News, events, wk beg Mon 28 Oct

Thurs 31 Oct.: Moderator’s visit to Upper Clyde Parish.
The Rev. Colin Sinclair will be visiting Lanark Presbytery during the week.
As part of his time in the Presbytery, he will pay a quick visit to Upper Clyde
and make a circumnavigation of the parish.
While visiting, among other stops on the way, he will attend a school assembly in Leadhills -
Scotland’s highest Primary school, as well as pay a visit to the church in Abington.
You are invited to come and meet with the Moderator at the church over a cuppa
at approx. 2.15pm - a great chance to talk with him about the challenges and opportunities of rural life.

Sun 3 Nov., 10.30am, Morning worship, at the parish church in Abington: 
We are delighted to be welcoming Gregor Wallace Drife into God’s family
through the Sacrament of Baptism
and at 1.45, at Douglas Valley Church in Douglas,
there will be a special service with the Moderator recognising the transition of the Parish into Guardianship.
All are welcome to attend this Presbytery service.

Centenary Poppies Project: 
The Centenary poppies are now available for purchase via donation [min. £1]
All monies raised will be given to both Help for Heroes and Poppy Scotland.
They can be found in the vestibule.

Minister’s time off this week: Tuesday

Food for the journey: spiritual nourishment for the rest of the week...

In the last of the letters in the Book of Revelation 3:20 Jesus knocks on a door, saying:
Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. 
If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, 
I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.
Over the week, write down some of your favourite bible verses, or words
from scripture that are important to you or have helped you.
Simply attach them to a door as a reminder of what you have let into your life
and how it brings you life.

Sunday worship: 'Who's that knockin' at the door?'

As it's a 4th Sunday of the month, there were two services of worship today:
10.30am at the parish church in Abington where we picked up a little on the letters to the churches in Revelation, and thought about the one who stands at the door and knocks...
and 6.30pm at Leadhills Village Hall, where we were thinking about Margaret of Scotland in our series on 'heroes of the faith' and we also did a little reflecting on 'All Saints' and Halloween.

During our worship this morning, it was a delight
to welcome Dee Yates to the eldership and to become a part of our Kirk Session. A very cheery celebration over morning tea involved cake and copious scones...!

Readings for this morning:
Rev 3:1-22 and Colossians 1:15-23

Sermon: ‘Who’s that knocking on the door?’ 
Let’s pray: May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts
be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

In the midst of a green, growing forest, in a small clearing, stood a cottage.
There were wooden shingles on the roof, and the walls had been made of logs –
those that had been knocked down to create the clearing originally.
It was not a ramshackle affair –
rather, there were signs that it had been relatively well cared for.
The clearing itself seemed orderly and there was a well-tended veggie patch just by the water tank.

The cottage was a good way off the beaten track –
so far off, that it was almost a little too easy to get lost if you didn’t keep a close eye out
for the occasional marker on a tree or river bend.
Apart from the noises of the bush –
the scuttling of smaller beasts in the undergrowth,
the occasional crashing of the bigger beasts through the trees,
the song of birds and chirrup of insects,
it was a quiet, almost forgotten place.
Very few ever journeyed to the cottage:
it was a tricky, dangerous business with twists and turns,
and sudden drops where the land fell away into steep water-carved gorges.
A visitor needed to have their wits about them to get there and back in one piece.

The three who lived in the cottage had been sent there many years before by their Master,
there, they were asked to remain, and keep a watch upon the cottage and surrounds until he returned.
Each was very different to the other, but what bound them together was their Master,
and his request and, over time, the bonds of friendship
to each other as they lived and worked alongside one another.
Over the years, together and individually, each worked away at their task...
and each interpreted the instructions of the Master a little differently.
Manny decided that what his Master meant by 'watch' was try not to fall asleep –
to stay awake the whole time the Master was away...
sometimes, though, he did fall asleep due to tiredness.
Each time he woke from sleep, he felt a little more discouraged.
He began to wonder if the Master was ever coming back.
It seemed a long time, this waiting.

Maurie decided that he could do the job if he kept the place tidy:
he’d sweep and dust inside the cottage,
and clear away any creeping undergrowth that was making its way
too closely to the perimeter of the cottage.
It was wearying work;
it took most of his strength, but, nevertheless, he remained faithful to the task.
Sometimes, though, he was so absorbed in looking for the slightest speck of dust,
or signs of weed encroachment,
that he’d forget to look beyond the perimeter to keep an eye out for his Master’s return.

Millie could never quite make her mind up what the task actually was –
how active or passive it was.
Some days, she’d do nothing.
Other days, she’d have a sudden burst of energy.
Often, she’d think of what lay beyond the cottage and its bounds...
until, curious, she began to wander off to see what she might find.
Over time, she would ranger further and further from the cottage, searching for treasures in the bush.
Some days, she’d come home,
carrying a great load of bananas over her back,
or beautifully patterned wood,
or flasks of the purest tasting water in the world...
and, while she’d share with Manny and Maurie,
it always seemed she kept the lion’s share for herself...
Often, looking for treasure replaced keeping watch for her Master.

It had been many a year since the Master had placed them at the cottage.
Sometimes, they would struggle to remember
what the Master was like:
how his voice sounded,
what he looked like.
They knew there was a reason why they had been put there by the Master,
but sometimes, it was hard to remember.
Over the long years, the few visitors who would come to see them gradually stopped.
The door of the cottage remained quiet...
until one day, there came the sound of a gentle knock on wood.
Manny, Maurie, and Millie, busy eating their dinner stopped dead and looked at one another.
‘Who’s that knocking on the door?’ they all wondered.
They sat, looking at one another, not quite knowing what to do.
The knock came again, a little more loudly.
Still they looked at each other.
Another knock, more insistent.
Coming to from their surprise, Manny went to the door...
‘Who’s that knocking on the door?’
And from the other side came the reply:
‘A friend.’
A puzzled silence from inside the cottage and then:
‘But, well... we don’t really have any friends.’
‘Open the door, and you’ll see one,’ came the voice from outside.

The three inside the cottage looked at one another:
this was rather disconcerting.
What to do?
Another gentle tap at the door.
‘Hello?’
From inside, there were mutters...
and then the sound of the door latch slowly, ever so slowly being pulled.
The door opened, ever so slightly –
just enough for an inquisitive eyeball to look out at the visitor.
The eyeball looked up and then travelled down
the whole length of the person waiting patiently outside.
‘Bear with me,’ came the voice that belonged to the eyeball’s owner.
The door shut once more.
Manny – the owner of the eyeball – walked back to the table.
‘Doesn’t look familiar. Looks a wee bit unkempt, truth be told. 
Clothes are all raggedy and torn. Tho’ I don’t know if my eye was playing tricks, 
but I thought I caught a glint of gold underneath the coat.’
Millie twitched a little at the word 'gold'.
Maurie sighed.
‘I wonder what the Master would do?’
Another knock on the door and the visitor calling out:
‘Can I come in, please? It’s a teeny bit chilly out here now that it’s getting dark.’
From inside the cottage, the sound of a chair being pulled back, and then,
footsteps could be heard... padding across to the door.
‘Who’s that knocking on the door?’ 
This time, it was Maurie by the door.
And from the other side came the patient reply:
‘A friend. May I come in?’
From inside, there was the sound of a hand on the latch, a brief pause, and then...

Well, ...
how does the story end?
Who is this strange visitor?
Is he, indeed, a friend?
There’s only one way to find out –
the door that has been knocked on needs to be opened for all to be revealed.

