Reading was Luke 3: 7 -18

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I wish I had more time this morning to explore what this reading at the start of Luke’s Gospel says to us.  (I really want to tell you a story.)

It’s wild stuff…right? Name-calling…dire warnings…threats… And it’s described at the end as ‘good news’!  Really? Why…?

In it all there is a strong theme of anticipation. John is proclaiming something that is going to happen soon – in doing so he stands in a long prophetic tradition, running right through the Old Testament.

What is John anticipating…? Divine justice. God is going to put things right.

Let’s be clear, divine justice is helping the vulnerable, but it is also punishing the wrongdoers. And so John is anticipating this divine judgement, warning people to repent by taking action and do the right thing before it’s too late!

We see this dual understanding of justice in our own context: we know it’s important to help and care for the victims of crime; it’s also important to see that offenders are held accountable for their crimes.

And yet… The arrival of Jesus introduces a radical new understanding of divine justice. To appreciate this new understanding, I need to read to you from the prophet Isaiah.  Chapter 61:

The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me;
he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,
to bind up the broken-hearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and release to the prisoners;
² to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour,
and the day of vengeance of our God;       (Is 61: 1-2)

Sound familiar? Where else in the Bible do we hear this passage of Isaiah read…? By Jesus, in the fourth chapter of Luke (when he stands in the local synagogue and identifies himself as the anticipated Messiah).

The fascinating thing Jesus does (at the start of his public ministry) is stop short of the full reading of Isaiah’s prophecy.

“He has sent me … to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

And he stops (and sits down).

There is no natural break in the Isaiah passage there. Jesus makes a new ending, and does not continue reading: “and the day of vengeance of our God”.

Why not? He says he has come to bring freedom to the oppressed (that’s the good news), but not bring vengeance (the bad news). Does Jesus not say this because he doesn’t want to be offensive? No way – Jesus knew how to be offensive!

One minister I heard describes the new understanding of divine justice: Jesus stops there because he came not to bring the vengeance of God, but to bear the vengeance of God. He did not come to bring judgement – he came to bear judgement. He came to take the punishment we deserve. On the cross Jesus takes the punishment that is ours – the judgement came down on him.

This is a radical new understanding of divine justice. And it means Jesus can stand by us (even when we fail) because he has done what is necessary to put things right.

This understanding of divine justice which Jesus came to bring, is truly ‘good news’.

Let me tell you a story. This is by Adrian Plass, and expresses the understanding of divine justice we see Jesus bring.

Little Gargi did not know a great deal about anything.  No one had ever taken the trouble to teach her.

Once, a lady with a kind voice had told her it was important to know what it means to be ‘normal’.  After that, Gargi used to whisper the word to herself over and over again, wondering what it meant.

“Normal, normal, normal – what is normal?”

She certainly did not know anything about living in a real house with a mother and father and brothers and sisters, because she had never had any of those things.  She did know that she lived in a city called Dhaka, and she had heard that Dhaka was just one little part of a huge country called Bangladesh, but she had never seen the endless, flat plains that some of the women talked about.

She had spent the whole of her eight years in the dirty narrow streets of the crowded city slums, and most of each day had been taken up with struggling to get together enough money to make sure that she ate something before night came.

When she was about six, she had found out that grown-up men would give her money if she let them do things to her body that she did not understand.  Gargi hated it.  Quite often the men would hurt her very much, and none of them cared about her afterwards.  The worst ones just threw her way into the gutter, as if she was some dirty, damaged little doll.

For quite a long time now she had been feeling very ill, and she had a misty sort of feeling that it was connected with the things those men did.  Her breathing didn’t seem to work very well and her head throbbed and her body felt sore.

One night the mucky little girl in her ragged dress lay down to sleep on one of the ash-heaps that had been her only bed and pillow for as long as she could remember. In the middle of the night, sleep turned to something else, and Gargi never again woke to the streets of Dhaka.

Instead she found herself on the side of a grassy hill beneath a quite different sky, one that shone like a huge upside-down silver bowl.  At the top of the hill in the distance, Gargi could see a city that shone in the light of the evening sun as if it were made of some very precious metal.  It was as different from the city she had known for her eight years as any city could be.   She so wanted to be there.

At the bottom of the hill was another place, but this was shrouded in black smoke, and completely hidden from the gold rays of the sun.

