Join us, this Sunday, for the last Sunday of the Christmas season - where we'll be pondering Wise Men, a bright shining star, and perhaps a camel or two. 

10.30am in the Parish Church, Abington.

Sermon, Christmas Eve - Watchnight, 2015

picture from http://stushieart.com/nativity-art/

It is a story both ordinary
and extraordinary.
Deeply profound,
yet stunningly simple.
Come.
Come to Bethlehem.
Come.
Come and behold him:
born the King of angels.
Come, let us adore him...

In a small, overlooked, largely ignored town -
the kind of place where, it seems,
nothing ever really happens,
on one particular night
the place is hooching and teeming
with vast crowds of people.
People, who, having left the town
where nothing much ever happened,
happen to come back,
because, on a whim,
the great and powerful overlord:
Augustus, Emperor of Rome,
decides that he wants to count
everything he has:
to take stock...
Indeed, all around the Roman Empire,
there is a large movement of people:
a movement of the less great,
the less powerful.
All are obliged to travel to their
home towns to register -
to be counted, along with the sheep, the cattle, gold, silver,
wheat, wine, and any other thing
that needs counting.

But this particular backwater town,
in a backwater province
on the edge of the Empire,
is poised to move
from obscurity
into history.
Prophets had spoken of it:
that out of little, ordinary Bethlehem,
something quite extraordinary would come.

Two ordinary, everyday people,
travelling from Nazareth
are caught up in the great counting exercise.
He: a tradesman - a carpenter.
She: pregnant before marriage.
He: initially dubious of the parentage,
but now standing by her.
She: ready to go into labour at any moment.
He: anxious.
Both: exhausted and seeking a place to stay.
And there is nowhere.
Every room is booked,
every nook and cranny filled.

Desperate, they knock on one last door.
There is no room.
And then, perhaps,
seeing her condition,
their desperation,
pity mingles with embarrassment
as he offers them space
to sleep among the animals.
It is rough, crude, shelter.
Ordinary.
No.
Much less than that.
Humble.
But it will do.
And as they begin to settle amongst
the straw and smell,
the baby begins to make its way
into the muck and mire of the byre
pushing its way out into the world.
Just another child.
Like every other child.
Ordinary.
But not quite.
For angels foretold this birth to her...
and to him.
Ordinary, yet extraordinary.
God of God
light of light
Very God - begotten not created
Come, let us adore him...

And shepherds - ordinary, everyday, workaday men -
men shunned by good, religious folk -
are visited by angels and told the news.
The herald angels don’t sing ‘hark!’
to high priest, or king...
The privileged, the ones of rank,
are the last to find out that something of interest may have happened.
God-in-flesh-appearing
arrives in the everyday goings on of the ordinary.

After ordinary shepherds are serenaded
by the extraordinary heavenly host of angels,
they drop everything and take up the invitation to:
‘come and behold him’
They join the heavenly song,
giving glory to God in the highest
as they greet the ordinary couple
with the new-born child,
who is resting in a food-trough.
A strange throne for the King of angels,
the King of Heaven:
God’s promised Messiah.

Much later, this seemingly ordinary,
yet somehow extraordinary child
will receive other visitors,
who want to come and adore him;
and his parents will accept strange
and beautiful gifts from them.

...But on this night,
heaven breaks into earth with his birth.
Hope springs up, where once it was lost.
This is the night of promise fulfilled -
of the long time of waiting, over.
This is the night where ordinary
becomes extraordinary;
where the less great,
the less powerful
are celebrated and lifted high -
where old definitions of power and importance
are defined anew.

This is the night,
this is the time,
that we tell the Christmas story once again;
where we remember that:
We were heavy with sorrow, 
but joy interrupted.
We were deep in the night, 
but a star appeared.
We were silent with sadness, 
but the heavens rang.
    And the splendour shone around them
    When the time had fully come.

We were hardened by conflict, 
but love intervened.
We were frightened by shadows, 
but light took them away.
We were haunted by fears, 
but a child brought us hope.
            And Mary laid him in a manger
            When the time had fully come.

We were dismal and defeated, 
but faith set us on fire.
We were weary and complaining, 
but our hearts discovered praise.
We were doubtful and confused, 
but a door to life was opened.
            And the guiding star went before them
            When the time had fully come.

We were arrogant and angry, 
but his innocence disarmed us.
We were cruel, crude, and clumsy, 
but his grace made all things new.
We were selfish, narrow, greedy, 
but his joy we had to share.
        And they offered him their treasured gifts
        When the time had fully come.