In our reading from Revelation, we hear of letters to the other three churches –
Sardis, Philadelphia, and Laodicea.
Again, as with the four letters from last week, these are meant as letters of encouragement;
and part of that is also noting where each could improve where needed.
All however, are known and loved by God –
watched over and cared for...
given a task to watch and prepare for the coming of God’s kingdom of heaven on earth.
Each, working out how that might be done,
each, doing some things wonderfully,
each, making the occasional mistake.
Each congregation trying to work out just how to follow Jesus, the Master, on the journey of faith.
Occasionally, there have been obstacles, or distractions, even falling asleep on the watch,
but in each case, while sometimes it’s not gone well,
it’s not all been bad either –
and in each letter, Jesus shows the different congregations a way forward in the faith,
and, encourages them to continue:
‘go on, I know you can do it,’  he almost seems to say.
But they can’t ‘go on’ without him –
they can’t make the journey of faith without Jesus.
And so, we have, as we hear the letter to Laodicea, an image of a door
and Jesus knocking on the door saying:
‘Here I am! I stand at the door and knock!
If anyone hears my voice
and opens the door, 
I will go in and eat with them,
and they with me.’
Will the Laodiceans open the door and let Jesus in?
But who is this Jesus?
Who is it that knocks on the door of the church at Laodicea,
or, for that matter, the church here at Upper Clyde,
or even, at the door of each one of our hearts?

We get a glimpse in our reading from Colossians:
he is the image of the invisible God –
to see Jesus, is to look upon the face of God.
We are shown the might and power of the One who is God become human –
who used his power to become one of us...
underneath the rags of his humanity,
you see the gold of his divinity and majesty.
He is the one who spoke the world into being with the Father;
the One who holds all things together;
the One who is Head of the body –
the body that is us...
his followers,
the church.
He is the great reconciler,
the life-giver who gave himself for us;
the peace-maker who breaks down the divisions between God and humanity...
restoring us,
healing us,
making us whole;
he is the One who is seated in glory and majesty at God’s right hand,
and the One who calls us his friends...
the One who stands at the door
and knocks at the door of each one of our hearts and says:
‘Here I am!’
Only ever wanting to be let into our lives –
to show us how to live fully,
and in that living,
to point the way to him for others.
The journey of faith is different for each one of us
but, every day,
Jesus stands at the door and knocks.
And every day, we make the choice:
do we keep the door closed,
or do we open the door
and let him into our lives...
and, in doing so,
be part of his body on earth, bringing in his kingdom?
Amen.

News and events: wk beg Mon 21 Oct

News and upcoming events:

Sun 27 Oct., 10.30am: Morning worship in Upper Clyde Church. During our time of worship, we will be ordaining Dee Yates to the Eldership, and welcoming her onto the Kirk Session of Upper Clyde Parish.
And, at 6.30pm: Evening worship will be held in Leadhills Village Hall. We'll be reflecting on the life of Margaret of Scotland, a champion of the faith. Join us for this shorter, more informal time of worship. Refreshments served after the service and all are welcome
Today is also the...
DEADLINE for our Parish Magazine. Don't miss the deadline for any articles for the upcoming Advent/Christmas edition of  our magazine. If you have anything to submit, Dee or Nikki would be pleased to hear from you.

Thurs 31 Oct.: Moderator’s visit to Upper Clyde Parish. The Rt Rev. Colin Sinclair will be visiting Lanark Presbytery during the week. As part of his time in the Presbytery, he will pay a quick visit to Upper Clyde and be shown around the parish. During this time he will attend a school assembly in Leadhills, Scotland’s highest Primary school, as well as pay a visit to the church in Abington. You are invited to come and meet the Moderator at the church over a cuppa at approx. 2.30pm and share your stories about the opportunities and challenges within a rural parish.

Sun 2 Nov., 10.30am: morning worship in Upper Clyde Church. During worship this morning
we'll be welcoming Gregor Drife into God's family through the Sacrament of Baptism.

HARVEST THANKSGIVING SERVICE: Huge thanks to everyone who helped with our Harvest Thanksgiving service last week: to those involved in decorating the church with flowers and bees and all manner of Harvest-related items; to those who brought along items for the Foodbank; to our team of folk who prepared and cleared away our Harvest lunch; for those who helped to dismantle the decorations, and deliver the Foodbank items; and all who donated to the work of Send a Cow...
What a fabulous congregational effort and a great way to give thanks to God for the Harvest, and for his faithfulness. Well done, everyone. There are some pictures up on the blog in last week's worship entry.

Centenary Poppies Project: The Centenary poppies are now available for purchase via donation [min. £1] All monies raised will be given to both Help for Heroes and Poppy Scotland. They can be found in the vestibule.

Minister’s time off this week: Nikki is nabbing two days off this week, on Tuesday and Wednesday

Sunday am worship - 'A letter to my friends'

Over the next couple of weeks, we'll be hearing what the Spirit says to the churches, in the Book of Revelation...

READINGS: 1 John 4:1-6 and Rev. 2:1-29

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

Some of you may be familiar with an old song from 1963 which takes the form of a letter
written by a son away at summer camp to his long-suffering parents.
It goes a little like this – and put your hand up if you’ve heard it before...
Hello Muddah, hello Faddah
Here I am at Camp Grenada
Camp is very entertaining
And they say we'll have some fun if it stops raining.

The letter goes along, reeling off a string of incidents and difficulties ranging from
a hiking trip where a friend gets into a fankle with some poison ivy,
through to another boy who ends up with food poisoning.
The lake – allegedly – has alligators,
a cabin mate has malaria,
another lad has gone missing and a search party has been sent off.
Disaster after disaster unfolds in the letter.
Having written a great litany of woe, the young letter writer pleads in another verse:
Take me home, oh Muddah, Faddah
Take me home, I hate Grenada
Don't leave me out in the forest where
I might get eaten by a bear.

All of these events, we discover, have happened over the course of ...
one whole day:
the overall message of the letter is one of misery and woe, discouragement and despair –
the boy... just really, really, really wants to come home.

But suddenly, in the very last verse, there’s a complete change around:
Wait a minute, it's stopped hailing
Guys are swimming, guys are sailing
Playing baseball, gee that's bettah
Muddah, Faddah kindly disregard this letter.
By the end of the letter, all is well and one can only hope the parents
are breathing a sigh of relief and feeling encouraged that the laddie
will probably manage the whole week away after all.

Letters come in many forms, and are written for a variety of reasons:
from ancient Babylonian shopping lists in cunieform on clay tablets –
‘please tell Akkad to send me a bottle of his fine, red wine, and a jar of his fattest olives’,
to messages of congratulations, or sympathy, letters written while on holidays –
hopefully happier than those taken at Camp Granada –
or letters applying for a job, or school...
Formal letters, letters to family and friends.
Of letters to family, my dad showed me a letter I’d written to him when I was 9
about to turn 10, that he’d kept. A birthday was on its way,
and the letter’s purpose was very clear –
alongside lots of pretty doodles of someone playing tennis,
presumably me, were the words:
‘I’d really, really like a tennis racquet’ 
the letter ended in many x’s for kisses and a few o’s for hugs, thrown in for good measure.
I hope I’m a little less mercenary these days.

In the New Testament, alongside the four Gospels, we’ve many letters:
a lot written by the Apostle Paul, some by Peter, some by John,
and, in the very last book of the Bible, near to the beginning of John’s vision in Revelation,
there are seven letters written to seven churches...
as opposed to seven brides for seven brothers -
that’s a whole different thing entirely.
This morning and next Sunday, we’re going to have a quick look at these letters.
Today, we heard the letters written to the first four of the churches:
the churches in Ephesus, Smyrna, Pergamum, and Thyatira.
if you were to try and find them on a map, they’d be located in what’s now modern Turkey.

John, the writer of these letters, might possibly be the Apostle John.
What we know is that this John lives in exile on the Isle of Patmos,
that he’s a prophet,
that he’s got a good working knowledge of the wider church scene,
that he’s an important enough person to have had his words preserved
and placed within the canon of scripture.
He writes this in the latter part of the 1st Century,
and while the Book of Revelation can come across as quite strange in the language it uses,
the primary purpose of the Book, and each of these seven letters,
is to act as an encouragement to these new, fledgling churches,
living in a time of change,
living in challenging times.
Right at the beginning of Revelation, John writes:
‘Blessed is the one who reads aloud 
the words of this prophecy, 
and blessed are those who hear it 
and take to heart what is written in it, 
because the time is near.’
The Book, and these letters, are meant to serve as a blessing.

