Sun 22 Jan wk21: Feasting on grace...WMRBW

1st READING: Mark 1:21-28
2nd READING: John 2:1-12

SERMON
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.

It is a windswept, dreary, one-horse,
no-one-ever-wants-to-go-there, kind of place.
The landscape is flat.
The sky is perpetually grey.
The roads are always muddy.
The few houses that there are, seem turned in on themselves.
Overall, there’s the sense that this is a forgotten, impoverished place,
where life is hard, cheerless, and unrelenting.
Many years back, a church had been founded by a widowed minister,
who’d been left to raise his two daughters on his own.
His was an austere form of religion, that seemed to fit with the generally grim setting of the village.
All worldly pleasures – such as you could find in that place – had been renounced.
Life was a serious matter, and this was reflected in the clothing - which was all black -
and in the food - boiled cod and a thin gruel, eaten day in, and day out.
Heavenly pleasures, on the other hand, found their expression in
Sunday worship through the singing of hymns such as
‘Jerusalem, my happy home, name ever dear to me.’
In the meantime, life on earth was to be tolerated, and spent in doing
good works while awaiting arrival into that heavenly Jerusalem, that happy home.

As they grew up, the minister’s daughters, Martine and Philippa,
named after Protestant reformation heroes Martin Luther and Philip Melanchthon,
were beauties – and despite the severity of their clothing, their radiance shone through, undimmed.
Approaching marriageable age, they saw off many suitors.
Two suitors stood out especially.
Martine had been courted by a handsome cavalry officer,
while Philippa had caught the eye, or rather the ear, of a visiting opera singer,
Achille Papin, a Frenchman who had come to the area in the hope that the
sea air would be good for his health. Martine had such a gift for singing,
that those in the church who heard her, were almost transported to heaven when she sang
the weekly hymns. Papin wanted to take her back to Paris, to sing in the great opera houses.
Although the suitors of both girls promised, and could have delivered, them riches and fame,
the girls resisted the temptation: dutifully, they stayed at home, looking after their father.

Many years passed.
The minister died, leaving behind his now middle-aged unmarried daughters to continue
his mission in the church – for there’d be no minister coming to this quiet backwater.
However, without the stern hand of the minister, the church began to splinter
as different members fell out with one another, or spread rumours, or refused to
speak to one another at various times. Numbers dwindled, but the sisters remained faithful,
and kept the church running, alongside doing kind deeds for the elderly in the village.

Life was ordered, predictable, and a little bit dull. Until the night of a great rainstorm.
Sheltered in their house from the worst of the storm, the sisters heard a great thumping on the door. As they opened it, a woman entered, fainting at their feet.
The sisters tended to her, and when she’d sufficiently recovered, they discovered
that she didn’t speak their language. Instead, she handed them a letter of introduction...
from Martine’s long-ago suitor Achille Papin.
The woman’s name was Babette, her husband and son had been killed in the civil war in France.
She was fleeing for her life, and Papin had come to her rescue, booking her passage
on a ship to the village, hoping that the villagers would take her in.
The letter stated that she could cook.
And so, after much deliberation, the sisters took her in, and,
in exchange for room and board, she did the household chores.
However, given how stern their religion was, there was to be no fancy French cooking.
Dutifully, Babette boiled the cod and made the gruel every day, uncomplaining.

Life settled back into a routine, and twelve years passed.
Babette became a useful member of the community, feeding the poor folk of the village,
helping to organise the church services, and doing all the sisters’ household chores.
All agreed that she’d brought life and vitality into the tired old village.
Given that she never talked of her life back in France, nor had she ever had
any communication with others, the whole village was astonished on the day
that Babette received a letter.
She read it, and told the watching sisters that she’d just won 10 000 francs:
seemingly, every year, a friend in Paris renewed her number in the lottery
and this was her year to win. The sisters congratulated her, but in their heart of hearts,
felt that it wouldn’t be long until she left to return home.
But then she did a most surprising thing:
observing that the 100th anniversary of the founding of the church was fast approaching,
instead, Babette begged of the sisters one thing: to prepare a real French dinner for the
anniversary service.
She had never asked a favour before, and so the sisters gave in,
despite their misgivings about fancy French food –
what on earth would she serve them, they wondered...frog’s legs?
Yuck.

In order to prepare for the meal, Babette went away for several days to get items ordered.
In the weeks after her return, strange and exotic items arrived for the meal:
crates of small birds, cases of champagne, truffles, pheasants, even a turtle,
appeared and headed into the kitchen.
The sisters grew rather alarmed, but couldn’t go back on their word to Babette.
And so it was that Martine and Phillippa met with the other members of the church –
now reduced to eleven in number, and wondered what to do about this grand French meal.
Eventually after much discussion, the group agreed that the only course of action
was to proceed with the dinner, however, to avoid vanity and pride,
and to ensure Babette would not get the wrong idea, they would talk of anything else,
but not the actual food:
After all, tongues were meant for praising God, not for indulging in exotic meals.

The day of the founder’s feast arrived, along with an unexpected guest:
the nephew of one of the oldest members of the church, and who just happened
to be the cavalry officer who had tried to win the heart of Martine many years before.
The years had been good to him, and now he was a distinguished general.
Somehow, Babette had managed to track down the necessary amount of
china, silver, and crystal needed for the guests.
The table was dressed, and the room beautifully decorated.
The guests were suitably impressed, but, when the meal began, they
remembered their agreement and sat quietly, not commenting on the food.
The General, on the other hand, was in raptures –
he was astonished by the high quality of the food:
‘Incredible!’ he said, as he tasted the turtle soup.
‘Veuvre Cliquot? Here?’ Unbelievable!’ as he drained his glass...
As each course arrived, he was voluble in his praise.
At one point, Babette’s signature dish is served:
and the surprised General knows exactly where he’s eaten this food before:
the famous Café Anglais in Paris.
Still the villagers made no comment on the food...
and yet, over the course of the meal, the ungracious villagers began to relax:
old arguments were settled, and brothers reconciled;
the two who’d not spoken to each other for years forgot that they’d not been speaking,
so distracted by the feast had they become.
Although the villagers found themselves talking of many things,
still they held to the agreement:
they would not talk of the meal – even though the General could speak of nothing else.
Moved to make a toast, the General praised God for the abundant talent and skill of the cook,
and for all good things...
a gracious toast about blessing,
about grace.

Eventually, the wondrous feast ended.
The small group left for their homes, under a glorious, star-filled sky, and found,
to their surprise, that joy had so overcome them and filled their hearts,
that they gathered by the fountain, joined hands, and cheerfully sang the old songs of their faith.
‘Babette’s feast opened the gate and grace stole in’ 
                                    [Philip Yancey, What’s so amazing about grace?]
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Babette sat, spent from all her magnificent labours.
It was then that the sisters realised that all of the church members had been faithful
to the agreement: not one had mentioned the dinner.
Hesitantly, Martine nodded
‘It was quite a nice dinner.’
Eventually, Babette looked at the sisters and confessed:
‘I was once cook at the Café Anglais’.
In the end, the sisters discover that Babette has spent the whole of her lottery winnings
on this great feast: for that is what a proper dinner for twelve would have cost at the Café Anglais.
Babette will not be returning to France – she has given all that she had:
the meal was an offering of grace – costing everything for the giver
and nothing for those who received.