Where did she belong?

A man walked past, on his way up the hill.

“Where do I belong, please?” she asked.

He stopped and looked down at her.

“Have you repented of your sins?”

“No.”

“Have you made a personal commitment to our Lord Jesus Christ?”

“No.”

The man jerked his thumb in the direction of the bottom of the hill and continued on his way without looking back. Gargi watched him for a moment and then started to walk slowly down towards the dark city.  Another man approached her.  He was an older person with kind eyes.

“Where do I belong?”

This man asked exactly the same questions as the first one, but tears came into his eyes when he heard the answers.  He was still shaking his head sadly as he pointed down the hill and turned to continue on his way, looking back often and still dabbing at his eyes, but never stopping.

At the bottom of the hill, Gargi entered the gloom of the smoke-shrouded city.  Searching for a place to be and not knowing what else to do, she chose an ash-heap, higher and hotter than any she had known in Dhaka, and lay down, wondering if this was a place where you were supposed to go to sleep.

Suddenly there was a disturbance.  It was a man’s voice shouting and calling.

“Okay, where is she?  Where is that girl?  Where has she gone? Gargi, where are you?

Honestly, what is the matter with my own silly, silly people?  How could they be so … ?  They’ll be the death of me – well, they’ve already been that, haven’t they?

Gargi!  Goodness gracious, fancy me having to come all the way down here!

Gargi, sweetheart, where have you put yourself?  Look, I’m not going back without you, so – ah, there you are!  Thank goodness…!”

“Do I belong here?”

“Certainly not!  Of course not.  You’re in the wrong place.  You belong with me at the top of the hill.  Do you want to come with me?”

“Are you allowed to let me?”

The man said slowly: “I can do just whatever I like. Any more questions?”

Gargi looked up into the man’s face.  Was he cross?  No, his eyes were twinkling.  As well as being tall and strong he was somehow very gentle looking.  He reminded her a little bit of the kind lady.

“Please, I would like to come, but could you tell me – what is normal?”

For a small silent moment the man looked down as if he was going to cry.  Then he leaned down and in one swift, powerful movement hoisted the small figure way above his head and onto his shoulders.

“Hold onto my hair, pretty little miss,” he said, laughing as he began to stride up the hill.  “I’ll show you normal.”

 

Readings were Jeremiah 33: 14- 16 and John 5.19-27

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This week I celebrated a significant milestone. Ten years ago I was ordained as a Minister – right here.

I have been reflecting a lot this week. What I’ve encountered in ministry, what I’ve learned, how I’ve changed.  And above all, I feel a deep sense of joy at being able to serve God and Christ’s Church.

One of the greatest joys over the ten years of being a Minister here at St John’s has been something that I have received. And that is that three out of our four children have been baptised here. (Our oldest was baptised before we came to St John’s.)

This has been very important for me and my family. We have received the ministry of you all in this congregation; we have felt held and encouraged by the faith we share together. We deeply value the communal nature of our faith.

And so, on this tenth anniversary I hope you will indulge me in preaching about baptism –as one of my greatest delights of ministry – important for me personally and also (I believe) for us communally.

I’m aware that we as a congregation have some different thoughts about baptism and what it means. We can be ‘wired’ with preconceptions about what authentic baptism is, and isn’t. Baptism is a really important aspect of our faith. One that grounds us. And it is perhaps because of this that we probably aren’t inclined to question our understanding of baptism as rigorously as other aspects of our faith.

Even if you haven’t given it much thought at all, I want to offer an understanding of baptism that gets past the mere ‘mechanics’ and supposed ‘pre-requisites’ of baptising, to get at the heart of what baptism is about.

Among other things, baptism signals the Christian understanding of what God has done in Christ to rescue us from death and bring us into new life. This is the promise Jesus makes in today’s Gospel reading:

²⁴Very truly, I tell you, anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life, and does not come under judgement, but has passed from death to life.

Baptism expresses this movement: from death to life. This movement from one realm into another.[1]

In the early church this movement into God’s realm is pictured as deliverance from darkness into light:

you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light.

Once you were not a people,
but now you are God’s people;
once you had not received mercy,
but now you have received mercy.  (1 Peter 2:9-10)

Wow! …You are God’s people…for you have received mercy.