As is the case with most letters there’s a structure.
Each letter is addressed to the ‘angel’ of that particular church,
and then each has a brief note of who is writing:
Jesus, variously described as -
‘the one who holds the seven stars in his right hand’;
‘the First and the Last’;
‘the one who ‘has the sharp, double-edged sword’;
and ‘the Son of God, whose eyes are like blazing fire...’
Each moves on to demonstrate that God has been with them,
has been watching over them – for each letter says
‘I know...’
followed by a comment on the different things that each of the churches
has done, or has been facing.
In Ephesus,
God offers encouragement by assuring them that
He knows their deeds, and their hard work.
In Smyrna,
God offers encouragement by assuring them that
He knows of their poverty and their afflictions – yet even so, they are rich:
a reference to the strength of their faith.
To those in Pergamum,
God reassures them, by acknowledging that
where they live is a place that is particularly challenging,
and that he is impressed that despite the difficulties, they remain true.
And, in Thyatira,
God encourages them by assuring them that
He knows of their deeds, of their love and faith, and of their service –
and that since the beginning of their faith journey, this has been increasing:
they haven’t stood still.

So, each of the churches are shown that God knows
their individual circumstances and challenges,
that God is pleased with their efforts –
that God commends them for what they’ve been doing...
letters of encouragement, as I said.
As each letter moves on, there’s a pause to take stock on where they might improve.
And then, the letters end with encouragement once more:
they are known by God,
they are loved by God,
that God stands with them in the struggle,
and that, in the end, with God on their side they will overcome the difficulties and challenges.
Overall, then, the format in brief is a little like this:
Dear church –
it’s me, Jesus,
I know you’re amazing:
you’ve been doing some great things
and I’m so proud of you.
I did notice one thing and it would be great 
if you worked on that a little more...
however, we’re in this together,
so hang in there with me,
and you’ll get through to the end,
I believe in you and know you can do it.
Lots of love...

I wonder...
if on any given Sunday that we were gathered here, what might happen
if a letter suddenly materialised through the rafters –
a lost letter from John, writing the message that Jesus has for us, his church at Upper Clyde?
Like the four churches that we’ve had the quickest of looks at,
we have our particular circumstances and our particular challenges.
Like the four churches – like any church, anywhere,
we have a strong hunch about what we don’t have, and what we can’t do...
our failings, if you like.
It’s often too easy to concentrate on those, right?
But think again of how the letters to the churches in Revelation are structured:
there’s balance, and an aim to encourage.
Jesus, through the quill in John’s hand, says to his churches:
‘I know who you are,
I know what you have,
I know what you can do.’
Each letter is aimed to build up the church.
So I wonder about Upper Clyde, about this particular community of faith...
might a letter to us sound a little like this:
[open envelope, read from letter enclosed]
Dear Upper Clyde,
these are the words of the Good Shepherd, who tends you and cares for you;
I know you could use a little encouragement.
I know your deeds, your faith, your quiet acts of kindness, your sense of community spirit
and how you try to look out for each other, and your neighbours
despite being so scattered over such a large area.
In the face of challenges, 
such as the drift away from the faith
and the building feeling a little emptier than it used to years ago,
nevertheless, you pitch in as you can, together,
feeding the hungry, fundraising for charity,
having celebrations and socials,
popping in on those who are ill and who are isolated.
Although you may not realise it, you are living out the message of the Gospel.
There is the matter of trying to look for different ways 
to touch the hearts of all within your wider community –
it’s good to respect tradition and remember what’s gone before,
but don’t be afraid to try and embrace the new 
and look to the present and the future – they can be good as well.
I know that change can be hard, but I also know that you have already weathered many changes
and that you are more resilient than you think you are.
I also know that sometimes you focus too much on what you lack 
but you are richer than you think.
While times might feel challenging I know you can rise to the challenge:
I know you can do this, so, don’t lose heart,
keep listening out for me, and keep going –
you may surprise yourselves at just what you can do, and of all that you do have.
Remember, you’re not alone,
I’m with you, your Shepherd, leading you to new pastures
where there will be refreshing streams for your souls.
Sent with love...

And what of our own, individual lives of faith?
I wonder if each one of us received a wee note – what might it have to say to us?
What words of encouragement might there be for each one of us?
How might Jesus be encouraging you?
What are those gifts, skills, things about you that Jesus thinks are good –
because there will be something:
we each of us have something for each of us is the product of a creative, imaginative God.
Imagine, over this week - this is your homework -
a letter in which Jesus is saying encouraging things about you:
what are they?
Name them.
It’s easier naming the not so good things about ourselves –
we can spend a lot of time doing that, so, in the interests of balance, don’t do that this week!
Instead, think about what Jesus, the Shepherd of your soul,
think about you – all the positive things.

There’s much in our letters to the churches in the Book of Revelation –
and at the end, each one closes with a positive affirmation:
you can overcome the challenges –
and, as in the words from our other reading this morning, in 1 John 4: 4 we overcome because
‘the One who is in us is greater than the one who is in the world.’
Beloved of God, how then do we live our lives?
Like the words of the hymn say:
Look forward in faith, 
God gives us life each day. 
Go onward with Christ, 
His Spirit guides our way. 
Now God lets us live 
Within the sphere of grace. 
Trust ever in him, 
He rules o’er earth and space.
Amen.

[we then sang 'Look forward in faith']

Harvest Sunday - morning worship

As folk walked into worship this morning, they had to contend with swarms of bees...
Fabulously crafted by the children of the 5 Primary schools in our parish. Massive thanks to the staff and students of Leadhills, Crawford, Abington, Lamington, and Wiston schools for such creative, beautiful and fabulous Harvest decorations.
But why bees?
During the week at our Harvest assemblies we'd been thinking about how important bees are, why they're disappearing, how we can be more bee-friendly... and thinking about the work of the Send a Cow charity, who not only wrangle cattle...
We had fun 'harvesting' words from the word 'harvest' and among other words, discovered the words 'starve' and 'share'.
We wondered about harvest time as useful time of year to remember to be thankful for all we have - not to take things for granted, and about sharing with others who might not have as much as we do.
Some of our schools also brought along food for our local foodbank - so some very thoughtful discussions and actions this week in our schools.

Alongside the fabulous bees, the church was stunningly decorated by our crack team of brilliant volunteers on Saturday afternoon.
of The windows were filled to bursting with flowers and produce, as was the Sanctuary space.
And after worship, we had a simple Harvest lunch ...
so a massive thank you to everyone who helped organise our special Harvest Festival day.
Also, a very good number of food donations for the local foodbank arrived.
What a brilliant group effort.

As to our Harvest service this morning, these were our readings:
Ps 100; Deut 26:1-11; Phil. 4:4-9

There were a couple of reflections...
‘A flavour of harvest’ - featuring Bertie Bott's all-flavour beans...
and
'Send a Cow... or maybe a bee' - a wee recap on the work of one of our favourite charities

The sermon this morning was a story about a young monk called Thomas...
SERMON/ ‘Surprising gifts’
Let’s pray: May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts,
be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.

Once upon a time, many hundreds of years ago –
even before I was born...
there lived a young man called Thomas.
Thomas had grown up on a farm, with 9 brothers and 2 sisters.
While there was always plenty of work to do on the farm,
and while he loved helping out, Thomas realised, at a young age,
that he wanted to join a religious order:
he wanted to become a monk.
The family were very pleased, although pretty surprised,
because young Thom didn’t seem to be a very serious-minded kind of chap – he was full of the joys of life:
always getting into silly scrapes,
always telling terrible jokes at dinner,
and always managing to make his family laugh.
Wherever he went, whatever he did, he’d sing.

The more Thomas’ parents thought about him going to a monastery, the more they thought it would be a good thing:
perhaps he’d settle down a little?
They knew he would learn to read,
and they knew he would pray for them...
and, truth be told, with such a big family, well, it was one less mouth to feed.

On the day young Thomas set off to go to the monastery in the town a good day and half's’ walk away,
the family packed a sack of food for his journey,
gave him an extra sack of grain as a gift for the monastery,
gave him many hugs and kisses,
and then waved him on his way.
Thomas was excited and cheerful.
As he walked, he felt the warmth of the sun on his head,
he heard the songs of birds in the trees and high up in the sky,
he thirstily drank from the cool, clear stream that followed the road to town,
his eyes danced with all the spring colours of the countryside around him...
and he thought of a whole bunch of new jokes he could share with the monks.
As he walked he was full of joy and gave thanks to God.
The miles seemed to disappear very quickly
and having slept under a sky full of shining stars,
he arrived at the town the following afternoon,
introduced himself,
and was let into the monastery.