We were sheep who had lost their way, 
but the shepherd knew our names.
We were strangers without a country, 
but our kingdom came to us.
We were children far from home, 
but God sent his Son to guide.
            And the Word was flesh among us
            When the time had fully come.
                            [written by Kenneth I. Morse, from “In Straw and Story]

It is a story both ordinary
and extraordinary.
Deeply profound,
yet stunningly simple.
Come.
Come to Bethlehem.
Come.
Come and behold him:
born the King of angels.
Come, let us adore him...

This is the night,
the morning,
where we tell the Christmas story once again:
where we sing with angels,
and welcome the Christ-child
into our hearts and homes once more...
This is the time when we sing:
‘Yea, Lord, we greet thee,
born for our salvation;
Jesus, to thee be glory given:
Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing...
Oh come let us adore Him,
Oh come let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him, Christ The Lord.’ Amen.

Carol service, Wanlockhead: with Leadhills Silver Band

Our evening service on the 20th saw the annual Carol Service
at Wanlockhead - Scotland's highest village. As ever, we were
ably led by our friends from the Leadhills Silver Band.
Huge thanks to them, and for everyone who turned out.
And yes, mince pies were consumed afterwards...

Here's a wee clip from the service:

Nativity Service, 2015

Great fun this morning - with lots of gift boxes to open, giving us clues with which to tell
the story of the first Christmas. Visits, too, from shepherds, angels, wise guys, an innkeeper,
Mary and Joseph, baby Jesus, and assorted animals in the stable.
Below, some pictures:

the Innkeeper eyes two Shepherds suspiciously, as they
approach the stable...

Angels, stars, a manger, a baby...

Magi on the move, stable-bound...

Christmas Services [update]

Just an update on services over this Christmas season...  
Everyone welcome!

Sunday 20 December: 
*10.30am: All-age Nativity service - rumour has it that an angel or two
may even be flying in during the service... the Minister has a strong suspicion that
there will be mince pies
with post-service tea and coffee.
*6.30 Evening Carol Service at Wanlockhead, sing along to much-loved carols
accompanied by the fabulous Leadhills Silver Band.

Thursday 24 December, Christmas Eve:
*6.30 Carol Service at Holy Trinity Chapel, Lamington: led by the Minister
...and then, in the parish church at Abington:
*11pm pre-Watchnight mulled wine and mince pies in the Church Hall
*11.30pm: Watchnight service - come, welcome the Christ-child in...

Sunday 27 December:
*10.30am: Service of Lessons and Carols -
well, after all, it's still the Christmas season!
...an opportunity to sing a few more carols before they're packed away for next year.

Sermon, Sunday 13 December, 3 Advent

Our white tree was decorated with footprints:
on one side inscribed with a symbol for a dream or a vision
that we have for our lives/ our church/ our world...
and on the other, a first step we might make to begin to see the
dream into reality.

Given our Nativity Service next week, our theme today was 'joy', as we thought of Mary's response to God.
The sermon was in the form of an adapted monologue told from Mary's point of view...*

Micah 5:2-5[a]
Luke 1:39-45
Luke 1: 46-55 the Magnificat

SERMON ‘Magnificat: a reflective monologue’
Let’s pray:
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts,
be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer, Amen...

Why me? Why me?
I am an old woman now, with what seems to me
several lifetimes' experience behind me,
and I still can’t answer that question properly.
Don’t get me wrong:
I remain convinced that God has a habit of -
raising up the humble and overthrowing the proud.
If nothing else, I’m proof that God uses the most unlikely to fulfil his promise!
I remember the day I met my cousin Elizabeth:
she came rushing from her house to greet me with such joy -
and then, it felt as if I’d turned prophet:
as from out of nowhere, I heard myself singing
a great song of liberation and rejoicing.
But why he chose me in particular – well, you see, that continues to astound me.
I feel so privileged, so undeserving,
and yet, oh, so very glad that I chose to say ‘yes’.

Honestly, though, it was bit of a bolt from the blue.
Who would have thought that in the midst of doing my daily chores -
I was off to the well to fetch some water -
such a momentous thing would happen?
I don’t think I was even doing anything particularly spiritual -
my mind was on many things,
but I can’t say that God was in the midst of my thoughts.
In fact, as I walked along that well-worn path with my water pot,
I was thinking about what marriage to Joseph would be like.
Although the date hadn’t been set, the wedding wouldn’t be too far away -
relatives on either side were busy negotiating, and were nearly done.