When I was training for ministry in Dunedin, one of my lecturers told me of a time someone approached him, knowing he was a lecturer training Presbyterians, who wanted to know what Presbyterians are about.

“Do you believe in infant baptism?” he asked.

My lecturer replied: “Believe in it…?!     I’ve seen it done!”

For some, the baptism of babies is not regarded as authentic. The main reason usually given is that babies can’t make a conscious decision to follow Jesus. Now, there’s no way I want to argue that adult (or ‘Believers’) baptism is wrong, but I do want to recognise the strong theology of infant baptism and why it is necessary to hold on to as well as the baptism of adults.

Let me ask you to do some thinking… Does baptism ensure our salvation…?

In the New Testament we are told:

[God has] saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace.

This grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, ¹⁰but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Saviour Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.  (2 Timothy 1:9-10)

Salvation is given to us by grace, through what God has done in Christ. So, baptism does not achieve or ensure our salvation.

So, what’s it about? Baptism is about welcome. As mentioned earlier, baptism signals what God has done, and expresses a movement. We have been moved from one realm into another – from death to life. We are rescued by what our Saviour Christ Jesus has done – not by what we do.

Our baptism expresses the truth of what God has already done. Baptism is a response by the Church for the wonderful salvation given to us. In fact, baptism is the BEST response – as together we acknowledge the life we are given in Christ.

We acknowledge this by expressing the welcome of God; we express hospitality and inclusion on God’s behalf. We make space for one another, recognising that God gives us belonging in His realm.

Can you see how an emphasis in baptism on what we do might be misplaced because of this? An emphasis on my decision to be baptised (as the critical initiative) highlights MY agency as most important.

But the Gospel insists that is the action of God that is primary. Baptism is first and foremost about what God has done, not what we do.

We express our shared faith in what God has done by baptising. And when we baptise a baby we are demonstrating that God’s purposes are not limited by natural human capability.

It is a great tragedy, in my view, that there has been such a dominant emphasis in Modernity on reason, as the main characteristic of humanity that gives evidence that we bear the image of God. After all, what does such an emphasis say about those who cannot reason? Those without cognitive ability – such as babies, or those with intellectual disabilities…? Are they not able to participate in a shared human response to God’s grace?

Hear again what else Jesus says in today’s Gospel reading:

Very truly, I tell you, the hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God

The dead will hear…? This, of course, isn’t saying humans have ‘everlasting hearing’. This is about the power of God’s Word. The power of God’s Word calls the dead to new life. The power of God’s Word summons God’s new realm.

Furthermore, it indicates that God’s Word has a power that defies our experiences and (perhaps) our expectations. And that we should be cautious about imposing limitation on God’s activity – especially when that limitation is culturally informed (like, the virtue in our culture of personal autonomy and free choice).

God’s Word summons God’s realm.

We glimpse this in Jesus earthly ministry. Jesus radically changed the understanding of how God relates to children. He welcomes them as fully human. (As has been said here recently) Jesus is radically inclusive. We celebrate this together in baptism – both adults and babies – all of us. We celebrate that God draws us together – all welcome in God’s realm. We celebrate that we each have a vital part.

This is why the New Testament image of the Church as the Body of Christ is so vital. God gathers us together as members of the Body of Christ, each one with unique gifts and contributions that are needed as part of God’s realm.

Let me read a passage from 1 Corinthians that was read as part of my ordination service ten years ago… (1 Cor 12:4-7, 27)

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.

Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.

As I said at the start of this sermon, it has been such a joy that our children have received baptism here. And we celebrate our children’s baptism every year. On the anniversary of their Baptism we go out for a special meal together (usually somewhere with a meal that is ‘happy’), and we celebrate the love of God for that person and for us all.

More significantly, we also celebrate the love of God expressed in baptism every week. We do this here with you, our church family. We come to give and receive, together in the ministry and mission of the Body of Christ. So that we will all grow in our faith.

Praise be to God!

[1] As we heard in our other reading today, this is what God spoke through the prophet Jeremiah: “¹⁵In those days and at that time I will cause a righteous Branch to spring up for David; and he shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. ¹⁶In those days Judah will be saved and Jerusalem will live in safety.”

God is establishing a new realm for people – a realm not of death, but of justice and righteousness – where people will live, really live.

Reading was Hebrews 2:10-18

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What stands out to you in the words of this hymn (‘And Can It Be’)?