The Abbot welcomed him
and Thomas was put to work here and there,
doing all sorts of odd jobs.
He’d sweep and clear the stables;
he’d help do the monastery washing;
he’d chop wood for the kitchen fire;
and cheerfully do the dishes.
And as he worked, so he would sing –
a happy, cheerful song of thanks to God.
When working alongside other monks he’d tell them jokes,
and there’d be shared laughter, and the work went faster.
Thomas felt that he was in the right place.

One day, taking a wee break,
Thomas was sitting on a bench by the monastery kitchen garden.
Some of the children from the town had become friendly with Thomas,
and they'd come to the monastery to see him.
They sat in the sunshine singing a song that Thomas had taught them.
When the song was done,
Thomas told them some new jokes, and the air filled with laughter.

The Abbot had stopped, unseen by them,
and he watched from a wee distance, then nodded to himself.
But it was time for Thomas to get back to work,
and so the Abbot came across and sent the children away home with a blessing.
He asked how young Thom was getting on
and Thomas told him how happy he was.
All was well.
The Abbot left him to his work.

The months passed, as did both spring and then summer.
Autumn had arrived, and with it,
talk of the great Harvest Thanksgiving festival at which,
each of the monks would give thanks to God and offer a gift.
Brother Francis trained pigeons to carry messages, so he would offer a set of fine pigeons;
Brother Jerome looked after the garden:
he would offer a basket of his prize-winning leeks;
Brother John was a baker – he would bake bread for the feast;
Brother Peter was a calligrapher in the scriptorium:
he planned to give a decorated page with Ps 100 written on it in his beautiful handwriting –
‘God’s word says to rejoice, and so my hands rejoice to write God’s word’ said Peter.
All of the monks had wonderful gifts to give.
Thomas, however, had no clue at all what to give.
He felt he had no particular gift that he could offer.
While all the other monks became more excited,
as the days drew nearer to the feast, Brother Thomas grew sad, very sad indeed.
As the days passed, he grew quieter.
There were no more jokes, and he did his tasks in silence, not with song.

At last the great day arrived...
and young Brother Thomas was thoroughly miserable.
All the others had wonderful gifts to offer to God:
he had nothing.
The service began and all the monks joyfully lined up to process into the huge church,
each bearing the gift they were to offer to God.
All except Brother Thomas, who, as the youngest and newest monk, would be first.
He walked in, with empty hands, and tearful face
until he reached the stairs to the communion table, where the Abbot stood waiting.
A hush filled the crowded church,
as everyone realised that Thom had nothing to offer.
‘Thomas, what is the gift you offer to God?’ asked the Abbot kindly...
‘Sir, I have no gifts at all, and I am so very sad – 
for God has given us so much, God has watered the crops 
and by his goodness, we have food for the feast.
...I am not worthy to be a monk.'
The Abbot looked at tearful Thomas and with a smile said:
‘Thomas, each of the brothers offer something to God that is special to them –
a God-given gift that only they have.
...Thomas, ever since you’ve been with us, you have given us the gift of laughter 
and lightened the burden of our work with your jokes and stories...
you have given us the gift of music
and lightened our hearts with your songs of rejoicing.
That is what you can offer to God.’

Thomas looked at the Abbot, puzzled, and then hope crept into his heart.
He nodded and a shy smile appeared on his face.
‘Lord, I offer you my sense of humour, and these silly, silly jokes...
accept them with my love.’
And then he turned to the congregation with a grin:
‘I am from a farm, so I give you these –
you may groan, or you may laugh, but take them and enjoy:
Why did the cow cross the road? 
...To get to the udder side! 
Why did the rooster cross the road? 
...To prove it wasn't chicken! 
Why did the horse cross the road? 
...To visit his neighbourhood! 
Why did the farmer cross the road? 
...To get all of his animals back!’
The congregation groaned, very loudly indeed,
and then, laughter began rippling through the building –
it was silly, simple fun –
God-given fun...
And, if God had made the world then surely, God must have made laughter.
And as they all laughed, Thomas began to sing a simple song of praise:
‘Rejoice in the Lord, always, and again I say rejoice...’
and as he sang, other voices joined in the song –
it was the song he had taught the children,
and their wee high voices could be heard in the laughter...
and the monks began singing –
for it was one of the songs that Thomas would sing as he did chores with them...
and as it was a simple song, so the whole congregation joined in the song of rejoicing.
And so it was, on that day, the day of the great Harvest Thanksgiving,
in the midst of laughter and joy-filled singing,
Thomas learned the greatest lesson of all:
that each one of us is worthy in God’s eyes;
that each one of us is special;
that each one of us has particular gifts and skills;
and that each one of us has something to offer:
to God
and to our neighbour...
And that, friends, is definitely something to give thanks for. Amen.

HARVEST FESTIVAL

COME AND CELEBRATE HARVEST WITH US...

... and after worship, why not stay for a simple Harvest soup lunch and a cuppa?

News and events: wk beg Mon 7 Oct

A busy time of year!!

Wed 9 Oct, 2pm: The Guild meets in the Church hall this week.
The guest speaker this month is Isobel Montgomery.

Thurs 10 Oct, 7pm: ‘Wordworks’ writing group meets by the fireside at the Colebrooke Arms.
All welcome to come along: bring something you’ve written/are working on,
or share a piece of from a favourite writer.

Sat 12 Oct, 2-4pm: Harvest decorating.
Just to flag up that our Harvest Festival service upon us.
The church will be open on Sat 12th between 2-4pm for window decorating
and for any Harvest display/ products to be dropped off.

Sun 13 Oct, 10.30am: HARVEST FESTIVAL

An all-age service celebrating and giving thanks for the harvest.

Once again, via an extra offering plate in the vestibule, we'll be supporting the work of
'Send a Cow' - a UK-based charity set up by farmers to help farmers in the countries of:
Burundi, Ethiopia, Kenya,  Rwanda, Uganda, and Zambia.
Over the last couple of years, we've been joined by a herd of cows, and a flock of goats...
see what the buzz will be this year from our 5 local Primary schools...!

Parish Magazine:
It’s coming up to that time of year when we begin to turn our minds to preparing the parish
Advent /Christmas magazine.
Do you have a particular Christmas memory you’d like to share, or Christmas poem, or carol?
Why not tell us what makes it special – why it’s your favourite.
There are many ways of making a contribution:
written pieces, drawings, sharing a selection of seasonal jokes.
If you have anything, Dee would be pleased to see you. Deadline: 27th of October.

Centenary Poppies Project:
thanks to all who volunteered to detach the poppies from our Centenary display from last year.
The Centenary poppies are now available for purchase via donation [min. £1]
All monies raised will be given to both Help for Heroes and Poppy Scotland.
Poppies knitted and crocheted of various sizes can be found in the vestibule along with the
donations box.

EDICT: re. ADMITTANCE TO ELDERSHIP:
By resolution of the Kirk Session, Dee Yates, member of this congregation,
has been invited to accept the office of ruling elder; Dee has accepted this invitation
of office as elder: if anyone has any objections why this member should not be ordained
to office, they may state their objection at a special meeting of the Kirk Session
in the church on 20th of October, 2019 at 11.40 – after morning worship;
if no relevant objection regarding life or doctrine is made and substantiated,
the Kirk Session will proceed to the ordination and admission on
Sunday, 27th of October during morning worship.

Sunday am worship: Majoring on the Minors: wk8 'Prepare the way' - Malachi

The last in our 8 week series on the Minor Prophets - we finish with Malachi encouraging us to prepare the way of the Lord

READINGS/ Malachi - all the way through...

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

A good few years ago now, a minister pal of mine
gave me a wee birthday minding –
a very silly key ring.
On it were the words:
‘Jesus is coming: quick, look busy!’
Our friend, Malachi, is very concerned that God’s people don’t get caught
out by the coming of the Lord. In effect, his message is all about getting ready:
be like the Boy Scouts, and be prepared.