There’d never been any doubt about the match -
our families had known each other for years,
and this match had been spoken of for years..
but you know what it’s like:
everyone loves to make a song and dance about this kinds of thing;
it was our custom.
I was looking forward to the wedding day.
The whole village would be there and distant relatives as well.
There would be feasting and music,
dancing and banter,
laughter and, yes, tears.
While moving into a different stage of life,
I was leaving the ones I’d grown up with...
a happy-sad day.
But, I was happy with the prospect of marrying Joseph –
my parents had made a wise choice,
even wiser than I thought, as events transpired.
He was good, sensitive and gentle, hardworking and widely respected.
True, he was a bit older than me, but then I valued someone of
maturity and experience.
I was just a slip of a girl, barely a woman,
and I needed someone to help me grow up
and deal with the responsibilities that would come with
being a wife and, hopefully, a mother.
And then came that life-changing encounter.

Everything I had planned, hoped and dreamed about
was shattered by the angel's message.
God had noticed ... me?
But, I was just a lass - of no importance.
I wasn’t anything that special...
And while I had my family responsibilities -
like fetching the water and generally mucking in...
well, suddenly it seemed I was about to have even greater responsibility thrust upon me:
Suddenly it seemed that the whole course of my nation's destiny,
no, of the world even, hung upon my response to the angel’s question.

It was a terrifying choice.
Saying 'No' was nigh unthinkable when I was in the presence
of the angel of the Lord of Hosts.
But saying 'Yes' might mean
the end of any marriage,
the loss of a husband,
the certain loss of my reputation and any respect in the village.
What would my parents say?
And how could I begin to parent the Messiah, Emmanuel?
I was totally inexperienced and largely unprepared for motherhood.
It was an awesome responsibility.
God was taking an enormous risk.
I mean, really - I’m not so sure that this was actually such a good plan...
In any case, how could I conceive  and bear a son without a man?

All those thoughts raced through my head as I heard Gabriel's words.
But it was as if God had already pre-empted me -
headed my reasons and rationalisations off at the pass.
He got it: he knew and understood my quandary.
Now I know that seems a silly thing to say, for God knows everything,
even our deepest unspoken thoughts,
but as you can imagine, I was pretty confused.
What clinched it for me was the announcement about Elizabeth's pregnancy.
Now in her sixth month, she was a woman who had despaired
of ever having a child - and yet, her she was... pregnant!
A miracle!
My defences crumbled.
I surrendered to the divine purpose.
God had sought me out.
He would fulfil his promise to his people.
And he would do this, through me...
but it still was my choice.
I chose ‘yes’.

Little did I know then what that 'yes' implied.
Sure, I could foresee the scandal,
hear the gossip,
the pain in my family,
...Joseph's disbelief and rejection.
But as far as Joseph was concerned,
God turned that round, I did not lose him,
although the wedding was a very muted affair.
I was thrilled to visit Elizabeth, to share in her joy and she in mine.
She understood, but strangely, so did the child in her womb -
it was positively leaping about for joy in there.

I was blessed indeed...
However, even though I was truly blessed,
that didn't shield me from danger, or distress, or unexpected joy.
For I didn't foresee the weary road to Bethlehem in my last week of pregnancy;
the birth in the stable;
the angels, the shepherds, and the coming of the wise men.
I was heartened and overjoyed by Simeon's blessing on Jesus in the temple,
but disturbed by his prophetic words:
'A sword would pierce my heart.'
That was unnerving, but, I thought it was fulfilled when we
fled to Egypt and heard of the slaughter of the babes of Bethlehem.
But no, it was not what he’d meant...
he was seeing far further into the future than that,
when my son was no longer a baby, but a grown man...
on a Friday grown dark with shame and blood and pain.
Simeon’s words, and the words of long-ago prophets
ringing out the words of salvation and promised fulfilment
as my son hung bruised and bleeding from the Cross.
I would have given everything to have taken his place -
spared him that pain -
avoided that death...
as he hung there, giving everything for the world.
His agony, my agony, as I watched.

My ‘yes’ to God ending in this - surely, it couldn't be?
But this was not an ending: it was to be a new beginning.
It did not end here on a cross...
My steps led me, one morning, to a garden:
to an empty tomb and new life - resurrection.
While night had fallen,
nevertheless, the sun had also risen...