The story of Babette’s feast shows the transforming power of joy and celebration:
even in spite of themselves, the villagers are moved by the great abundance and
very wonder of the meal. Hardened hearts are softened,
grudges are healed, and, as the meal unfolds
and the wonderfulness of it begins to creep into their very being,
and into their senses, long buttoned-down,
their enjoyment and pleasure leads them to a deeper appreciation
and enjoyment of God:
grim faces are replaced by joy-filled ones –
and they become a deeply thankful people.
‘Grace came to’ the village ‘as it always comes:
free of charge, no strings attached, on the house.’
                                                                       [Philip Yancey]

These graceless ones find grace overflowing,
just as the guests at the wedding feast in Cana
found themselves startled by the best wine,
served last, by Jesus, who has become the unexpected, and grace-filled host.
The miracle at Cana shows the hearer of that story, of grace in abundance –
of grace overflowing.
It gives us a glimpse of the kingdom of God, in the midst of the everyday:
not buttoned-down and grim, but rather, a celebration of all of God’s good gifts:
a joy-filled place:
of both the joy of heaven and joy on earth. 
May we celebrate, and seek, more of that joy in our communities
and around our tables and open our hearts to wonder and surprise. Amen.

*If you've never read the short story, or seen the film: 'Babette's Feast', 

do yourself a favour. It's a fabulous parable of grace. The above is based upon a

chapter in Philip Yancey's most excellent book 'What's so amazing about Grace?'

Sunday 15 Jan, wk20: Identity issues...WMRBW

Continuing on a theme of being 'beloved' and picking up the theme of identity.

1st READING: Luke 4:1-30;
2nd READING: Luke 5:1-11

SERMON 'If'
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.

He stands, dripping, in the waters of the Jordan.
Baptised, Jesus has been named and claimed by God, as God’s ‘beloved’.
On the cusp of his public ministry,
Jesus is confirmed in his identity:
‘you are my Son’, says God,
‘I love you, I am well pleased with you.’

That’s part of the reading from the Gospel of Luke which we heard last week.
This week, the story continues...
Jesus, still a little wet behind the ears, moves from Jordan’s banks, and,
full of God’s Spirit, is led to the desert.
Going to the desert,
going into the wilderness,
is a time-honoured tradition within the ongoing story of God’s people –
but, why go there?

The desert is a time for remembering:
looking back at the story of God’s people –
those who journeyed out of Egypt from slavery and into freedom,
a freedom to follow God, who so visibly led them
by a pillar of cloud by day,
and a pillar of fire by night;
following God in the wilderness, who so physically fed them
through the provision of manna and quail...
and gave them water, to slake their thirst.
A time of remembering God’s faithfulness,
God’s provision....

The desert is also a time of preparation:
a time to get ready to follow God’s call.
The desert, a place of few distractions,
gives space to focus upon God,
to be still, to listen, and to wait for God’s voice.
Over the centuries, the prophets of Israel spent time in the desert...
and so, like the prophets of old,
Jesus sets his face to the barren, stony, seemingly lifeless desert:
to remember those who have gone before,
and to prepare for his mission,
for his part in the great arc of the story that encompasses both God,
and the people of God.

Having had his identity confirmed by God in his baptism,
identity features strongly as a theme during this time in the desert.
Or, more to the point, the attempt at undermining identity
through the use of one tiny, but powerful word:
‘if’.
‘If’ is a great word –
particularly if you want to plant a seed of doubt.
This word is used several times in a conversation
that we, as readers, as listeners, see and overhear.
It’s a conversation between Jesus, and the devil,
a conversation in which the devil tries to tempt Jesus –
to deflect him from his mission;
to crowd his mind with fanciful thoughts,
delusions of grandeur,
and completely distract him,
to try to do everything in his power
to prevent Jesus from living in the fullness of God’s strength and power.

Now, last week, we heard the story of a young King Solomon,
in the very early days of his reign.
In the midst of his prayers, God speaks.
And God makes him an offer:
God says to Solomon:
‘Ask for whatever you want me to give you.’
it’s an unconditional offer – ‘whatever you want,’ full stop.
Here, in the desert, however, the offer that the devil makes to Jesus
is very much conditional –
it comes with strings attached:
‘if you do this, then I’ll do ...that.’

In the conversation, the devil offers Jesus three things:
bread, power, and proof –
a way to really, really know that God will protect and keep him
safe from harm no matter what....
And it all begins with ‘if’:
‘if you are the Son of God’.
And the first temptation hits home hard.
Jesus is hungry.
He’s been fasting and praying.
Our reading tells us that he’d been in the desert for 40 days:
echoing the time that the liberated children of Israel had
wandered in the wilderness – each of his days representing one of their years.
Turn stones to bread?
A good plan.
Or, maybe not.

‘...if you are the Son of God...’
whispers the devil, and the condition:
‘prove it, do this...’
Jesus, though hungry, doesn’t need to prove to himself –
or anyone else for that matter – who he is.
He’s grounded in his understanding of who he is –
of whose he is...
God’s Son.
Beloved.
And with whom God is pleased.
He doesn’t need to prove that by doing some cheap side-show trick.
Jesus is not a show pony:
he’s the Son of God.
And, later in his ministry,
when crowds badger him for signs and miracles, as proof, or, as entertainment,
he won’t respond quite in the way that they expect.
Let Rome provide the bread and circuses:
Jesus provides something more essential, more long-lasting –
life in all its fullness:
humans don’t live by bread alone...
there’s more, so much more.

The second offer made to Jesus is grand in scope and in vision:
the devil takes him to a vantage point,
from which Jesus can see all the kingdoms of the world.
The great sweeping gesture is made to the carpenter’s son –
the invitation to look at all of this –
all of the power, the glory,
the splendour of it all:
‘All this will be yours,’
says the devil,
and, here’s the condition, the catch –
‘if you worship me.’
But wait a moment:
here is the Father of Lies, saying all authority is
given to him to give to Jesus...
No.
Actually, it belongs to God.
For, in the beginning, was the Word,
and the Word was with God,
and the Word was God...
through him, all things were made...’
All power, all authority comes from God –
Jesus has no need to bend the knee before the devil, who is lying, delusional, or both.
Jesus, bats this one away, keeping his focus upon God:
‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’

And the third temptation:
again, an ‘if’.
The scene changes, and they are in Jerusalem,
standing on the highest point of the temple –
the highest point in the whole city.
And here, the devil changes tack, and quotes scripture right back at Jesus:
showing that God will protect Jesus, that angels will guard him from all harm.
‘...if you are the Son of God...why not test God?
Jump off, and see what happens.’
But wait, what’s actually happening here:
is it a case of putting God to the test?
Well, yes, there’s an element of that.
But I wonder if there’s more?
The devil doesn’t care if Jesus is harmed, if Jesus is stopped in his tracks:
in fact, isn’t that exactly what the devil has in mind?
In goading him to jump, would Jesus have jumped to his death?
If you put God to the test, you may just die in this instance.
Even the devil uses scripture...
showing how easy it is to prove anything you like
by twisting scripture out of context –

Jesus refuses this third offer.
And the devil leaves him...waiting ‘until an opportune time,’ as our reading states.
This part of the story ends with a sense of foreboding and menace.