So, the setting for Malachi:
We find that the Persians are still the big boys on the block –
remember them from last week?
They’re the ones who allowed the captive Israelites to go home,
after having been exiled by the previous power players, the Babylonians.
The exiles – well, really, mostly their descendants –
go home and start to restore their broken city
and rebuild their broken lives.
After a couple of years, with the encouragement of the prophets Haggai and Zechariah,
work begins on rebuilding the great temple in Jerusalem.
Years pass.
About 45 years.
And it’s at this point where we meet Malachi.
There’s been a good lot of work done in those years and the temple has been rebuilt.
Although it might not be quite as grand as it was when finished by Solomon,
the priests have returned to their rituals,
the people are back,
worship is happening.
All is good in the ‘hood...
or, maybe not quite.
You see, there’s some muttering from the people,
which is picked up by Malachi.

What’s the buzz?
It’s that God’s people are getting a little bit ‘antsy’ –
a wee bit impatient for God to crack on and do something.
They remember – or have heard the stories of Haggai and Zechariah:
how they encouraged the people to get on with building the temple;
and how that encouragement was in the form of promises about what God would do –
so many blessings would come their way.
Well, time’s marched on a-pace, and they’re not exactly seeing the return
on the dividend of all the hard work that they’d put in.
God had promised that they’d be famous – exalted among the nations.
And here they were, hardly that,
just a tiny backwater living under the rule of the mighty Persians –
hardly seen,
hardly relevant...
they’d hardly make the grade to be ‘D’ list celebrities
let alone be exalted by other nations.

They challenge God,
they ask questions:
‘You don’t love us any more, do you God?’
‘Have you given up on us, God?’
‘If you love us, show us!’
Perhaps they were getting a little bit ‘pouty’
‘It’s soooo unfair!’
And maybe, just maybe, they were getting a little bit rebellious:
‘Bother this for a game of soldiers, I’m off to find another god!’...
I think we can throw in a little bit of a dramatic flounce
as they walk off in a huff with God.

Malachi is listening this – to all the chat around the city:
in the bazaars,
by the watering places,
around the temple...
all of the whispers,
the mutters,
the voices of those feeling a little less than ‘gruntled’...
Perhaps too, underneath the snatches of conversation and complaint,
Malachi – whose name means ‘messenger’ –
is picking up what seems to be a loss of confidence:
‘Maybe we’re not so special to God, after all?’
‘Maybe God’s not listening?’
‘Maybe God’s got more important things to do?’
‘Maybe... God’s not interested in us anymore?’

All of this impacts upon their lives, and their relationships –
the relationship with God,
the relationship with neighbour.
Perhaps as they begin to feel dispirited they shrug their shoulders and think
‘Pfft, why bother?’
And so, when they do gather together as the people of God,
they don’t take as much care –
they get sloppy in the way they approach and worship God;
the sacrifices they offer are sloppy,
their worship practices are sloppy.
They turn up, they go through the motions...
occasionally wonder if they’ve chopped enough wood to cook
the Saturday roast when they get home,
or think about the in-laws coming over for a get-together
over wine and olives in the evening
and wonder if there’s enough olives to go around.
They’re not fully present in worship.
Or, they’ll get a wee bit annoyed about something in worship
and focus on it so much that they forget about the rest of the temple service:
they’re cross at having to learn a new psalm,
or put out that they have to thole the same old ones;
they perhaps wonder why things have to change
or why they seem to always stay the same.
So they sit there, in the temple, thinking about all sorts of things, mumbling that
‘they’re not really getting much out of this’
and somewhere, waaaay in the background, is God,
the One they’ve come to worship,
but have been a little too preoccupied with other things to properly stop and engage with.

They’re sloppy elsewhere in their relationships:
there’s God,
and then there’s their neighbour.
They can’t seem see the point of loving God and it has a knock on effect:
they can’t seem to see the point of loving their neighbour.
Maybe their reasoning goes along these lines:
If you do all of this stuff for God
and if you feel that God has let you down,
well, heck, why bother with your neighbour?
God is at least supposed to perfect,
but humans aren’t –
you’re always guaranteed to be let down by people.
And so neighbourly relationships get sloppy:
all those wee things they do everyday to keep the wheels of community
running smoothly begin to get dropped –
the motto quietly being adopted by God’s people is:
‘just look after yourself.’

So, in response to the muttering,
to their challenges about God perhaps not loving them,
of God perhaps not listening to them,
God, through his prophet Malachi, throws the question back at them –
after first saying – in chapter 1 verse 2:
‘I have loved you...’
and to their challenge of ‘how’,
God responds again:
showing them by a reference to Jacob and Esau,
that God has indeed chosen them –
that they are special.
God’s saying to them:
‘I think you’re special, I’m just not so sure you think I am,’
and uses their less than focused approach to worship,
and to their relationships with their neighbours as an example.
God uses Malachi to challenge the people back.
In the face of their questions they are asked:
‘Just how serious are you about God,’
and
‘are you really ready for the coming of the Lord?’

Malachi tells them to prepare –
to do an inventory, take stock of their lives.
For while the coming of the Lord will mean great and wonderful things,
it also means that, to get there involves a process – a refining process.
Just like a fire burns off all the dross,
or a clears away all the undergrowth in a forest,
so God’s people need to prepare,
and undergo the equivalent of a spiritual MOT –
to peel away all the layers,
to get rid of the ‘this for that’ transactional view of God they’ve had,
and rather, to think of God as the One who wants them
to be their truest, most authentic selves,
the One who wants them to be the best that they can possibly be...
and as they do this,
it has a knock on effect:
a better focus upon relationships once more with God and with neighbour.
By undergoing the process of preparing,
getting rid of all the obstacles that get in the way of their relationship with God,
so the world will become a better place where blessings abound –
preparing brings with it focus upon what really matters.

That’s the message of Malachi:
prepare, do some spiritual spring cleaning,
lose the ‘what can I get out of worship’
and instead ask
‘what can I put into worship?’
Lose the ‘what can I get out of my neighbour?’
and instead ask
‘How is my neighbour doing?’
Having proclaimed that part of God’s message,
Malachi finishes with God’s promise once more:
restoration, new life.
For those who revere God’s name:
‘the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings.
And you will go out and leap like calves released from a stall.’
But there’s more:
just before the kingdom comes, there will be another messenger,
one who will cry out, like Elijah, proclaiming a message of repentance.

After Malachi, there is a 400 year silence.
And then, a voice, crying out in the desert:
it belongs to John the Baptist,
who Jesus calls the last and greatest of the prophets.
John echoes Malachi’s message, and proclaims:
‘prepare the way of the Lord, make straight paths for him’
It’s a message we hear in the season of the church we call ‘Advent’ –
the time of preparation as we make ready to welcome in the Christ-child
into our hearts and our homes once again.

The other point in the church year when we deliberately spend time
preparing, and clearing the path in our lives that lead us to God,
is the season of Lent:
a time when we go out into the wilderness,
a time where we remember and walk alongside Jesus
as he makes his way to Jerusalem...
entering its gates humbly upon a donkey to shouts of acclimation and waving of palms.
There he will weep over it,
there he will proclaim God’s message,
there he will share a final meal with his friends
and be betrayed,
and arrested
and killed.
But there, after 3 days,
he will rise again in a garden early in the morning,
for even death can not contain him.
Through his birth, his life, his death, and his resurrection,
God’s kingdom breaks into our world, just as the prophets proclaimed.

What’s holding us back from truly following God?
What are the obstacles in our lives that clutter and block the way?
What do we need to do – to change –
so that we not only hear God’s call to follow,
but are better able to do so?

Jesus is the sign God gives to us all –
a sign to show that:
God is still interested,
God is still listening,
that God still thinks we’re important,
important enough that he sent his Son
to show us, through his life
how all of us might set about the business of preparing the way –
of making our paths straight...
of being in a better relationship with God, and our neighbour.

The message on the key ring my friend gave me might better say:
‘Jesus is coming: prepare the way.’ ...

