Sunday, 26 February 2017

Sermon, Sunday 26 Feb Wk26: Up on the roof...WMRBW

READINGS: 1 John 1:1-2:6;   Hebrews 11:1-8;   Mark 2:1-17            

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.

[looking up to the rafters]
Can you hear it?
There’s a noise.
Up there,
up in the rafters,
up, beyond the rafters...
Can you hear it?
Footsteps on the roof...
and muffled voices...
and the sound of digging.
Any minute now, they’ll break through,
and the light will, for a moment,
fill the opened roof and pour in upon us –
just for a moment,
because, with some grunts and groans and quite a bit of shuggling,
the light will be blocked by something...
a make-do stretcher, holding someone –
a man being lowered down,
down,
down
through the roof and into our very midst.

All is silent now,
because having people break open your roof
in the middle of worship and teaching –
having someone lowered down on a stretcher right into your midst
would be the very last thing you might just be expecting to happen,
and it might just cause you to be so taken aback
that you’re surprised right into silence...
I wonder,
I wonder how we – how I – would react,
if suddenly, that happened here?
And I’d be very interested to know just how our property convener would react too!

Of course, our roof is quite different to the roof of the house we find
in our passage from the gospel of Mark.
Mud-brick houses, and baked earthen, flat ceilings are much easier to dig through
than our slates, rafters, and pitched roof.
And, while possibly a bit inconvenient, they’re possibly a tad easier to fix, as well.

The journey of Jesus, from birth to baptism, has passed,
and his time of public ministry is well underway:
his reputation is growing
and people are beginning to wonder just who he is,
alongside just what he does.
Our gospel story is set not long after the calling of the first disciples.
Jesus, and the disciples have begun travelling around the Galilean countryside.
Jesus has been teaching and healing and talking of the coming of
God’s kingdom of heaven on earth –
talking about what that might look like,
talking about a different way of being,
of living,
in the world.
It’s... intriguing.
It’s ...counter-cultural stuff.
It’s life-affirming, life-giving,
and hope-bringing.

His reputation has now reached the point where it has become hard to blend in, to be incognito.
Jesus can no longer expect to just walk into a town openly,
without being mobbed by a whole assortment of people
keen to see this famous man –
keen to hear and be healed by him;
keen to get whatever it is they need to get from him.
And so it is, that, having arrived in Capernaum, many gather at the place he’s staying.

It’s a return visit, and the townsfolk have all heard of –
and many were actually present at –
the dramatic healing, or more precisely, exorcism, in the synagogue
that Jesus had performed the last time he’d been in their midst.
‘What will he do this time?’ they all probably wonder.
It’s no wonder then, that the house is utterly packed to the gunnels –
with more folk standing outside blocking the door,
and others probably sticking their heads through the windows
to get a look-see, and to hear what he has to say:
for they’d been very impressed with his way with words at the synagogue
the last time he was here, even before he’d done the exorcism.
Somehow, more than any other holy man, any other rabbi,
he teaches with authority,
he knows things...
he knows ...God,
the source of all life,
the source of light.
They are hungry to hear more.

Meanwhile, out on the edges, a small group of friends have heard that Jesus is in town.
Their pal is not well.
They are sure, are certain, have faith that somehow this rabbi can help their friend.
But the crowds in and around the house block any chance they have of trying to get to Jesus.
They hatch an ingenious plan – or, in today’s corporate speak:
they find a solution by thinking ‘out of the box’.
Up onto the roof they go with their friend.
They begin digging.
I wonder when Jesus, and the crowd, begin to notice something’s happening above them?
Are bits of dirt beginning to fall on top of the crowd as the friends above keep digging?
But eventually, light pours in from a now-open to the sky ceiling.
I have this picture in my mind of a whole crowd of dust-coated folk brushing off dirt,
and looking up as several heads poke through from above
and wave and say ‘hi!’ rather cheerfully!