Perhaps you know this hymn well – it’s an old favourite for many. But even if this isn’t the case, it has rich meaning to offer us, as an expression of the faith we have, and perhaps the faith we want to have. And so let me pick up some things that stand out to me, and make some connections with the Hebrews reading.

Background to the hymn: The hymn was written by Charles Wesley shortly after he experienced a significant pivotal moment in his faith journey on 21 May 1738. This was just three days before his brother John Wesley felt his heart ‘strangely warmed’… (founder of the Methodist Church).

1. Wesley (Charles, that is) begins the hymn unusually with the word ‘And’. What a way to start a song, …or story or poem or any writing!

However, it makes sense as an opening question, in evoking a sense of ‘backstory’.

And can it be that I should gain
an interest in the Saviour’s blood?

It suggests this hymn is a response to some revealed information and an awareness of the significance of that.

Of course the response is to the particular revelation of God’s ‘Amazing love’ displayed in the death of God’s Son.

The rhetorical question, “Died he for me, who caused his pain – for me?” acknowledges, not just the amazing love, but the amazing grace of God (to reference another great hymn). This truth is what we hear in the Hebrews reading:

Jesus makes of himself “a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people.” (v17)

how can it be
that thou, my God, shouldst die for me!

2. The second verse probes the mystery of Jesus’ sacrificial death:

’Tis mystery all! The Immortal dies.

It is a paradox that the divine Son of God, who existed before time comes as one of us, into the human experience and submits himself to human death (for the sake of human redemption).

The Hebrews reading describes “God, for whom and through whom all things exist” giving Jesus his impeccable divine credentials in order to achieve human redemption. This move of the Creator into his creation is also expressed in a Christmas carol: (that’s right we’re starting to think about Christmas carols!)

Low within a manger lies
He who built the starry skies
He who throned in height sublime
Reigns above the cherubim
(‘See Amid the Winters Snow’)

3. In the third verse there is a description of the move of the Creator into his creation following the pattern of Philippians chapter 2 (which we heard in today’s Call to Worship).

He left his Father’s throne above,
(so free, so infinite his grace!)
emptied himself of all but love

It marvels at the love and humility of Christ’s incarnation and death in solidarity with all humanity.

I have to admit that the fourth verse is my favourite. So I’m wanting us to linger around here a bit longer. Wesley describes the human spirit as being in slavery – slavery to sin:

Long my imprisoned spirit lay
fast bound in sin and nature’s night:

It’s the same image used in the Hebrews reading:

their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death (v15)

This image reminds us of the story of Israel being liberated from slavery in Egypt – a defining story of God’s action with his people.

…but wait there’s more…

The imagery moves away from the Exodus of the Old Testament … to the New Testament account of Peter’s miraculous release from prison (Acts 12:6-9):

I woke; the dungeon flamed with light!
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed thee.

The Hebrews reading identifies how Jesus death is understood as our freedom. This is possible because Jesus is both fully divine, and fully human. Verse 17 describes Jesus as

‘merciful and faithful…in the service of God’ as well as…

having ‘become like his brothers and sisters in every respect’.

‘¹⁸Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.’

Jesus’ unique identity as fully divine and fully human, (and how he is able to achieve salvation through his suffering) is described in the letter to the Hebrews as the ‘pioneer of salvation’.

One way to imagine Jesus as our ‘pioneer of salvation’ is that he is leading the way for us to follow. Like an explorer hacking through the jungle where there is no path and no signage. Some explorers may make such a perilous journey for fame, wealth,…or even curiosity – why does Jesus do it?   For love.

Hacking through the difficult way that is the jungle of human life – the jungle of pain, suffering, sin and death. Nobody has ever gone through the jungle of human life and come out alive. Jesus has the motivation and the divine ability to make his way through, and emerges into a sunny clearing that is life with God – the perfect reality that awaits.

In the final verse of the hymn, Charles Wesley describes what the pioneer of our salvation achieves.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in him, is mine!
Alive in him, my living Head,
and clothed in righteousness divine

Jesus has taken on what is ours – and in a wonderful exchange[1] has given us what is his. We are not condemned, but are alive in Him. We are not seen by God in our stained and shabby sinfulness, but are clothed in the righteousness of Jesus.

Overall pattern of the hymn: response with a question of faith, describes salvation through Christ, concludes with the life we have in relationship with God now and forever.