But all of that was a long time ago, and for now, I ponder that baby -
so small,
tiny,
vulnerable.
God’s fragile gift for the world.
And I am Mary, blessed among women:
'For he that is mighty has magnified me 
and holy is his name.'   Amen.

*I've lost the original version of this, so can't attribute where needed...

Parish Magazine

Our parish magazine has returned after a near-3 year break, just in time for
Advent, Christmas, and the New Year.

You can find it over here

Christmas events and services

A quick overview of events and services happening over the seasonal period:

Christmas Events/
Community Christmas carols: 
Why not join us for some community singing?
Junction 13 Community Choir will meet for a one-off rehearsal
on Thursday 17th from 7.30-9pm.
This, to get us in form for:
Friday 18th carol singing at Leadhills Community Christmas Carols from 6.45pm;
informal carol singing Saturday 19th outside Abington Store at 5pm.
And then, to help with our Nativity service on Sunday 20 December.
Come and join us, and bring some friends!!

Christmas Special Worship Services/

Sunday 13 December, 3pm: ‘Tidings of comfort and joy’. 
A quiet service for reflection and remembering.
Especially for all who struggle at this time of year.
There will be time during this service to remember those,
who for whatever reason, are no longer with us. If you know of a
friend or neighbour who might find this helpful, please do invite them to join us.
Tea and coffee will be available in the hall after worship.

Thursday 17 December, 11am: joint schools service -
Leadhills, Abington, and Crawford Primary Schools gather at the church
for music, and readings, and Christmassy things

Saturday 19 December, 2-4pm(ish) Christmas mini-retreat: 
The church will be open and all are invited to come along at any point
during this time for quiet space. There will be ‘meditation stations’ in various
areas of the church with a Christmas-oriented theme, and you’re welcome to
interact with these as a means of helping to focus your thoughts on the
reason for the season. Tea, coffee, and mince pies will be available in the hall.
[After this time, why not pop across for some community carol singing by the
Abington Store?]

Sunday 20 December: 
*10.30am: All-age Nativity service - rumour has it that an angel
may even be flying in during the service...
*6.30 Evening Carol Service at Wanlockhead, sing along to much-loved carols
accompanied by the fabulous Leadhills Silver Band.

Thursday 24 December, Christmas Eve:
*6.30 Carol Service at Holy Trinity Chapel, Lamington: led by the Minister
*11pm pre-Watchnight mulled wine and mince pies in the Church Hall
*11.30pm: Watchnight service - come, welcome the Christ-child in...

Manse musings: hospitality, welcome, and Christmas...

[from our resurrected parish magazine - December issue 2016 - 
date of writing was earlier, due to publishing schedules, hence the October ref.]

This time, exactly a year ago [29 October] I was in the old manse surrounded by boxes and preparing to head out to the church for the evening to be both ordained and inducted as the parish minister of Upper Clyde. It’s been possibly the quickest year of my life. Right from the outset, it was all go: my very first Sunday included a baptism, the second was Remembrance Sunday, and the third was another baptism. Thereafter, it was the whirlwind that was Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany, during which, the church sanctuary became a life-sized stable complete with donkey, manger, bales of hay, and a shining [LED] Star of Bethlehem.  I have a strong suspicion that we might not have seen the last of the stable...[thanks to the construction crew!] In the midst of this, I had a ‘moving experience’ as I relocated down the road to the new manse and began to finally unpack boxes and settle in.

Right from the beginning of my time here - actually, even before I officially started - I’ve been made to feel so welcome by people both in and out of the church. From Wiston to Wanlockhead, there’s a huge depth of hospitality and generosity among the people of this parish which is quite humbling for this ‘townie’ minister to see and experience. Thanks for making it so incredibly easy to fit in and settle into my job and my new home. Over the course of time, relationships have been built, and many conversations have been had - at the school gates, in village halls or stores, in homes, church, or even the occasional field. Sometimes the conversations have touched on the raw stuff of life, as well as the joyful, or the weather; through them all, I count it an immense privilege when people have shared their stories with me. Regardless of whether you’re a ‘member’ or not of the Kirk, if I can be of help with a listening ear, please don’t hesitate.     