The persistence of the friends pays off, however:
their friend is lowered down into the house.
Surely Jesus will heal him after all that effort?
But, it’s not the first thing he does.
Here’s a man who’s been presented to Jesus with a very obvious physical need...
but Jesus goes beyond that – sees a deeper need:
He looks at this child of God
...and forgives him.
And only after this, heals what’s physically troubling the man.

Jesus, through his actions,
is showing that restoration is more than just a physical matter;
it’s also a matter of the heart and soul.
Jesus enables the man to be wholly restored –
returned to God,
returned to fullness of life:
and also, in this instance, healed of his physical infirmity.
Restoration runs through the whole of scripture.
From that time of turning away in Eden by the very first human beings
near the beginning of all things,
right through to the end of all things as described in the Book of Revelation,
the great theme that runs through the story God and the people of God is one of restoration:
God calling people to return to him,
to come back into the light,
to have life – abundant life,
to be restored
reconciled –
to him.
The great work of restoration begins with God’s call offering forgiveness.
And, as we seek forgiveness and are forgiven,
so the healing of body, mind, and spirit begins:
our restoration to wholeness, to fullness of life.
But forgiveness doesn’t just stop there.
For we’re also to be reconciled and restored to one another as Christ’s body:
to walk in the light, as God is in the light, to have fellowship –
healthy and life-affirming relationships with one another.

The season of Lent is a time in the church year
that concerns itself especially with restoration of relationship:
between God and the people of God,
and between each member of God’s people – one with another.
It’s a time to acknowledge those particular things that get in the way
of right, or restored relationships with God and with each other.
While we may not have crowds blocking our way, or a roof to dig through,
there are plenty of other obstacles that can stop us from getting closer to God:
the source of life
the source of our healing
the One who, since near the beginning of our human story,
has called us to return to him.

Do we carry our grudges,
or nurse our hurts,
or allow anger to fester up inside us...?
Maybe we need to remove a roof,
maybe we need to put our obstacles on a stretcher and carry them to Jesus to deal with...
and in doing so, to see restoration and healing –
and the breaking in of God’s kingdom of heaven here on earth...
for that is an ongoing process.

Over these coming weeks of Lent, we’ll be exploring a little of what it is to be God’s people:
people of faith,
people who walk in the light.
And as we do so, we’ll walk the road to restoration and wholeness:
and, should we find ourselves needing to dig through the occasional roof as we do so,
and get a little covered in dirt, to get closer to God,
that’s okay –
for God’s love makes us both whole and cleanses us.

Let’s pray:
God,
as we move towards a new season in the church year,
a season that challenges us once more to focus more fully upon you...
so we come:
with hesitant steps
and uncertain motives
to sweep out the corners
where sin has accumulated,
and uncover the ways
we have strayed from Your truth.
Expose the empty and barren places
where we don’t allow you to enter.
Reveal our half-hearted struggles
where we’ve been indifferent
to the suffering of others.
Nurture the faint stirrings of new life,
where your spirit has begun to grow.
Let your healing light transform us
into the image of Your Son.
For You alone can bring new life
and make us whole.  Amen.*
                [prayer from Roots]

Wednesday, 22 February 2017

Ash Wednesday Service

Ash Wednesday Service

...the journey of Lent begins

6.30pm, 1st March at Upper Clyde Church, Abington

'Everything in life has its own time. 
There is time to celebrate and there is time to mourn. 
This is the time for reflection and transformation. 
Let us look within and change into what we ought to be.'
                                                                   ~ Aaron Saul

Join us, as we mark the beginning of the season of Lent with the marking of ashes.
A short, reflective time of worship to help focus ourselves on God in a more intentional way:
marked as God's own through the marking of ashes on our palms,we journey into lent and look toward Easter.
All welcome.

Thursday, 16 February 2017

Contacts, information, events...