His time of remembering, and preparation, and testing over,
Jesus heads back to the Galilee, and begins his public ministry.
News spreads.
People are getting to hear about this radical young rabbi –
and what they hear is positive indeed,
and then, he heads to his home town.
If we were thinking of identity in the midst of his temptations in the desert,
here, in Nazareth, there are further issues of identity.
He heads to the synagogue,
reads from scripture that great passage of hope,
that message of liberation found in the book of the prophet Isaiah...
and there, in the midst of his home town crowd,
having read,
Jesus looks at them and says in a voice filled with authority:
‘today this scripture is fulfilled.’
He then begins to expound on the text, and initially, it goes well.
They are proud of this local boy done good – you can almost hear them say:
‘hey, this is Joe’s kid, who’d have thought it, eh?’
And they are warm in their sense of being special, of being chosen,
and, although the Romans are in control,
well, they don’t fall within God’s mercy or grace:
God’s love, God’s good news,
is only for those sitting in the synagogue.
God’s love, God’s good news, is ring-fenced.
Nobody outside the circle can get in.
For this home-town crowd, their whole identity is based on a sense of
‘well at least we’re not like those dratted Romans: 
we’re not like them, 
and they’re definitely not like us!’
It feels like their whole identity is wrapped up in looking down on the rest of humanity:
God is their God alone,
and not to be shared with outsiders,
with those who are different from them.
And then,... Jesus, changes the parameters.
With their sense of identity unexpectedly challenged,
the home crowd’s mood suddenly changes.
Jesus somehow manages to escape what has become a baying mob,
intent upon killing him, because they’re enraged at the very thought
that the good news is not just for them, after all,
for all are welcome into God’s kingdom.

Later, while teaching a crowd, Jesus will meet the ones who will
become his first followers – his disciples.
He will ask them for the use of their boats,
he will tell them how to do their jobs – (a little annoying, maybe!?)
‘why not cast your nets over there?’
This, in the face of the previous long night’s empty catch...
but, they go along with him, and, in doing so,
find the catch of their lives,
as they haul up nets filled to breaking point,
and gingerly sail boats so heavy, that they’re on the verge of sinking.
‘From now on, you’ll be fishing for people,’ says Jesus.
Intrigued, they put aside their preconceptions about God,
they allow for a different way of walking, and of being in the world...
Not really sure of who he is,
but knowing that he’s the rabbi everyone’s been talking about...
and that...there’s something, something special about him,
they leave everything, and follow.
It’s a journey of a lifetime,
in which they find out their own true identity;
in which, through their own temptations,
they learn that they, too, are God’s beloved,
and that God’s love stretches wider than they ever imagined.

In the desert, the devil tried to chop away at Jesus’ identity with the word ‘if’...
In Nazareth, the home town crowd thought they knew who Jesus was – Joe’s kid...
and initially, they were warm in their wee bubble;
but that bubble burst, along with their preconceptions of Jesus...
who they ran out of town for telling them some home truths about their own identity.
In a boat, with the smell of fish hanging in the air,
the fishermen, while not fully understanding Jesus’ identity,
knew there was something that marked him out,
and so they dared to hope,
and followed the call to fish in other, different waters....

In the here and now, what about us:
who do we say Jesus is?
Do we demand proof:
'if you are the Son of God, then...?'
Do we think that the good news is just for us –
and get enraged when the young rabbi challenges us to draw the circle wider?
Or, do we leave our boats, and our preconceptions behind,
and follow the One who calls us to be a part of his great, ongoing story?
Do we dare embrace our own identity as God’s beloved sons and daughters,
called to share with all, the great love of God revealed in the Son?
Who do we say Jesus is –
and, what are we doing about it?

Let’s pray:
You call us,
Wanderer of seashores and sidewalks,
inviting us to sail out of our safe harbours
into the uncharted waters of faith;
to wander off from our predictable paths, 
to follow You into the unpredictable 
footsteps of the kingdom;
to leave the comfort of our homes 
and accompany You into the uncomfortable neighbourhoods we usually avoid.

As we wait, speak to us
of that hope which is our anchor;
of that peace which is our rock;
of that grace which is our refuge,
And as you speak,
may we find ourselves –
who we truly are – in you,
this day and always... amen.*
     *based on a prayer by Walter Brueggeman, with some wee adjustments

Lunch Club, January 18

All Welcome...!

Wrodworks meeting this week

'Wordworks'

The writing group meets on Thursday 12 November,
7pm, at the Colebrooke Arms.

Bring along works both finished and in process....

All welcome. See you there!

Sun 8 Jan, Wk 19: 'Jesus coming of age'...WMRBW

Before we entered worship,
communion glasses filled with water had been placed in the vestibule. People were invited, as they entered, to take a glass and pour it into the large jug used for baptisms.
At the start of worship, as the Bible was brought in, so too was the jug now full of water - this was placed on the baptismal font.
Later, we were invited to quietly reflect on water and grace, of our baptism, and of being God's beloved, as the water was poured from jug into font...

1st READING: 1 Kings 3:1-28;
2nd READING: Luke 2:39-3:14; 3:21-22

SERMON
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.

High up in the hills, the smell of incense and burnt offerings fills the air.
Amid clouds of smoke, rising heavenwards, a figure stands before the altar.
He is praying.
As he prays, God speaks, saying to the young man so recently made king:
‘Ask for whatever you want me to give you.’
...A tantalising offer – the offer of a lifetime.
Solomon has the potential
to hold the whole world in his hands;
to have ultimate power;
to have ultimate honour and prestige;
to have wealth beyond all human imagining...
Solomon is asked, by the One who has it in his gift,
to have anything his heart desires...
A dizzying thought –
and, placed in that same situation how would we respond?
But there, in that high and holy place,
faced with the opportunity of a lifetime to have it all, Solomon does three things:
first, he gives thanks to God for showing kindness to his father, David
second, he acknowledges his own limitations – he’s young and inexperienced,
and none too sure how to carry out the great and many responsibilities of kingship...
and third: in both of those steps, Solomon understands that all the power,
all the wealth, and all the honour in the world, are utterly useless, if he doesn’t
know how to deal with it...
and so, in a moment of astonishing insight,
he asks    for wisdom.
And in the asking, Solomon pleases God greatly.
God is so pleased, in fact, that the writer of this account tells us that
wealth and prestige are added into the equation anyway:
having asked such a humble request, much more is given.

Shortly after this, Solomon’s wisdom is put to the test in a difficult case
involving a dispute between two mothers over a child –
whose child is it?
What will Solomon decide?
We heard the outcome of that story in our reading earlier –
and we also saw that, following on from his decision,
the whole nation was in awe:
though young in years, here was a man worthy to be king –
worthy to hold a position as a dispenser of justice –
his decisions were grounded in a wisdom given by God, which meant,
his decisions could be trusted,
his decisions were...good.
All in all, it’s a promising beginning.

Sadly, by the end of his reign, things will have gone very wrong indeed:
was God’s justice truly exercised?
Were Solomon’s judgements eventually rather murky and possibly,
even a little Machiavellian – the ends justifying the means?
Ironically, his ambitious building scheme –
particularly of the Temple –
was based upon the exploitation of human beings:
slave labour – and hard and punishing labour at that.
200 000 of his own people are conscripted into the building scheme,
along with foreign workers.
And, while it takes him seven years to build the Temple,
it takes fourteen to build his palace:
is this a wee indication of where he sees himself in the grand scheme of things:
has he begun to place more importance on himself, than upon God?
Later, he would chase after other gods – building altars to worship them...
gods who required child sacrifice which had,
from the time of Abraham’s trip with Isaac into the wilderness,
been shown by God to be abhorrent.
This was not what the people of God did.
In the end, all his power and astonishing wealth end up corrupting him.
After his reign, the kingdom will be split in two, and much diminished –
easy pickings for neighbouring enemies.
His kingdom fails, falling time after time into the hands of foreign empires.