I’m also very grateful to the Kirk Session of Upper Clyde for their kindness and support to this new minister; I’ve very much appreciated their wise counsel, their wide range of skills and gifts, and the depth of understanding of the parish that they serve in as elders. It has also been a joy to welcome and ordain three of our church members into the eldership this year: Ursula Baillie, Teresa Brasier, and Aileen Gemmel.  Along with the Session, I’d also like to thank the members of the congregation for your encouragement, and your willingness to share a vast array of gifts: from hospitality and home-baking, to reading, or singing in the monthly choir, to arranging flowers and magicking up the occasional cup of tea for a thirsty minister - and also for your quiet patience and bemused smiles on those Sundays when I’ve inadvertently had a service with more than one new hymn! I’m gradually getting to know what you do and don’t know, so a big thank you for your bearing with me, and a big thank you to our three organists who try to keep us all ‘singing from the same hymn book’! 

Hospitality, welcome, and building relationships are also themes that loom large through Advent and Christmas.  The story of what happened in a stable over 2 000 years ago in Bethlehem is very much a story of hospitality and welcome: God, all-powerful becoming God, all vulnerable - dependent upon the hospitality of the human heart to take him in.  As each of us prepare to mark the coming season in our many different ways, as we enjoy time spent with family and friends, as well as remember loved ones no longer with us, may all of our homes be places of welcome and warmth, and may we know the peace and the joy of the Christ child, this Christmas. 

Thanks for taking me in as your minister this year,

Nikki...

Sermon, Sunday 6 Dec, 2 Advent: 'Prepare'

Over the season of Advent, we are decorating a bare, white tree with various symbols.   
Last week, we reminded ourselves we are a people of promise, 
that we are people who live with hope in our hearts.
Writing our names on the back of green paper leaves, the 'empty' tree sprang into life...
This week, picking up on the Advent theme of 'peace', we named places where peace
is absent/ or people who live in areas where there is no peace. These mini-peace prayers
were in the shape of doves, which nestled among the tree branches....

The sermon picked up on the Advent theme of preparing for Christ's coming,
focusing upon John the Baptist
Malachi 3: 1-4
Philippians 1:3-11
Luke 1: 68-79

SERMON 'Prepare'
Let’s pray:
May the words of my mouth and the meditations 
of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, 
our strength and our redeemer, Amen.

In a far away land, 
in a far away time,
there lived a people oppressed 
by a foreign power…
Occasionally, some among them would shake their fists at their overlords, 
and some would rebel… 
but they were too weak and too powerless 
to resist for long.  
Mostly, the people kept their heads down and just got on with 
the business of living and making the best out of a bad situation.
In this far away land, so long ago, 
the people felt forgotten by their God…

In their distant past, their God had travelled with their ancestors, 
had rescued them from other oppressors, 
and spoken with them through inspired visionaries – prophets.
The voices of the prophets had given hope - reassurance, in the dark times.
The voices of the prophets warned and promised:
warned of judgement, spoke of justice, 
promised God’s mercy, rescue, love and grace. 
But the prophets had long since gone.
God seemed far away.
Distant.
Silent.
And then… 
the silence was broken by the cries of a wailing infant.
A prophet was born.
His name was John -
the last and greatest of the prophets.

John was the answer to prayer of a childless couple: Elizabeth and Zechariah.  
And it was said by folk far and wide 
that the hand of the Lord was upon John, 
...and all wondered what would become of him.
And Zechariah, filled with awe, thanksgiving and the Holy Spirit prophesied:
He saw God once again saving his people – 
liberating them from the phoney peace that had been brought by the Romans:
phoney, because peace is not peace if you’re living under the heel of the oppressor.
He saw the beginnings of God’s promise to his ancestors coming true, 
coming to fulfillment, and his son was the one who would usher 
in that fulfillment -
preparing the way, 
preparing God’s people:
John, prophet of the Highest.
John, messenger of God.

God’s voice once again sounded through the land 
in John’s words of repentance, salvation, forgiveness, and compassion.  
In John’s message were words of light and life 
and hope and peace.                                                 
John’s words were words of preparation for the One who would follow, 
who would be greater than him.
John’s words sounded through the wilderness places:
‘Be prepared.
Be prepared to see what God has done;
what God is doing...
what God will do.
Clear the decks!
Make the roads straight!
Get rid of the obstacles…
Get rid of anything that will stop you hearing and seeing what God is doing’
That, in a nutshell, was what John was all about – 
calling God’s people to stop, look, listen and prepare:
To be prepared for the coming of Christ.

And if we were to continue reading the gospel, 
we’d find out that many people did listen to John, messenger of God.
They flocked to hear -
and, on hearing, they chose to change, to repent, 
to turn their lives around to face God, 
not look the other way.