The minister will be on leave from: 6 Feb - Tues 21 Feb 

Pulpit and funeral cover: 

12 and 19 Feb: we welcome back the Rev. Sandy Strachan - formerly NHS Chaplain in Dumfries.

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:

Thurs 16 Feb, 7pm: 'Wordworks' writing group
will meet at the Colebrooke Arms, Crawfordjohn.
All welcome to come and share pieces you've written, or are currently working on.

Thurs 23 Feb, 7pm: Kirk Session meets in the Church Hall

Parish Magazine: items sought and volunteer distributors needed.
The Easter edition of our Parish magazine is now in process.
Articles, poems, drawings, anecdotes are always welcome.
Deadline for submissions is the end of February.
ETA on magazine being available is toward the end of March.
We’re also looking for willing folk to adopt some streets in their village/ surrounding area
and help pop the magazine through doors. If you can help with either, that would be great!
Many hands make light work...
Please let the Editor, Dee Yates know.

 Stamps: 
A reminder to you to save any stamps from your mail and bring them in to church.
They are a great way of raising money for mission work. The box for stamps can be
found in the vestibule. Thanks all!

Sunday, 12 February 2017

February Lunch Club

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.

Friday, 10 February 2017

Contacts, information, events


The minister will be on leave from: 6 Feb - Tues 21 Feb 

Pulpit and funeral cover: 

12 and 19 Feb: we welcome back the Rev. Sandy Strachan - formerly NHS Chaplain in Dumfries.

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 15 Feb, 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.

Thurs 16 Feb, 7pm: 'Wordworks' writing group
will meet at the Colebrooke Arms, Crawfordjohn.
All welcome to come and share pieces you've written, or are currently working on.

Parish Magazine: items sought and volunteer distributors needed.
The Easter edition of our Parish magazine is now in process.
Articles, poems, drawings, anecdotes are always welcome.
Deadline for submissions is the end of February.
ETA on magazine being available is toward the end of March.
We’re also looking for willing folk to adopt some streets in their village/ surrounding area
and help pop the magazine through doors. If you can help with either, that would be great!
Many hands make light work...
Please let the Editor, Dee Yates know.

 Stamps: 
A reminder to you to save any stamps from your mail and bring them in to church.
They are a great way of raising money for mission work. The box for stamps can be
found in the vestibule. Thanks all!

Wednesday, 8 February 2017

UCPC Burns Supper: a great night out

The UCPC Burns Supper was held on Saturday 5 Feb at Crawford Village Hall.

A sold out event.
A fabulous evening!

Huge thanks to our speakers:
Kenny Johnstone - Address to the haggis
Dougie Telfer - Immortal Memory
Archie Gilbert - Toast to the Lassies and a cracking rendition of Tam o' Shanter
Molly Wilkinson - Lassies Reply
and...
to our musicians:
Lynne Cochrane - for piping in the haggis
Kenny, Lorna, and Steve Johnstone - for Burns songs, and Auld lang syne

Thanks also to the wonderful Social Committee of UCPC for making the whole
event possible with their formidable organisational and logistical skills and general
hard graft - great team work - well done!

And thanks to everyone who helped behind the scenes - 
furniture movers, china and glass fetchers and carries, prize door donators,
and all those involved in the many things needed to help get things started and keep them going.

Especial thanks to all who came along to support what was a thoroughly enjoyable evening.

There weren't many opportunities to take pics, but here are a few - apologies for poor quality!




Monday, 6 February 2017

Contacts, information, events...


The minister will be on leave from: 6 Feb - Tues 21 Feb 

Pulpit and funeral cover: 

12 and 19 Feb: we welcome back the Rev. Sandy Strachan - formerly NHS Chaplain in Dumfries.

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 15 Feb, 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.

Thurs 16 Feb, 7pm: 'Wordworks' writing group
will meet at the Colebrooke Arms, Crawfordjohn.
All welcome to come and share pieces you've written, or are currently working on.