Hundreds of years pass.
The current foreign empire is Rome.
Another young man appears –
a child of promise who has a strange birth heralded by angelic messengers,
with visitors travelling in starlight’s path,
and with the elderly Simeon and Anna singing his praises
upon his presentation in the Temple at 8 days old.
We’ve heard the stories over Advent and Christmastide...
And now we find this young man –
a young man ...for he’s just turned 12, the beginning of adulthood in that society...
we find him heading off to Jerusalem with his family
on their annual trip for the Feast of the Passover.
It’s a journey that takes several days –
it’s roughly 70 miles of travelling by foot or donkey.
They travel with many others, fulfil their religious obligations and then,
prepare for the return journey.
Parents, clearly thinking he was somewhere in the midst of the group,
actually begin the journey home,
only to find a full day later that he’s nowhere to be found.
And so they return, travelling weary miles back along the road to Jerusalem to track him down.
It takes them three full days.

Like that other young man before him, Jesus is in a high place –
the Temple commands a good view of the city.
He has been soaking up the atmosphere,
and, learning as much as he can.
He delights in time spent in the company of religious teachers –
listening to them,
asking them questions,
and...they, enjoying this young man’s enthusiasm and obvious talent for learning,
ask him questions in turn.
There’s a deep wisdom in this young man – and all who hear him are amazed.
Perhaps they wonder what his future might hold.
Whatever it is, it’s sure to be bright:
God’s hand is so very clearly upon him.

After much searching, his parents to find him, and it perplexes Jesus:
why didn't they start at the Temple?
For to him, it's obvious: where else would he be, but in his Father’s house...
So, even at this young age,
having just attained manhood,
Jesus actively seeks out God.
So young, yet so focused on following.
They head back home.
And all we know of Jesus, from this point until we see him at thirty, is that,
‘he grew in wisdom and stature, and favour with God and men.’

Before we meet Jesus again, in our reading from Luke, we’re introduced to his cousin, John.
John is now full-grown, and, sensing a call from God, begins a preaching tour,
calling on those he encounters to repent –
to have a change of focus and of heart:
to turn their lives to God.
He preaches, too, of the One who will follow after him – the Messiah.
His manner of preaching is blunt:
you don’t get many preachers who call their listeners a brood of vipers...
The crowds seek him out, fascinated and possibly fearful,
and he is asked by many how they might live a more godly life.
And then, one day, the One he’s been speaking of appears, seeking baptism.
Jesus, still eager,
still focused,
still walking in God’s ways
and now: a new beginning –
the baptism moves him into what will be his public ministry
and will set him on the long walk to Jerusalem and a cross.

At 12, in the Temple, he had sought to please God.
In his baptism, we see God’s response.
As Jesus prays,
it is as if heaven opens...
the Holy Spirit appears in the form of a dove;
and a voice is heard in heaven:
Jesus is named, and claimed in this act of baptism –
this act of obedience that seeks only to please God...
And God is well pleased with this Son of his.
Unlike Solomon, the good beginning that Jesus has made will continue,
eventually, conquering even death,
and, his kingdom will be totally different to the kingdoms of the world.
He will not become corrupted:
although he’ll face temptations,
he will stay focused,
he will live into his calling –
live as fully one of us,
modelling God’s kingdom of heaven on earth.

In baptism, Jesus enters into the human experience of living
as one who is named and claimed by God;
he shows us Gods grace –
shows us what God has done, is doing, and will do in our own lives.
Baptism is an entryway into new life,
new possibilities,
new beginnings.
It is an entry into the kingdom of God –
a kingdom of freedom,
a kingdom where all are of equal value
and none are oppressed –
for here, in this kingdom the yoke will be easy and the burden light;
It is a kingdom in which all are claimed,
and named ‘beloved’.

Baptised into this kingdom, how do we keep our focus upon God –
and not allow ourselves to become distracted
and corrupted and find ourselves in a bit of a Solomon-like mess?
Well, we’re baptised into community:
called to love one another –
so, we could start with speaking words of encouragement to one another,
maybe even be so bold as to remind each other of our place in God’s kingdom,
and call each other God’s beloved –
to see each other as God sees us.

In these early days of a new year:
if you’re minded to make resolutions
why not be minded to start a revolution –
to remember your baptism –
and in doing so, to live in God’s grace and be gracious to those you encounter;
to speak truth to power;
to help those beaten down, to stand;
to find the good, not the bad –
but not in some kind of Pollyanna, divorced from reality kind of way...
but rather, in the words of the song, to show that:
goodness is stronger than evil,
love is stronger than hate,
and that vict’ry is ours,
vict’ry is ours
through him who loves us.

Let’s pray:
Turn us around, God –
around into your way of thinking,
around into your way of loving.
Turn us around, God,
and confront us with Jesus.
Baptise our fears with your joy. Amen

New Year blessing...

Sunday preview: 'God Knows' or 'The gate of the year'

This Sunday we'll be thinking of gifts, and of gates, and of time, as we stand at the beginning of a fresh new year.  At this time of year, the poem by Minnie Haskins comes to mind:
'God knows' - or, it's better known title -
'The gate of the year'.

Here, copied below, the poem for reflection...



'God knows'
And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”
And he replied:
“Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the Hand of God.
That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way.”
So I went forth, and finding the Hand of God, trod gladly into the night.
And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of day in the lone East.

So heart be still:
What need our little life
Our human life to know,
If God hath comprehension?
In all the dizzy strife
Of things both high and low,
God hideth His intention.

God knows. His will
Is best. The stretch of years
Which wind ahead, so dim
To our imperfect vision,
Are clear to God. Our fears
Are premature; In Him,
All time hath full provision.

Then rest: until
God moves to lift the veil
From our impatient eyes,
When, as the sweeter features
Of Life’s stern face we hail,
Fair beyond all surmise
God’s thought around His creatures
Our mind shall fill.

Worship over Christmas and New Year...

Sunday worship 18 Dec: 'bingo', shepherds, baptism, and carols

A busy and fun Sunday! Here's a wee round-up:

Morning worship:
At our rather packed all-age, informal morning service we told the Christmas story
by playing a game of 'Christmas Bingo'.  We heard a reading from Matthew's Gospel that was
not unlike an episode of 'Who do you think you are', and discovered some surprising people
in the midst of the long list of names in Jesus' family tree.  In our other reading we
heard of angels visiting shepherds in Luke 2:8-20, and later, had an imagined reflection
from one of the shepherds about that night. He was rather surprised that angels would
trouble to visit folk such as him, given his own people looked down on the likes of shepherds;
maybe God's love was for everyone, not just those who thought they were 'respectable.'
We also had great fun welcoming young Innes into God's family through the sacrament of
baptism. And, we unfurled the last of our lovely Advent/Christmas banners, so beautifully made
by our craft group.

Community Carol singing, with Junction 13
From 1.30 - 5.15, folk from our community choir, 'Junction 13', managed to carol their way
around 5 of our 9 villages in the parish:
Abington, Crawfordjohn, Crawford, Leadhills, and Wanlockhead.
Huge thanks to our singers, for their tireless efforts - and particular thanks to the Foleys for organising us re. music and a spot of supper before evening worship.
Thanks, too, for the hospitality provided by Abington Store, Colebrooke Arms, and Hopetoun Arms and their much-welcome mince pies, choc. Yule log, lots of tea/coffee - which kept us all keeping on.
We managed to raise c.£160 for Cancer Research. Thanks for the kind donations! :)

and... evening worship: our Carol Service in Scotland's highest village
We finished the day with our annual Carol Service, in Scotland's highest village, Wanlockhead,
followed by some fab home baking. Thanks, as ever, to our friends from Leadhills Silver Band
[from Scotland's second highest village!] and to the fabulous Mary Hamilton, for providing the
music. And thanks too, to: Teresa Brasier, who put the service together, and to all the readers.
Below is a snippet of our final carol for the evening - apol's for the wobbly camera work on the
small Android phone!