Amen

Taize: Sunday evening - Upper Clyde Church in Lamington Holy Trinity Chapel

Sunday morning worship: Majoring on the Minors, wk7 - Haggai & Zechariah

READINGS/
Haggai; Zechariah 1:1-6, 16-17; 8:1-12 and 9:9-10

SERMON/

‘Rebuilding your broken world’: 

Haggai and Zechariah, God’s encouragers

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

A friend and I have an ongoing joke. One of the things we like doing when we manage to grab time together is just hanging out:
you know - having a pizza, solving world peace, and then, seeing if there’s a movie on the telly
or some such. Inevitably one or the other of us will pick up the ‘doofer’ – or whatever you call it in your own home – and start flicking through the channels.

The problem is, we have quite different taste when it comes to movies.
Then it depends what mood we’re in:
do we really want to watch that important, yet very earnest and worthy film,
or do we want something lighter?
Can we cope with the bloodthirstiness of an action film,
or do we want something gentler?
Comedy?
Musical?
Eventually, all avenues are gone through and we turn to a tv programme
that tends to be on at any given time –
so the joke is, that when all else fails,
you can always depend on ‘Grand Designs’.
I confess to being a bit of a fan.
While there are a whole host of new home designs that are planned and built,
it’s the projects that deal with restoration that grab my attention:
from 16th century tithe barns,
Victorian life-boat sheds,
to underground water containers,
to ancient, crumbling small castles...
it’s amazing to see the imagination and ingenuity put into each of these
restoration and rebuilding projects.
And, while at the beginning of the project there’s a lot of rubble and debris,
and often various difficulties along the way,
for the most part, the end result is usually stunning.

Our readings this morning find us in Jerusalem in the year 520 BC...
Around 70 years before this, the Babylonians had
defeated the Southern Kingdom of Judah,
destroyed Jerusalem and the temple,
and taken away into captivity large numbers of the population:
the ruling elite, the professional classes, artists, musicians, and artisans.
All were taken to Babylon.
But Babylon eventually fell to the Persian Empire,
and, their leader, Cyrus the Great, released the captives –
or, at least, those who were by now mostly descended from the original captives.
Eventually they make their way back to Jerusalem...

I wonder what it would have felt like?
Initially, perhaps relief and joy:
they are no longer captives, but free.
Perhaps a sense of hopefulness:
they can go home –
although for most of them, the only home they’ve ever known
is the might and majesty of the largest city in the then-known world, Babylon.
Off they travel, back to the land of their fathers and mothers.
42 360 of them.
As mile upon dusty mile is travelled, what are their dreams, their expectations?
When they finally arrive, they have to watch how they go:
they find themselves walking through rubble and debris –
the signs of a conquering army and its destruction of the city all around them.
As they pick their way through the remains of the shattered city,
I wonder if any of it is familiar to those who were young when taken away,
and who, by now, are very elderly?

The great city is a ruin, although, in some places, those who were left behind,
and others who have moved into the area,
have made their homes among the wreckage.
They live there, just getting on with it.
They watch as the exiles return – resenting these new intruders.
There may be trouble.
As the exiles look around at the ruined city, and remember the grandeur of Babylon,
how many were thinking that they’d rather go back?
How many felt helpless and overwhelmed?
But things could change.
The ruins could be cleared.
It didn’t have to stay this way...
And so they begin:
they make shelters,
begin to lay the foundations for the temple.
At some point, however, what with hostile neighbours to contend with
and wanting to get themselves sorted, the plan to fix the temple comes to a halt.
Years pass.
And into the ruins of this once great city come Haggai and Zechariah.
They’ve got a word from God.

Haggai is the first prophet to minister to God’s people after their exile.
For a period of 16 weeks he proclaims God’s message.
Essentially it boils down to this:
‘okay, you’ve come back.
You’ve begun to settle.
You’ve made homes for yourselves,
begun to plant crops,
to tend vines,
to restore the olive groves.
You’ve sorted out the live-stock.
In fact, you’ve been so focused upon yourselves
that you’ve forgotten to look at the bigger picture.
Now you’ve got all these things,
you’re discovering that you’re not quite satisfied.
Life’s not just about meeting the physical needs:
you are my people...
that empty, niggling, unsatisfied part
is because you’ve forgotten the spiritual needs.
You’ve forgotten me in the midst of all of the other stuff.
You’re not going to feel whole, 
fully restored as a people,
until you put me into the picture.’

And so, God, through Haggai, calls upon the people to rebuild the temple:
a symbol of God’s presence with them.
The physical presence of the building acting as an encouragement to them –
reminding them of who they are and who they belong to.
They are the people who were chosen,
they were the people who God rescued from slavery,
they are people of the promise,
in relationship with the Maker of all things and the restorer of all.
God doesn’t need a house –
but God knows that the building will be a symbol of the relationship
between him and them.
Visible confirmation
that God is with them every step of the way,
that God is with them even in the broken, ruined places,
and that God will be there with them,
cheering them on,
loving them,
telling them how great they are,
and that, yes, they can do this...
that they will prosper again.

Zechariah, too, talks of restoration:
rebuilding the temple, and restoring the relationship between God and his people.
God says:
‘I care!’
‘I’m involved!’
‘I’m in this mess with you!’
The broken city will be rebuilt,
a broken people will be restored.
There’s lovely encouragement within the vision of Zechariah,
‘old men and old women will come back...
sit on benches on the streets, share stories,
move around safely with their canes.’
This, in the context of so much previous conflict, that many didn’t make it to old age.
But here we have the restored Jerusalem as
‘a good city to grow old in.’
It’s not just a good place for the elderly:
boys and girls will fill parks, will play and laugh...
the restored Jerusalem is shown as
‘a good city to grow up in.’
And more encouragement:
if the present situation looks overwhelming,
when you keep seeing all the many challenges and problems,
and you don’t have enough people,
and it’s all feeling just a wee bit too much...
God says:
‘Is anything too much for me?’
And the answer is ‘no.’
God will bless his people,
they and the city will be restored from out of the ruins.
All that has been broken will be healed, made whole...
And, in God’s right time,
he will raise up a new kind of king –
not a proud, war-like, arrogant king but one who is humble –
who rides the donkey, not the war-horse...
who will bring restoration and peace
not only to Jerusalem and her people,
but will restore wholeness and well-being and peace to the whole world.
God’s grand design goes beyond just a temple being restored:
we’re talking nothing less than everything.
The exiles listen to Haggai and to Zechariah:
the temple is rebuilt,
the worshipping life of the community can now more fully take place –
a symbol of the restored relationship between God and his people.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes, as I look around me,
it feels as if so many things are broken:
governments are in chaos; [c.f. scenes from HofC Tues evening: PM's statement]
the rule of law seems on shaky ground;
the gap between the rich and the poor is wider than it ever was;
general human decency and compassion seem to have taken a bit of a beating...
almost as if there’s an undercurrent willing us to tear everything down,
to tear one another apart.
A broken world...
where the basic foundations have crumbled.
That’s the wider situation.

And what of the Church?
I wonder, how many of us feel it’s broken?
Once there seemed to be a golden age:
pews were filled,
there were children and young people everywhere...
And all we can see now are empty spaces,
the wider church shrinking,
going into survival mode,
telling stories of the good old days,
or hunkering down with the thought:
‘as long as it sees me out’
and not quite prepared to make the radical changes needed
to see that it’s fit for purpose in these current days,
or to look ahead to the future.
Sometimes, it can feel like we’re standing in the ruins of the temple...

And then, how many of us just feel broken –
feeling as if our own life is in tatters,
feeling that we’re walking in our own ruins?
To this broken world,
to this broken church,
into our broken lives...
God says:
‘I care!’
‘I’m involved!’
‘I’m in this mess with you!’
Just as God reminded his exiled people in Jerusalem
that he loved them,
that he was with them,
and that they would be restored,
so God reminds his modern day followers that same message:
the God of the Ages is with us.
If we feel that the present situation looks overwhelming,
if we can only see the challenges and problems,
if it’s all feeling just a wee bit too much...
God says:
‘Is anything too much for me?’
And the answer is ‘no.’
God will bless his people:
the world,
the church,
each one of us...
will be restored from out of the ruins.
All that has been broken will be healed, made whole.
And, God has raised up that new king spoken of so long ago to the returned exiles:
that king rode a donkey into Jerusalem –
to shouts of acclamation and waving of palms.
The birth, the life, the death, and the resurrection of that king
meant restoration for us all,
and that, in him, we have become living stones –
a new kind of temple not made out of rock, but of flesh and blood;
God’s grand design created and made in love
and called to be a sign and symbol among the ruins -
of ongoing restoration,
of the building of God’s kingdom,
built upon the foundation of God’s love,
a place where the broken are mended, restored, and given new life.