Parish Magazine: items sought and volunteer distributors needed.
The Easter edition of our Parish magazine is now in process.
Articles, poems, drawings, anecdotes are always welcome.
Deadline for submissions is the end of February.
ETA on magazine being available is toward the end of March.
We’re also looking for willing folk to adopt some streets in their village/ surrounding area
and help pop the magazine through doors. If you can help with either, that would be great!
Many hands make light work...
Please let the Editor, Dee Yates know.

 Stamps: 
A reminder to you to save any stamps from your mail and bring them in to church.
They are a great way of raising money for mission work. The box for stamps can be
found in the vestibule. Thanks all!

Sunday, 5 February 2017

Worship, Sun 5 Feb: wk23 'Encounters with Jesus'...WMRBW

Having seen Jesus in action in the role of teacher last week, talking about what the kingdom of heaven is like, this morning we turned our attention to Jesus' encounters with people.

The overall text lent itself to being broken into four separate shorter readings and bite-sized reflections, rather one longer sermon today.
Readings and subjects as follows:

1st READING: Luke 18:9-17
We met a humble and repentant tax collector
2nd READING: Luke 18:18-30
the story of a rich young man;
3rd READING: Luke 18:35-43
a blind beggar by the side of the road;
4th READING: Luke 19:1-10
and Zaccheaus

Wednesday, 1 February 2017

Burns Supper

UCPC Burns Supper


All welcome to a celebration of our national bard, 
Robert Burns.

Tickets £15 - use the 'contact us' tab in the right side column for further details

Join us for what promises to be 
an excellent evening!

Sunday, 29 January 2017

Sermon Sun 29 Jan wk22: The kingdom of God is like...WMRBW

1st READING: Jeremiah 31:31-34  
2nd READING: Mark 4:1-30

SERMON 'The kingdom of God is like...'
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.

There was a kindness to her, and a strength;
a goodness that even I, at four or five years of age, could sense.
She worked at the salon with my mother,
both cutting, styling, perming the hair of their ‘regulars’.
My babysitter, Lynne, would drop me off just before mum was to finish,
and I’d play out in the back amongst the large styrofoam heads used to display wigs,
or cheerfully sort out the colour and shapes of the many types of hair rollers.
Beppie, who was Dutch, would pop through from the shop front,
always with a smile and friendly words.
One day, she’d nipped into the back to get something for her client.
That was the day I saw the numbers;
blue-black numbers written on her arm.
I was just little, and I was a very curious and outgoing child.
So I asked.
Her eyes were sad and she grew solemn,
‘Sometimes there are people who do bad things.
This was a long time ago. Those people are gone now. It’s better to be kind, isn’t it?’
I nodded.
She tousled her fingers through my hair, and then went back out to her customer.

Over the years, I learnt more of Beppie’s story.
She’d lived in Holland with her husband at the time of the NAZI occupation.
All the freedoms that the Dutch had known were being taken away.
Some people escaped.
Some colluded.
Some resisted.
All, however, just tried to get on with the business of trying to live.
Beppie and her husband, like many others, kept their heads down,
and tried to go about their daily lives,
but they were being watched.
You see, Beppie’s husband was Jewish.
At some point, along with a number of other Jewish people, he was rounded up:
destined for a concentration camp.
The authorities weren’t interested in Beppie – she wasn’t Jewish.
In that sense, she was safe.
But she refused to leave her husband and so, she, too went to the camp: Auschwitz.
Her husband never came back.
Somehow, she survived, and ended up in Australia, cutting other people’s hair,
and being kind to small children who asked hard questions.

As many of you know, last year, I visited Auschwitz with a friend.
I thought of Beppie and her husband – of their story.
And there, in that place which had seen brutality, and dehumanising horror,
that place where those who were deemed ‘unsuitable’;
there, where those who ‘didn’t fit in’ to the ideology of the ruling regime,
had been rounded up and killed,
I thought of kindness,
of words heard as a little child:
‘It’s better to be kind, isn’t it?’