Community Carolling

Lunch Club, December

LUNCH CLUB MEETS...

Join us as we bring our Lunch Club year to a seasonal close... We meet in the Church Hall, 12.30pm on Wed 21 December.
All welcome! Cost - £5

For catering purposes, please let Jenny Worthington know by the Mon evening

Worship at Upper Clyde: Christmas and New Year

Sunday 11 Dec, wk16 - 'ready, willing, able'...WMRBW

Our readings on Sunday were:
Micah 5:2-5a and Matthew 1:1-18 to 2:15.

Through the use of reflective imagination we heard Joseph's story,
some gathered thoughts from the Wise Men, and listened to what King Herod had to say. These short reflections were later gathered together for a brief homily...

Three weeks of Advent waiting, watching, and wondering.
Week One – and we wondered:
‘are we ready?’
Week Two – and we wondered:
‘are we willing?’
This week, Week Three, perhaps our wondering moves us to ask:
‘are we able?’
Joseph, when confronted with difficult news, also wondered: what should he do?
How could he move from betrothal, to marriage with Mary, given her ‘condition’?
What would people think?
It was just not the ‘done thing’.
Names mattered:
if he married her, and it got out that he was not the father
Joseph’s name would count for nothing.
Rather than being named as someone ‘respectable’ his name,
along with his family’s, would be mud.
He’d already determined to break off the relationship – but he was a decent man,
so he was preparing to break things off quietly, so as not to bring attention,
not to bring scandal upon Mary and her family.
And then, something changes.
Overturning the weight of societal expectations,
the burden of culture, and appropriate behaviour,
Joseph suddenly changes course.
He’s ready to wait and watch and prepare with Mary for the longed-for Messiah.
He’s willing to say ‘yes’ to God, and let go of his need for a ‘good reputation’.
He finds himself able to break out of the confines that he’s been boxed in to
by society, culture, and religious law – this, in order to do what is right.
In the process of saying ‘yes’ to God, Joseph discovers he need not be afraid
and, in doing so, finds an inner strength and peace to be a part of God’s rescue story.

Three weeks, and in this third week, three wise men:
kings? astrologers? priests?
Wealthy, influential, and wondering:
ready to look for signs that show them that there’s more to life than wealth and power.
Willing to seek for deeper meaning and to journey into the unknown,
on a voyage of promise and discovery.
And, on encountering that for which they have sought so long, and so hard...
they, like Joseph, find themselves able to forget about reputation:
they bend the knee to the child before them,
seeing in him the hope of all people;
the one who will bring peace, not a sword.

Three weeks, and three different kinds of king:
Herod –  the despot in Jerusalem:
the ultimate conspiracy theorist who sees plots and enemies everywhere.
Herod, whose reign is one of terror and revenge;
who has no qualms in disposing of family members, or small children,
to keep the power he so desperately craves.
A king who serves only himself.
Then there are the wise men – open to new things,
prepared to put aside their power for a time
when they come upon that for which they’ve been searching:
the child who will be king of kings, the prince of peace,
whose kingdom will never end,
and who will be named ‘Immanuel’ – God with us...
a king who lives in the service of others,
ready, willing, and able
to give his all and to teach us how to live in love, and service,
to God and to each other...

As we move toward Christmas, on this third week of Advent:
so our Advent question expands:
are you ready, willing, and able to follow the One born in the stable?

Let’s pray:
Joseph said, ‘Yes' -
in spite of his shock at Mary's news,
     the scandal it would cause,
     the damage it could do to his business.
What would we have done?
...
Joseph said, ‘Yes' -
which meant accepting Mary into his home,
     providing for Jesus' needs,
     welcoming God into his life.
What would we have done?
...
Joseph said, ‘Yes' -
to God breaking into his life,
     changing his focus and direction,
     bringing joy undreamt-of.
What are we doing?
...
Advent God,
forgive us for undue concern
with our plans and reputations,
worrying about what others will think.
Be our companion in our quest for fulfilment,
guiding our thoughts
and releasing our imaginations.
Lead us once more to the manger in Bethlehem,
preparing us to accept your gift of love.
Make us ready to receive you afresh
in this Advent season.
Break down our excuses and reluctance
and breathe freshness and enthusiasm into our living for and with you. Amen.

We're dreaming of a Guild Christmas...

The Guild meets on: Wednesday 14 Dec, 2pm...

Our meeting this month is cheerfully seasonal, as we feature favourite Christmas music. Members are asked to bring along a plate of Christmas treats.
All are welcome!

Seasonal services/ events in December

Tidings of comfort and joy: special service

Tidings of comfort and Joy:

a service of reflection and remembrance

Saturday 10 December, 2pm -
in the parish church at Abington

For all those who find this time of year difficult...

Join us for readings, reflections, and prayers to light this season with hope while acknowledging the losses we may have experienced in our lives...

Sermon, Sun 4 Dec wk15: 'Two women'...WMRBW

READINGS: Isaiah 9:2-7; Luke 1:26-38; Luke 1:39-56    

SERMON
Two women:
one is old, one is young.
One, married, the other, betrothed.
Both, however, find themselves unexpectedly pregnant.
The older woman, Elizabeth, has lived with years of shame –
a shame brought about through social custom, expectations, and pressure...
In the early days of her marriage, hope was high of maintaining the family line.
But, as the years pass, the only thing bearing fruit
has been the idle speculation and disapproving gossip of her neighbours.
More years pass and with them, hope has faded,
even as the endless whispered conversations have grown.
An old woman, now mostly ignored, mostly invisible, of little account;
a woman who is just getting on with what is left of her life.
A woman who is surprised one day to find that hope has not entirely withered:
like that great ancestor of her faith, Sarah, who thought she was too old to bear a child,
miraculously, Elizabeth too shall have a child in these, her later years.
Her world is turned upside-down.
She, and her strangely silent husband, Zechariah –
silent since his last stint at the temple –
watch and wait, and prepare for the unexpected.

The younger woman, Mary, has lived a quiet life,
stayed at home and helped her mother, and waited upon her father,
as all good daughters are expected to.
Following the cultural norms, this gentle and obedient daughter,
has recently been betrothed to a man deemed by her family to be suitable.
He will be more suitable than she currently understands:
showing patience, care, loyalty, and love in the midst of possible scandal.
However, at this point in time,
Mary has just been given utterly unexpected tidings from a strange messenger:
like Elizabeth, her whole world is about to turn upside-down as well.
In that most conservative of societies, where women are controlled
by their fathers, brothers, and husbands,
she has just been told by God’s messenger that she will have a child...
and, it will not be Joseph’s child that she’ll carry.

In a different way to Elizabeth, Mary too, will be subject to gossip and snide innuendo...
but she will bear it, and the child, for God’s sake.
In some strange way, this humble young teenager
- a woman of no importance in her society,
has been chosen to carry the hope of the nation,
the hope for the world.
Letting the message sink in, as much as she can, Mary says ‘yes, may it be as you say.’
Both women, older and younger, dare to believe that the impossible is...possible,
that they worship a God
who can do all things,
who can overturn all things.
They rejoice as they meet, and ponder what is about to come.