As we look around at our world,
at the church
at our lives –
nothing is impossible for God to restore,
for we worship the God of the grand design
who, from out of brokenness, creates beauty.
It is that same God who calls us to be a community of restoration -
of rebuilding:
the world,
the church,
and broken hearts and lives.
God says:
‘I care!’
‘I’m involved!’
‘I’m in this mess with you!’
And calls us to care enough to get involved in the mess with him.
Without God, nothing is possible.
With God, nothing is impossible.
Our sign and symbol is Jesus.
And we do that great work he calls us to
in and through the power of God’s Spirit.
Walking with God, and with one another –
encouraged by each other –
we build a place where it is good to grow old,
and good to grow up:
where all feel safe,
where all can play,
where all are restored
for all live in the knowledge of the power
of God’s love. Amen.

Sunday morning worship: Majoring on the Minors - Habakkuk, the patient prophet

READING: Habakkuk 1, 2, and 3

A wee reflection as if from Habukkuk's point of view: 'Climbing';
a story - rewritten but keeping to the spirit of the one told by Saki: 'Falling';
and a sermon: 'Three questions'...
helped us to discover more about God's message through his prophet Habakkuk.

Here, below, the sermon

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

‘Are you listening?’
‘Will you save me?’
‘Will you deal with all this bad stuff?’

Three questions.
Age-old questions.
Questions that people of faith have asked God down through many a generation.
Questions that cut right to the heart of faith:
of the nature of God – the One in whom we place our faith;
of the nature of faith itself;
and, of how we live as people of faith.
These questions,
asked by Habakkuk the prophet toward the end of the 7th century
are questions still pertinent to us, sitting right here, and right now.

If we make time and space for them,
if we sit with them awhile,
if we wait on God and tune in and turn up our spiritual antennae,
the Minor Prophets –
these obscure books, generally neglected at the back of the Old Testament...
do have something to say to us still.
We just need a little patience
and patience is the key word
when it comes to unlocking the message of God through his prophet, Habakkuk.
Our man, Habakkuk, and his oracle,his prophetic message,
is a little different to the other chaps we’ve so far encountered.
In the main, all of the other prophets have proclaimed God’s message to an audience –
the kingdoms of the north and south: Israel and Judah.
Here, Habakkuk is doing something a little bit different.
Where our other prophets were preaching, Habakkuk’s a praying prophet:
what we’ve heard from him is a prayer –
a conversation with God,
a conversation where he asks God those big three questions.

You see, Habakkuk’s been looking around.
Like our other prophets
he’s seen the corruption and misuse of power;
he’s seen the nation rotting from within and without;
he’s seen the bad guys crushing the good guys way too many times...
And he’s upset.
He looks around and what he feels he doesn’t see
is God doing anything at all about it.

And so, right from the very beginning of his message, he wastes no time:
there’s no wee biographical introduction –
no ‘the son of whoever, who was the son of so and so,
during the time of the King What’s-his-name’.
Habakkuk gets immediately to the point:
‘How long, O Lord, must I call out for help, but you do not listen?’
...Are you listening?
‘Or cry out ‘Violence!’ but you do not save?’
...Will you save me?
And a little later on:
‘Why do you tolerate the treacherous..
Why are you silent while the wicked swallow up those more righteous than themselves?’
... ‘Will you deal with all this bad stuff?’
He is distressed.
His heart belongs to God,
his life’s aim is to follow in God’s ways,
his task is to point to God
so that the people of God continue in God’s ways....
Why?
Because in faith, Habakkuk understands that to follow in God’s ways,
to place your trust in God,
is to not only make your own private world
a better, more ordered, more content place,
but it makes the world itself a better place.
Fulness of life, a life worth living.
He is distressed
because people aren’t listening,
aren’t following in God’s ways,
and individual lives,
the life of the nation
and the life of the world
- it's all going from bad to worse.
He watches the mess people make of their lives and of the world around them
and begins to wonder:
if the people aren’t listening,
is God?
Because, it really doesn’t feel like it.
He is distressed –
he has some major issues with God:
‘Are you listening?’ he asks.
And having got that off his chest,
he takes a deep breath and takes up his post as God’s watchman:
a watcher on the wall looking out for signs of God,
even though he feels God is off having more fun elsewhere.
Habakkuk leans into his faith,
tries to get past this hopeless feeling,
and gets back to his job at hand...
Faith involves patience –
this is what we learn from Habakkuk.

What we also learn is that,
even though it may feel that God is not listening,
or that God is not at work in the world,
God’s own nature –
as the One who loves the world –
is why God can’t do anything else
BUT listen,
but be involved and active.
But you need to look at the world through the lens of faith.

Habakkuk is distressed.
Habakkuk is frustrated.
Habakkuk throws out the questions:
‘Are you listening?’
‘Will you save me – the nation – the world?’
‘Will you sort the bad stuff?’
And God comes right back at him and says
in no uncertain terms:
‘Yes. Write this down.’
And the message is this:
‘Be patient.’

Then you get a very interesting thing happening as God
continues to answer Habakkuk’s questions –
especially on the matter of staying silent,
of tolerating the wicked...
letting them ‘get away’ with their wickedness.
God points to the behaviour of those who are doing wrong
and says ‘watch closely’
and shows Habakkuk an age-old truth:
that God doesn’t have to do that much –
you reap what you sow.
Whether your entire focus is trying to get one up on your neighbour,
as in the case of Mrs Packletide,
or whether you’re hell-bent on grabbing power,
at some point,
the obsession will cause you to overreach yourself
and you’ll find yourself falling.
For the most part, God doesn’t have to do overmuch in the case of the wicked:
generally, they sow the seeds of their own destruction.
Or, to use that other old expression:
‘live by the sword, die by the sword.’

God’s answer to Habakkuk is to be patient.
It’s to keep watching, to keep waiting.
But waiting isn’t necessarily a passive thing –
to wait is an act of faith,
believing that God hears,
that God will do something,
that God is playing the long game
and in God’s good time
all will finally be ordered
in God’s good way.
To wait, in faith, is an active thing:
we trust in the vision of the future
that God shows us,
and, as God’s people,
we invest our own lives in working towards that future –
climbing up our watchtowers to see what’s happening in the world
and to hear God speaking...
and also climbing back down to be in the world
to be God’s messengers both in word and in action.
I’ve said it before,
I’ll say it again:
one person can make a difference.

A year ago, a lone 15 year old girl decided to go on strike from school.
She sat, by herself, against the wall of her country’s Parliament,
with a placard with a message about climate change.
Nobody knew her name then.
A year ago.
Now, unless you’ve been living in space, everyone’s heard of her:
Greta Thunberg.
And on Friday she made her protest again in New York,
except this time, millions of people around the world decided to join her
as she proclaimed her message.
Sure, there was the thorny matter of trying not to create a bigger carbon fooprint
than she needed, to get to New York, but she made it work in the end.

As God’s people, we have a message to proclaim.
And as we proclaim it,
we have to deal with the thorny issue of working out how to live this odd life of faith.
What is faith?
The reformer, Martin Luther said that:
‘Faith is a living, daring confidence in God’s grace, 
so sure and certain that the believer would stake his or her life on it.’
It’s ‘a divine work in us which changes us and makes us to be born anew of God.’
Faith is daring to believe that the God of the universe
does hear us when we pray, just as Habakkuk prayed.
Faith is daring to believe that God will save:
us, our nation, the world...
Faith is daring to believe that, when it comes to the wicked,
God has that one covered as well.
And faith dares to believe that,
as we go about our everyday lives, our everyday work,
just as Habakkuk did,
that God uses us in the big and in the small
to change the world.