Throughout human history, there have always been regimes who,
to help stay in power, would scapegoat groups of people –
in that sense, the NAZIS weren’t unique.
There have always been empires or kingdoms built on the backs
of those deemed of little importance, expendable,
and those deemed enemies of the state.
In every kingdom, the powerful, and those whose faces ‘fit’,
enjoyed the privileges that being a kingdom afforded.
And, in every kingdom, those privileges have always been bought
at the expense of human suffering of others:
those taking the lion’s share of the riches of the kingdom, have done so
at great cost to others, causing them:
loss of property, loss of liberty, loss of dignity, and at times, loss of life.

The cost of building and maintaining earthly kingdoms is high indeed.
A great tool in the building and maintaining of an earthly kingdom, is fear:
use that – make people feel unsafe,
find those who may, in some way be different,
and point to them as potential threats,
and you keep the citizens of a kingdom – or nation –
so focused upon the possibility of threat, of hurt,
that you can begin to take away their rights, their freedoms.
It’s a tactic that’s been used over millennia.
A tactic that’s justified all kinds of ugliness and discrimination.
A tactic that so easily builds into an ongoing spiral of violence.
Kindness is kicked to the sidelines.

You know, I don’t know about all of you, but it seems to me
that it feels like we’re living in a time of deep fearfulness, and of ‘othering’:
where racial and religious profiling is being rolled out by governments –
our current earthly kingdoms –
and where, as a result, innocent people become the targets of hate crime.
We watch the news, read the papers, and see headlines that are quite frankly, alarming:
the world seems to be spinning out of control.
What’s the point of being kind?
Why try to do good?
Why look out for those around us –
surely it’s better just to keep our head down and look to our own needs?
Where is God,
and when will God’s kingdom come?
Because Sunday by Sunday, when we pray the Lord’s Prayer,
we’re praying for the coming of God’s kingdom...
How long do we have to wait –
or, is God’s kingdom just pie in the sky when you die?
What about your church, Lord?
The church worldwide feels like it’s dwindling,
and we wonder why more folk don’t come to church.
It’s very easy to get into a culture of fear, of introspection,
and of blaming others.

In response to roughly similar questions put to him by his disciples,
Jesus told them parables –
parables of sowing seed,
of growing seed,
and of the mustard seed:
parables about God’s kingdom.
‘A farmer went out to sow’ says Jesus.
The seed ends up everywhere: on the path where the birds eat it;
on rocky places where the soil is shallow – the plants grow,
but quickly fail because their roots aren’t deep enough;
some seed falls into thorns, and get entangled and choked up;
and other seed falls on fertile soil, producing an amazing and abundant harvest.
God scatters the seed generously – far and wide
and in that great scattering, the kingdom somehow manages to grow.

A man scatters seed on the ground.
Regardless of whether he sleeps or not,
the seed gets on with the business of growing,
producing a harvest...
and like the seed, so the kingdom will appear.

A mustard seed – small, seemingly insignificant – is planted.
From tiny beginnings, a happy outcome:
a place where birds find sanctuary in the branches of this now great plant,
just as the kingdom of God is a place of flourishing and sanctuary.

In his own time, living under the power of the Roman Empire,
Jesus tells stories of the kingdom of heaven:
‘The kingdom will come’, he says.
God’s mercy, grace, and love will bring it in.
Things may seem to be falling away, dwindling – but take heart:
although you look around you and it feels so very far away, the kingdom is near.
These parables are Jesus’ assurance to his followers that the kingdom will come.

But when?
The kingdom will come in God’s good timing:
God brings it –
we are God’s workers in the kingdom,
but it is God who produces the harvest.
Our job is to get on with the business of sowing the seed:
sharing the good news of the kingdom with those who have ears to hear.
We share the good news in word, and in deed:
‘It’s better to be kind, isn’t it?’
So, as God’s Spirit dwells within us, the fruit of God’s Spirit blossoms:
kindness, goodness, patience, gentleness, self-control, faithfulness, joy, peace, love.
As we love, as we are kind,
as we live in the way of God’s kingdom whilst living in the midst of earthly kingdoms,
so we resist that culture of fear that tries to normalise those acts
that would lead us even to the gates of places like Auschwitz.