Later, sons will be born to both of them:
Elizabeth’s son will prepare the way for the son of Mary, Jesus...
who, in the mystery of incarnation, will be God, with skin on.
Even later, both sons will say ‘yes’ to their respective tasks,
and both will suffer for their willingness to play their part in the great story
of God’s rescue,
God’s deliverance of humanity...
God’s good news that turns the ways of the world upside-down,
which Mary sings of in her great song of rejoicing that is referred to as ‘the Magnificat’.

As Elizabeth and Mary meet one another their hearts sing as they realise that
something awesome, something amazing is about to happen:
something bigger even than God’s rescue of the Israelites from Egypt.
And, echoing the liberation song of Moses’ sister Miriam, Mary sings:
of the God who saves,
of the God who sees those unseen by society,
of the God who showers the most lowly with his blessing,
of the God who shows mercy...
This is the God who does not play by human rules of grabbing all for one’s own gain,
of having power by keeping others down:
for in God’s economy, God’s kingdom,
power is seen in vulnerability,
it is where the poor are fed while the rich are sent away.
Here is a God who believes
that all are entitled to share in the good things of the kingdom,
that all deserve to have life that is abundant – in body, mind, and spirit...
This is the God of unlimited grace
and unmerited blessing.

Mary’s song encapsulates what the gospel is:
good news for all of humanity, not just a select few.
And the life of her son, Jesus,
is the good news in word and in deed:
showing those who followed him and those who follow him still,
how to live, and what it is to be willing to say ‘yes’ to God.
Shortly, we share in bread and wine – the meal that Jesus made for his friends
and bid them, when eating, to remember him.
It is a solemn meal –
for we know that shortly after he met with his friends,
his willingness to be obedient to God would lead to suffering and death ...
But it is also a joyful meal –
for we know that death is not the end of Jesus’ story.
His story continues - even here, among us.
Perhaps if last week the question was
‘Are we ready?’ this week, the question is:
Are we willing – like Elizabeth, like Mary, John, and Jesus –
are we willing to say ‘yes’ to God,
to sing with Mary a hymn of good news, and, as God’s people,
to live out God’s good news in word and in deed?
Dare we believe in a God who makes the impossible... possible?
And, if we do, how might that transform not only our lives,
but the lives of all those   around us?

Let’s pray:
Enable us, gracious God, to listen as Mary listened
and to give ourselves fully and humbly and joyously
to that which you call us to do.
And whether it be dramatic or mundane,
may we reflect your wonderful love for each of us
and serve the world your Son came to redeem.
We ask this in his name.  Amen.

Advent Communion, 4th December

Join us as we share together in Communion

Seasonal services/ events in Nov/December

Contacts, information, events...

The minister will be on leave from: 
Mon 14 November to Mon 21 Nov.

Pulpit supply and funeral cover: 

Sunday 20 November: we welcome the Rev. Linda Walker, Education, Mission and Discipleship Development Officer for Hamilton Presbytery

Funeral cover: will be provided by the Rev George Shand who can be contacted on 01899 309400.
For any ongoing parish queries, please contact Moira White on 01659 74621

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

News, events, and general notices:

Wednesday 16 November, 12.30pm: Lunch Club will be held in the Church Hall. All welcome! Soup, sweet, tea/coffee, good conversation. Cost £5. Please let Jenny Worthington know by Mon evening if you'd like to come along.

Saturday 19 November, 10.30am: Annual Guild Morning Tea. This will be held in the Roberton Village Hall. Home baking, craft stall, tombola, and morning teas... come along and bring a friend!

Sunday 20 November, after morning worship: 
   Advent/Christmas edition of the Parish Magazine has now been produced and is available today.
   Dee Yates [editor] is looking for volunteers to help with distribution around the villages as per the
   previous editions. Many hands makes light work!! Thanks for helping.
AND/
   Advent Calendars:  There’ll be an opportunity to buy some Advent calendars after worship –
   not just any Advent calendars, but containing fairly traded chocolate. The calendar itself tells
   the real story of Christmas. If you’re looking for a small treat for a young person you know –
   or, for yourself – make sure to pick one up. Cost £4, with all proceeds going into church funds.

Thursday 24 November, 7pm: Upper Clyde Kirk Session meets in the Church Hall.

Saturday 26 November, 12-3pm: Advent mini-retreat: 'What are you waiting for?' 
Advent is the waiting time; the weeks leading up to the birth of Jesus.
As we head into what can be a busy [and stressful] time, this short Advent retreat provides an opportunity to catch your breath, and take time to prepare mentally and spiritually for the
coming of the Christ-child. We start with a simple lunch: soup, a roll, and a cuppa, and then
move into a more reflective space...Why not join us?
For catering purposes, please let Nikki know by the evening of Thurs 24 Nov. [t. 01864 502139]

Sunday 27 November, evening worship: 6.30pm at Leadhills Village Hall. Join us for this all-age friendly, informal service. Tea/coffee and a chance to catch up with folk after worship. All welcome.

Sermon, Sun 13 Nov: Remembrance Sunday 2016

Readings:
Ephesians 6:10-18 and Matthew 5: 43-48

SERMON                                                                      
[all turn to post-sermon hymn #710: '"I have a dream," a man once said']

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.

‘I have a dream’, a man once said, 
‘where all is perfect peace; 
where men and women, black and white, 
stand hand in hand, and all unite 
in freedom and in love.

Wondering if human beings could ever be a people who could truly live in harmony,
whether human beings could truly put aside their differences and love those who were enemies,
hymn-writer Pamela Pettit wrote the hymn that we’ve just turned to.
While specifically referencing the great speech given by Martin Luther King,
there’s a timeless quality, too, about the words Pettit wrote.
Although war and conflict seem to have been the default way of being
in the world for millennia, yet, alongside that view,
there have been those who dared to look for other ways to be:
those who have dared to dream of peace.
In 1914, when war broke out, it was optimistically bandied about
that this would be ‘the war to end all wars.’
That was the dream being sold: peace.
Was it possible to live in peace, to 'stand hand and hand'
and live 'in freedom and in love'?
Could living without war be something worth fighting for?
And, on a global scale, people responded to the call
to see an end to war.

It was the age of new empires –
French was spoken in Polynesia and the Congo,
German, in West Africa and Samoa
Britannia ruled the waves and the map was covered with
a pleasing amount of pink –
well, pleasing if you were a part of the British Empire, at any rate.
Alliances were made, and the empires jostled for power.
Each of the powers vied to demonstrate their superiority over others:
culturally, economically, militarily...
Each wanting to make their nation great,
pointing fingers at those who were different and saying:
‘we are better than you’,
‘we are more civilised than you’,
‘we are stronger than you.’
Each working for their own interest.
When the klaxons sounded, and war began,
on a global scale, people responded to the call
to show up the other nations;
to show to these others,
just how much better, more virtuous, more entitled
their own particular nation was to take, or to hold on to, power.

But in this world of bitter strife
the dream can often fade;
reality seems dark as night,
we catch but glimpses of the light
Christ sheds on humankind...
It was a time of innocence, and a time of cynicism.
For those many individuals who responded to the call –
whether out of a sense of duty, patriotism, or a sense of adventure,
there were those buoyed up by the thought of tidy profit:
corporations and shareholders quietly rubbing their hands
in anticipation of growing fat on the proceeds of death.
War is a strange business,
but a business, nevertheless.