Habakkuk asked three questions of Gd:
‘Are you listening?’
‘Will you save me?’
‘Will you deal with all this bad stuff?’
I think those questions can be flipped
and asked of us:
‘Are we listening... to God?’
‘Will we save others... as God has surely rescued us?’
‘Will we deal with all this bad stuff – working alongside God,
inspired by God’s vision of the world?’
Amen.

Sunday morning worship - Majoring on the Minors: Zephaniah and the God who sings

READINGS: Zeph 1:1-18 and 3:1-20

SERMON/ ‘Because you’re worth it’
Let’s pray: May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer, Amen.

I’m sure you’ve seen it on the telly:
The camera is looking at someone who has their back to us.
While we can’t see their face,
we can see their beautiful, long, lush, and shiny hair –
hair so shiny that the light is fairly bouncing off it.
There’s a move of the neck and with it,
the hair flicks, rippling wonderfully, wondrously across the screen:
such perfect, fabulous hair.
The person turns to camera, holds up a plastic bottle and says:
‘Beautiful hair?
L’oreal.
... Because you’re worth it.’

'Because you’re worth it.'
It’s a great tag-line a tag-line that someone like Zephaniah
would be rather pleased with as he ponders God’s dealings with his people.
But let’s start at the beginning.

At the start of our service this morning, I mentioned in passing that Zephaniah’s
message might just be a little more upbeat than some of the previous prophets
we’ve been spending time with.
‘Thank heavens,’ I hear you all say.
Amos was all about justice;
Hosea was all about faithfulness –
and as part of getting God’s message across to the people,
Hosea married a woman who, for whatever reason,
found it hard to remain faithful to her man.
Micah was a man on a mercy mission.
All of the prophets so far having incredibly important themes and messages...
big stuff, but, gosh, it’s.... been... hard... work:
it’s not an easy thing to spend time with prophets –
in the main, they’re pretty full-on kind of people.
Into our prophetic mix, today, we meet Zephaniah:
and Zephaniah’s all about joy –
all about the God who sings,
the God who rejoices over us.
Shiny, happy Zephaniah –
except his book doesn’t exactly start out in a shiny, happy kind of way:
you have to work a little at it, but, keep going, because in the end,
it’s worth it,
it’s awesome.

By now, those of you who’ve managed to be here over the weeks
we’ve been looking at the Minor Prophets,
might be getting a sense that within our books of Minor Prophets,
there’s a wee bit of a common pattern, and, you’d be right.
First, we get a little intro about our prophet.
So, today, in the beginning of the book of Zephaniah, we find out a wee bit
about his ancestry - it’s a bit like the bible meets the show ‘Who do you think you are?’
We find out that Zephaniah is the son of Cushi.
His Grandpa is a chap called Gedaliah...
we get back as far as his great-great grandfather.
We also find out that Zephaniah is living in the time of King Josiah of Judah...
so, he’s a southerner.
And where Amos and pals were mostly living in the 8th century,
Zephaniah is more a 7th century kind of boy.
All of that biographical stuff, just from the very first verse.

How does the rest of the pattern go?
We get into the message itself:
generally finding out what terrible things the people have done,
and how far they’ve strayed from God.
If you like, think of this as the:
‘Okay folks, here’s the thing...’ section.
Then we usually have potential punishment:
with our 8th Century prophets, it’s the Assyrians waiting in the background,
ready to make life difficult –
basically they’ll act us a wake-up call to God’s people –
as a wee nudge to turn back to him.
This is what I call the ‘here’s what’s going to happen to you lot’ section.
And then, we have last part of the formula:
God saying, ‘actually, here’s the thing, while you do deserve to be punished,
I can’t find it in my heart to hurt you, let’s work something out.’
The initial call for the people to repent
ends up with God having a change of heart:
they’ll suffer for a bit, but, he’ll spare them –
it will all work out in the end.
And this last is the:
‘hey folks, although you really, really mess with my head, I really, really love you,’ section.
So, that’s the basic pattern of a prophetic book.
And, Zephaniah’s not that different.
If you read the opening chapters and even up to half-way
through the final chapter,it’s pretty horrific.
God’s had enough and says:
‘that’s it, no more, I’m going to destroy it all.’
Except this time, it won’t be the Assyrians, it’ll be the Babylonians:
seems no matter what the period in history,
whether it’s the Iron Age or the current age,
there’ll always be some hungry for power dictator or empire
ready to swallow up those more vulnerable in the world.

As you work your way through Zephaniah,
there’s list upon list of grievances that God has against the
various peoples of the world.
Remember:
this is supposed to be the shiny happy prophet...
And oddly, having got past all of the grief that God has expressed –
because, actually that’s what’s been happening:
God’s been singing a lament...
in the last half of the very last chapter of Zephaniah,
suddenly, it’s as if the sun comes out and everything is bathed in light.
God has sung through his disappointment,
has sung some very angry ‘I’m going to burn the whole place down’ songs,
and come back to a place of love –
remembered his people,
remembered their flaws,
remembered that they are imperfect
and also remembers that perfection is a process:
these are his people,
created in his image,
and they’ll get it wrong time and time again,
and God will be with them every step of the way, no matter what –
because that’s what love looks like...
it doesn’t wait until perfect has arrived, it wades in:
into all the sorry mess,
and tries to clear a path through,
to point the way,
to say
‘I’ll take your pain,
I’ll bear your punishment,
I’ll delight in you,
I’ll comfort you when it all gets too much,
I’ll sing love songs to you.’
Suddenly, in the last section of Zephaniah,
the radiance of God’s love is dazzling:
is full of hope and promise –
there’s no room for despair,
for God’s love song will lift the people out of it,
will inspire them to see themselves as God sees them –
as intricately crafted beings created by God in love,
and made in God’s own image.
And if you haven’t worked it out yet,
Zephaniah’s message isn’t just to God’s people in the 7th century –
it to God’s people now:
us.

God’s love song of rejoicing calls for a response –
and within Zephaniah, it’s an answering cry of rejoicing:
as God sings a song of joy and love to us,
so we sing a song of joy and love to God.
Zephaniah reminds us that what we find at the heart of worship –
what worship is all about
is our response to God’s song of love to us.
We may have to wade through some tough stuff so that we can get to the place
where we hear the song of restoration, and rejoicing,
where we discover anew God’s love for us,
but the journey is always worth it.
God’s in the restoration business because God loves.
God’s in the business of rejoicing, again, because God loves.
That’s Zephaniah’s message:
that to respond to God in love,
and to choose to rejoice in God,
are the very blocks on which
we should build our lives.

It’s interesting to me that, often, this last chapter of Zephaniah is one
that comes around generally in the season of Advent –
that season of watching and preparing for Christmas.
There’s a great poem written by Madeleine L’Engle, and I make no apologies at all
for the fact that this is a Nativity reflection.
It’s called ‘First Coming’:

He did not wait till the world was ready,
till men and nations were at peace.
He came when the Heavens were unsteady,
and prisoners cried out for release.

He did not wait for the perfect time.
He came when the need was deep and great.
He dined with sinners in all their grime,
turned water into wine.

He did not wait till hearts were pure.
In joy he came to a tarnished world
of sin and doubt.
To a world like ours, of anguished shame
he came, and his Light would not go out.

He came to a world which did not mesh,
to heal its tangles, shield its scorn.
In the mystery of the Word made Flesh
the Maker of the stars was born.

We cannot wait till the world is sane
to raise our songs with joyful voice,
for to share our grief, to touch our pain,
He came with Love: Rejoice! Rejoice!...

God, the great singer of love songs to us,
sings the greatest song of love there is,
in sending us Jesus...
there are words of love,
and there is the one true Word of love.
God sent Jesus,
because...
in God's eyes,
we’re worth it. Amen.

Annual Church Coffee Morning a fun raiser and a fund-raiser

It's back - and all are welcome!

Come along to Roberton Village Hall and

join us for our annual coffee morning -

glorious home baking,

great company,

good blethers...

what's not to like?

See you tomorrow!