Pastor Martin Niemoller was a German minister and theologian
who spoke out against the NAZI regime, and, for doing so,
spent time in both Dachau and Sachsenhausen.
He saw, first hand, the power of fear, and of ‘othering’ –
of dehumanising and scapegoating people.
His understanding of God’s kingdom
and of our part as sowers of the seed of the kingdom,
found its expression in the following call to action:
First they came for the Socialists, 
and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, 
and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, 
and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me—
and there was no one left to speak for me.

We are not, as John Donne observed ‘an island unto ourselves’,
we are all of us connected –
for we are all created in God’s image.
We, as citizens of this kingdom, are called to to be like that lamp on a stand –
revealing God’s goodness and loving-kindness:
for the kingdom of God is counter-cultural and speaks up in the face of evil.
In a week that saw both Holocaust Memorial Day
and the Presidential signing of orders
for building walls,
and of banning certain kinds of people from entering the United States,
and faced with our own responses to the aftermath of Brexit...
it is more urgent than ever to stand up –
and to live into our calling of sharing the good news of God’s kingdom:
a kingdom completely unlike the worldly kingdoms and empires
that have come and gone throughout history.
For the kingdom of God is eternal, it lasts forever;
it is a place of flourishing, of abundance,
of justice and mercy and righteousness;
a kingdom in which all share in the rich harvest of God’s love –
for there’s more than enough to go around;
a kingdom not built on the backs of the least and the most vulnerable –
for all are honoured and valuable.
It is a kingdom of life –
for the One who draws us together
has both spoken life into being and defeated death itself.
We are citizens of that kingdom:
a kingdom of kindness,
a kingdom where we challenge those who would cause harm in any way to others
by wounding words or harmful acts:
for God’s kingdom is a kingdom of reconciliation and of welcome;
of hands extended, not fingers pointing.

The Dutch writer, Henri Nouwen, when thinking of what the kingdom of God was like, wrote:
‘for Jesus there are no countries to be conquered, no ideologies to be imposed, 
no people to be dominated. 
There are only children, women, 
and men to be loved.’

Beloved people of God:
in your very lives, show the signs that the kingdom of God is near:
let your lives be love-letters to the world,
showing another,
a different way:
a different kind of kingdom.
And, as you do, so you scatter the seeds of God’s kingdom, and so, the kingdom will come.

‘It’s better to be kind, isn’t it?’
For loving-kindness is a most powerful act of resistance against the rhetoric of power and hate
so often seen in the kingdoms of the earth.

Let’s pray:
We don’t see it, but its effect is clear;
We don’t hear it, but its message is never silent;
We don’t feel it, but its influence constantly moves us.
Reaching through every system,
Flowing through every interaction,
Silently moving the world
toward its God-designed purpose,
More powerful than the strongest army,
yet infinitely gentle;
More significant than the most influential government,
yet without coercion or manipulation.
The kingdom of God is subversively at work,
and it is here. Amen.

Thursday, 26 January 2017

Burns Supper

UCPC Burns Supper


All welcome to a celebration of our national bard, 
Robert Burns.

Tickets £15 - use the 'contact us' tab in the right side column for further details

Join us for what promises to be 
an excellent evening!

Tuesday, 24 January 2017

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 January 2017

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

Tuesday, 10 January 2017

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!

Sunday, 8 January 2017

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

Friday, 30 December 2016

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.

Monday, 19 December 2016

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!

Friday, 16 December 2016

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

Tuesday, 13 December 2016

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.

Monday, 12 December 2016

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!

Tuesday, 6 December 2016

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...

Monday, 5 December 2016

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.