Whatever the many reasons that propelled nations to sound the guns in 1914,
by 1916, the war is bogged down – literally, and strategically.
Since February, a long and terrible battle has raged at Verdun.
The French Army is pinned down by a sustained and strong German assault.
Meeting with allies, it’s decided that the British
will launch an offensive to the north near the River Somme,
to relieve the pressure on the French.
Along an 11-and-a-half-mile section of the Front,
18 Divisions of the British Army prepare for battle.
For the most part, they are young volunteers from every corner of the Empire,
with little experience of combat.
Across the field, the Germans know that a large-scale attack is imminent.
Lieutenant Frederick Bursey, of the Royal Field Artillery, writes in his journal, on June 23:
‘The Huns put up a board yesterday in their front line trenches and on it 
was pinned a paper with the following: 
“We know you are going to attack. 
Kitchener is done, Asquith is done. 
You are done. We are done. 
In fact we are all done.”’ 

After a long week of constant preparatory bombardment on the Germans,
the whistle sounds on the first of July, and all those fighting on the British side,
including Irish, Newfoundlanders, South Africans and Indians,
go ‘over the top’ of the trenches and into a hail of bullets and barbed wire.
It is utter carnage
and at least one man dies every 5 seconds.
By the end of this first day, 57 470 British casualties are reported, including 19 240 deaths:
15% of all British losses over the course of the entire war.
Private Frank Lindley, of the 14th York and Lancaster Regiment would later recall that day:
‘You could hear the bullets whistling past and our lads were going down, 
flop, flop, flop in their waves, just as though they’d all gone to sleep. 
I was in the first wave. There was no cheering, we just ambled across, 
you hadn’t a thought; you were so addled with the noise. 
Bullets were like a swarm of bees round you – 
you could almost feel them plucking at your clothes.’

Fierce persecution, war and hate
are raging everywhere;
God calls us now to pay the price
through struggles and through sacrifice
of standing for the right.
As the battle rages, on both sides of the trenches,
are those who believe that God is on their side –
that God is British... or German;
are those who have made God into some kind of tribal deity,
completely ignoring that all people are God’s people.
And that, God is in the business of reconciliation, not war.
It is why, in our gospel passage, Jesus turns conventional wisdom on its head:
not only should you love your neighbour, you should also love your enemy...
Later, this will be teased out further by Jesus:
your neighbour will not just be
those who live next door,
those who look like you,
speak like you,
think like you...
the idea of neighbour will be expanded to take in all people –
even those you struggle with;
those who, in the privacy of your heart, or in the public sphere,
you call ‘enemy’.

...War is not of God,
war is what humans do to each other.
But, God is not absent from war –
and even in the mud and blood of the trenches
and in the crater shelled hell of ‘no-man’s land’
God could be seen:
seen in tiny acts of kindness and compassion –
the reassuring voice of a sapper quietly talking of home to an enemy who lay dying:
seeing the person created in God’s image, not just ‘the Hun.’
God could be seen, in acts of sacrifice, where friend would push friend out of the way,
and take the brunt of a shell-blast, laying down his life for his brother;
God could be seen in the love of a son writing letters to his father,
wanting to spare him the reality – letters containing:
‘no word of the fighting, 
just the sheep on the hill’*
For as much as acts of kindness and compassion were shown,
as much as a life was given for another,
Jesus said:
‘whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

So dream the dreams and sing the songs,
but never be content;
for thoughts and words don’t ease the pain;
unless there’s action, all is vain;
faith proves itself in deeds.
We are called to see the image of God in one another;
called to love those who are easy to love,
and called to love those who, for whatever reason, are our enemies.
Love conquers hate –
this is what Jesus knew, this is what the apostle, Paul knew.
It’s easy to lash out at those who disagree with us,
who aren’t like us...
who don’t like us -
and, over the entire course of human existence, this has been the default pattern.
But we are called to break that pattern.
To put on God’s armour:
the belt of truth which breaks the lie that some are lesser than others;
the sword of righteousness, that swings through the misuse of power
which puts people down on the basis of race, or gender, or orientation,
or whatever way they may be seen as ‘different’.
We are called to lift one another up, in love.
Called to put on the shoes of the gospel of peace –
for that is God’s vision for humanity:
that we live in peace with God and each other.
And, in a world in which, this year, and possibly, this week,
seems to have grown that much darker,
we are called to take up the shield of faith:
and to believe that the darkness will not, can not
ever, ever win...
for the Light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness has never put it out –
no matter how dark,
no matter how ferocious the attack.

Wherever we are in our small corner, we hold to the dream of peace,
God’s perfect peace;
That is our battle:
we are called to fight and make real that vision of a world in which
all can live without fear,
in freedom and in love, 
where each can see the face of God in the other.

Lord, give us vision, make us strong,
help us to do your will;
don’t let us rest until we see
your love throughout humanity
uniting us in peace.        Amen.

*Earlier in the service, prior to the Act of Remembrance, we heard poems connected with 
the Battle of the Somme. The reference above is from 'In Memorium' by E. A. Mackintosh.

Wednesday Lunch Club 16 November

Services, REMEMBRANCE SUNDAY 13 November 2016

Wordworks Writing Group: November meeting

'Wordworks'

The writing group meets on Thursday 10 November,
7pm, at the Colebrooke Arms.

This month's writing prompts are:
*signs of a misspent youth
*the elements: air, or earth
*Remembrance [Day, or themes]

Or bring anything that you happen to be working on...

All welcome. See you there!

Sermon Sun 6 Nov, Wk 10 'Getting slavery out of the people'...WMRBW

1st READING: Exodus 20:1-21
2nd READING: Matthew 22:34-40

SERMON ‘Love God, and do what you like’
Let us pray:
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, o God our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

Picture the scene:
the wind is blowing mightily.
The very air is alive with crackling tension.
Thunder thunders,
lightning flashes,
there is a sound of trumpets in the air....
swirling smoke and cloud cover the mountaintop.
Far down below, in the shadow of Mt. Sinai, people huddle together trembling, afraid...
trying to find a little distance from the terror and the noise
and the all-pervading, utterly terrifying,
voice of the all-powerful God.
Too much.
It’s all too much to bear – and if they hear much more,
the people feel that they will surely die....

The description of the giving of the ten commandments is certainly not filled
with fluffy bunnies, pretty butterflies, or people skipping merrily along the way.
Nor, for that matter, does it feature Charlton Heston in glorious cinemascope,
with his long, grey beardy locks blowing in the wind –
as much as I, and Hollywood, certainly would like it to.
Rather, it is quite literally awe-some; designed to make you pay attention.
Something big is happening here, something of tremendous importance:
God... speaks.
The people of God tremble.
They think of death...
and miss the point completely:
God speaks:
ten words.
Words of life, not death.
Words of liberation, not captivity.

‘Law’...and...’liberation’?
But surely, ‘law’ and ‘liberation’ in the same sentence must be a bit of an oxymoron:
are contradictory?
Don’t quite compute.
Or, do they?
                                                                   
An Orthodox Jewish reading of the ten commandments has as the first commandment:
‘I am the Lord you God who brought you up out of the 
land of Egypt, out of bondage and slavery.’ 
Bill Wylie-Kellermann, writing for the magazine Sojourners asks:
‘This is a command?’
And he continues, by answering his own question:
that it’s a command that focuses upon the identity of the people of Israel...
and of what God has done...
it’s a command that implies to those who have ears to hear it:
‘Know that whose you are precedes what you do.’   
You    are    God’s    people...
this, then, is how to live as God’s people...

But are the 10 commandments merely just a bunch of
rules and regulations designed to spoil our fun?
As someone who’s been a very keen student of church law,
of course, I’d be inclined to say ‘no!’
And I’d add, that law – rules, regulations, codes of practice,
however you might describe them –
often get a bad press, which, I think, is a little unfair.
On the other hand, it is fair to say that the manner in which the
Ten Commandments are phrased don’t seem to help:
‘thou shallt not...’ is not the most positive of starting phrases, after all.
The phrase is a little like a verbal slapping before you’ve actually done anything.
‘Don’t do that!’
slap...
‘Stop it!’
slap...
It feels almost designed to beat us into submission...