And, there were also those who didn’t listen.
They were just busy getting on with their lives
And the sounds of their busyness blocked out the sound of God’s words….
God’s life-giving words.
…Such extraordinary words – 
Words about God’s Word – Jesus: 
God become human.  
God’s ‘extraordinary’ Word…
The Word ignored in the routine humdrum of the everyday.
But whether God’s people responded or not, 
whether God’s people prepared… or not.. 
light grew in the darkness regardless… 
a light which the darkness has never been able to fully extinguish:
the light which shines, on those who live in the darkness under the shadow of death….

On this second Sunday in the season we call ‘Advent’ we encounter John the Baptiser, 
who called God’s people so long ago to prepare for an encounter with God.
And down through the years, John continues to call God’s people to prepare to encounter God…
And his message meets us - here, now …
In this time,
in this place.

As we were reminded last week, Advent is the season of waiting… 
and in the waiting time, we, too, prepare to encounter God.
It can be a hard thing to have to wait...
it can be a very hard thing to swim against the tide of tinsel and glitter in the 
headlong rush to Christmas. 
In the jangle of tills and the jingle of carols we find it 
harder and harder to hear God’s voice…
Pressurised to worship at the altar of consumerism, 
to worship the retail God who is never satisfied, 
it takes all the energy we can muster to fight against it 
and to remember the real ‘reason for the season’… 
We can easily get caught on the merry-go-round that seems to 
whirl dizzyingly faster and faster, almost unable to stop and to take time.
...And sometimes… the busyness is also a way of avoiding that encounter with God.  
The reading from Malachi talks of God’s coming in dramatic terms:  
Of a refining fire, of purification…
Malachi says:
‘Who can endure the day of his coming?  Who can stand firm when he appears?’
Perhaps, sometimes it just feels safer to hide under the tinsel and glitter?

The birth of John,
the liberating song of his father, Zechariah,
John’s life, and his message to all to be prepared for Christ’s coming 
challenges us.
forces us to stop, to think…
and to ask questions:
In this time,
in this place, 
how are we preparing to encounter God made flesh, this Advent?
Is there something we need to do to make it easier for Christ to enter our terrain
and to be known in the world?  
Is there some path through our souls which we need to straighten, to smooth?
Is there some mountain of an obstacle that needs to be levelled 
so that Christ will meet less resistance in us? 

As we prepare to encounter God with us, 
I’m reminded of an old Celtic saying about meeting Christ in the stranger’s guise.  
It reminds us that we’re all created 
in the image of God… 
As we encounter one another – 
even, or especially, in the midst of this busy waiting and preparing time – 
are we prepared to see and to encounter Christ in one another?  
As Paul saw Christ in and at work in the lives of the Philippians, 
do we see and encourage one another to be more like Christ?
Someone once said that Advent is ‘preparing for the long view: 
we reflect on the coming of Christ past, present and future.
Christ past – in the miracle in the stable in Bethlehem;
Christ present – born again in our lives now;
Christ future – when he will come again at the completion of all things.’

Advent is a time that prepares us for more than Christmas…
At Christmas, it’s right to sing the well-loved carols of joy, 
that tell the story of the Christ-child… 
but the story is bigger, so much bigger:
We’re also telling the story of the God who sees the pain of His people 
and who breaks into His world to lead us out of pain and darkness.  
God gives birth to hope where there’s despair, 
light where there’s shadow,
And life, where there’s death.
It is the greatest story:
A story deep and rich and beautiful;
A story which lasts forever;
A story that makes sense to prepare ourselves for.

If we stop,
if we still ourselves,
if we listen very hard, 
perhaps we might just hear a miracle:
the beating of a tiny heart…
the heartbeat of the One who became one with us and for us:
the One who is wonderful, counsellor, 
prince of Peace... mighty God.
Over this Advent, let’s watch, wait, listen…
and prepare to be amazed as we encounter God
in Christ once more. 

Let’s pray:
Loving God
You are not distant or detached
You meet us where we are.
In this season of Advent
Help us prepare to look for you 
behind the tinsel and the glitter,
that we may worship you in spirit and in truth,
and in hope-filled joy.  
Come now, O prince of peace...
we, your people, are waiting.
Amen.

Guild News: 'taste and see'

The Guild will meet:
in the Church Hall on Wednesday 9 December, at 2pm.
Members have been invited to bring and share some of their favourite Christmas recipes -
to 'taste and see'.
Given how many great bakers we have, this should be a tasty meeting!