The ‘thou shallt nots’ are all too easy to caricature, and in doing so,
misrepresent what I believe to be the actual intent of the commandments.
At this point, I’m hoping you’ve all been given a copy
of ‘the positive 10’ in your orders of service ...[copied below]
When I stumbled across this version of the commandments,
it really helped me see them with fresh eyes – and do feel free to take them
home with you and pin to your fridge. On the back of the service sheet,
in the ‘food for the journey’ section, you’re invited to sit with the
commandments over this coming week...
and I’ll be interested to hear where some of your thinking takes you!

Now, let’s go back to that comment about knowing ‘whose you are’ preceding
‘what you do’...                                                          
And while we’re at it, let’s also lose the word ‘commandment’ –
in the original context the Ten Commandments were known as the ‘decalogue’ –
‘ten words.’
The ten words are almost a foundational document of liberation:
And that liberation is founded on relationship.

Let’s have a look at the first four commands, or ‘words’...
These first four ‘words’ concern God in relation to God’s people,
and the people in relation to their God...
Just ‘whose’ are these people?
They belong – are in relationship with –  the One who freed them from captivity,
who took them out of Egypt, and on a journey into the wilderness wastes,
a journey where daily, they saw God’s saving hand at work:
keeping them fed and watered on the way.
A rocky journey at times, and this is not just a comment on the terrain:
Mumblings, murmurings, complaining:
even doing a little revisionist history concerning their time in Egypt –
to the point where some were inclined to believe that slavery, on the whole,
was actually pretty darned good.

But now, at the foot of Mt Sinai, they are no longer Pharoah’s:
they are God’s particular people, and God begins the process of
guiding them into a particular way of being.
Having liberated them for a particular purpose,
they are now in the process of learning what it is to live in relationship with God...
and, as we look at the other six ‘words’,
learning how to live in relationship with each other - their neighbour.

Ten words,
calling God’s people to serve God, and each other, in love,
Ten words that are a radical call for commitment to God and to neighbour...
and extending to all creation.
Ten words that continue to confirm my growing suspicion that God is indeed a Presbyterian.
After all, these words enable life to be lived decently, and in good order...
God, in the giving of these words to the ones liberated from Egypt,
provides a way in which order is created out of the former chaos
and reinforces that, even in the wilderness, life can be meaningful, and fruitful.
Importantly, that in the midst of it all, that there should be time to rest:
a clear message that there is more to life than work –
that we are defined by being in God, not by what we do.

These ten words paint an alternative picture to the Israelites previous life in Egypt:
a place where there was little interest in regeneration and rest, and no freedom....
In contrast to the Egyptian custom,
the commandments don’t sanction a human king or a leader to assert power over,
or demand allegiance from the people.
The community isn’t going to be defined according to the whims of power-hungry
human rulers. Instead the commandments demand loyalty and obedience to God alone.
The commandments also serve to formalize the connection and the
relationship between the realms of God and this particular people.
As Patrick Miller eloquently expresses it:
‘...neither community, nor deity have separate existences 
once the covenant is established. Even though both experience 
real abandonment on the part of the other for a time, they are forever linked.’

But what about us, the spiritual descendants of the children of Israel?
What about us, God’s people, the church...
God’s living stones...
called into community...
called to tell God’s story?
We certainly haven’t been released from captivity in Egypt...
And given the sudden drop in temperature over the last couple of days,
it’s not as if we’ve been stumbling about the searingly hot desert wilderness of Sinai.
So, what might these ten words have to say to us in our situation,
as we sit comfortably in our seats here in church?

I’m fairly sure that most of us here are aware of the ongoing talk of the church
being in a kind of terminal decline.
Of talk concerning how we, in the Church of Scotland in particular,
no longer seem to hold the privileged place in society that we used to,
when it came to having some kind of public influence.
Everything seems to be shrinking away...
the glory days seem so long ago.
In that sense are we, in a different way to the Israelites, wandering in the wilderness?
Is there a small sense of terror, as we watch the depletion of resources
and of the depletion of people and skills, of time and talents?
And like the Israelites, do we long for a return to the good old days?

Journeying in the wilderness can be terrifying –
all the securities and apparent guarantees of survival are gone.
But the wilderness could also provide the church with an opportunity
to re-define itself according to what matters most,
and in doing so, find fresh ways of touching the hearts of all we encounter;
for in the wilderness, free from unnecessary distractions, we are reminded of whose we are:
God’s particular people, in this particular time and place –
in our parish,
in our homes,
or wherever, and whoever, we are with.

What might our lives look like if we lived the Ten Commandments
as invitations to freedom, to life, rather than a set of rules to be followed?
What would life be like if we lived in the awareness that life comes from God,
that we don’t need to worship the false God of consumerism,
or bow down to the idol of celebrity?
What if we celebrated that we can still freely and publicly speak
God’s name in praise and prayer?
What if we recognised that life was about more than work and
took up God’s invitation to Sabbath?
What if we took up God’s invitation
to respect people,
to honour life,
and to honour relationships?
And what if we were on the receiving end of that respect and honour?
What would that feel like?
What would life be like?

Writer Joe Roos notes that:
‘the Ten Commandments don't begin with: 
"Here are ten commandments, learn them by rote,
or
"Here are ten commandments, obey them."
Instead, they begin with a sweeping announcement of freedom:
'I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery'.
We will probably always think of the declarations that follow as the Ten Commandments.
But we could, and probably should, think of them as invitations to God's liberation -
the ‘positive’ ten.

As we learn what it is to walk in the freedom that God gives to each one of us,
I’m reminded of the words of 5th century theologian, Augustine, who famously said:
‘love God, and do what you like’...
meaning, that although there’ll be the occasional glitch,
for we’re none of us perfect yet...
if we love God, what we like will tend to be that which pleases God
for we are his, and he is ours, and we live within the immense bounds of his amazing grace.

Let us pray:
God of justice and liberation,
may we, as your people, learn to speak 
with echoes of your life in our hearts and minds,
nurturing ways of behaving that are just and compassionate.
Free us as we begin today.

God of justice and liberation,
may we, as your church, learn from you 
what it is to be rightly angered at injustice in the world.
May we, as individuals and communities, 
see the speck in our own eye as we pass judgement on the log in another's;
and learn to challenge one another with sensitivity and care.

God of justice and liberation,
may we, as your church in the world, 
be free of all that holds us back from loving you radically and openly.
In the name of the justice-bringer and liberator, 
Amen.*
                  [*adapted from 'Roots']

The Positive 10:
• Put God First
• Give worth to the one who gives worth to you.
• Use God’s name with respect and love.
• Spend time thinking about God.
• Honour and love your whole family.
• Live towards other people with love and generosity.
• Find the richness in faithfulness towards others.
• Celebrate what you have rather than dwell on what you don’t.
• Speak well of others and truthfully to yourself.
• Why get down about what others have when you can share what you have with others?

Reminder: Sunday Potluck at the manse...

Lunch@the manse:
Sunday Potluck  

bring and share...
food and conversation...

All welcome to come along, to join in shared food and conversations as we continue to:
'make the road by walking'

...picking up on some of the themes we've been exploring in this first quarter of our new programme...
bring your thoughts, burning questions, and a plate to share.
All welcome!!