So having dipped into some of the wonderful depth of the hymn and Hebrews, how does this relate to our experience? How does God’s revelation of amazing love and grace in the saving death of Jesus mean freedom and salvation for us? What does it mean to us to follow this pioneer of our salvation where he leads?

Both the hymn and Hebrews express the truth of what God has done for us. What God does is decisive – for all humanity.

AND for us our faith is a daily experience. Each day our faith is found in and shaped by our relationship to Jesus as followers. Remember what Jesus said to those he first called?

“Follow me.”

Jesus is our pioneer – that means he leads and we follow.

Living in Dunedin, felt obliged to join in winter sports… When I learned to ski, I had to learn to do something very counter-intuitive. In trepidation of hurtling 100 km/hr down a mountain, I would lean backward (away from the hard, cold, deadly snow).

Every time I fell down.  (“Skiing is so stupid!”)

After persistent encouragement by the instructor (and being poked with a ski pole) I gently tried leaning my weight forward. And what do you know…? Everything came together and I was able to stay standing and go where I needed to.

And to follow Jesus is like leaning our weight away from where we instinctively feel in control, into trusting ourselves with Jesus.

To follow Jesus is to trust ourselves into his control,
trusting that he knows the way (where we are going),
trusting that he makes the way [like through a difficult jungle]
trusting that he makes it possible for us to join him, by sharing with us what we need,
trusting that Jesus gives the effort, and achieves the outcome – where we can remain with him.

Summarising what God has done and is doing through Jesus, N.T. Wright says:

“There is nothing we face, today, tomorrow or the next day, in which Jesus cannot sympathise, help and rescue us; and through which he cannot forge a way to God’s new world.” (HEBREWS, p21)

Perhaps it has been a while since you made an intentional commitment to follow Jesus. Maybe you have never expressed this to God. It’s making a personal response to the call of Jesus “Follow me”.

I want to lead us in a prayer of response, to allow you the time and space (if you want to) to talk to God in your heart and make it clear to God and to yourself that you are willing and ready to follow him today…

[1] The substance of this exchange is best seen in Calvin’s own words in discussing the fruits of the Lord’s Supper: “This is the wonderful exchange which, out of his measureless benevolence, he has made with us; that, becoming Son of man with us, he has made us sons of God with him; that , by his descent to earth, he has prepared an ascent to heaven for us; that, by taking on our mortality, he has conferred his immortality upon us; that, accepting our weakness, he has strengthened us by his power; that, receiving our poverty unto himself, he has transferred his wealth to us; that, taking the weight of our iniquity upon himself (which oppressed us), he has clothed us with his righteousness.”

Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion, Institutes IV, xvii, 2–3. Bellingham, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1997.

This is the wonderful exchange that the believer enjoys as part of being an adopted child of God.
http://www.calvin500.com/the-wonderful-exchange-through-christ/

Readings were 1 Samuel 2:1-8 and Mark 12: 38 – 44

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Last Sunday my sermon was titled ‘Giving’

And I recalled the story of the boy who one evening heard his parents arguing about money. He heard them say they just didn’t have enough money to pay the rent that week. The boy reflected: “At that moment I knew exactly what I had to do. I went and got my piggybank, and buried it where they wouldn’t get their hands on it!”

Last Sunday we heard this same passage from Mark’s Gospel – about religious people and a poor widow. Hearing it again today, I want to draw out some other lessons for us.

Firstly, let me recap what we observed last week about this passage. Jesus isn’t happy. What’s he not happy about? It’s the way the religious folk are behaving. Jesus compares these ostentatious givers with someone else. The poor widow he sees giving two small coins as her act of worship.

Some have suggested that Jesus makes the comparison to teach that giving is to be sacrificial. We are to act like the widow, giving all that we have – even if we are ‘stonier than a biblical execution’. But, listening carefully Jesus does not explicitly teach this. And (as we concluded last week) more likely is that Jesus compares her giving to the rich people as an act of genuine worship – she gives out of love for God and neighbour.

Jesus compares those who want to receive with those who want to give. The problem Jesus recognises with the rich people is that they give only to receive the admiration of others. By comparison, the giving of the widow shows that we are all able to make genuine gifts expressing our love for God.

God knows our motivations for giving. Whatever our situation, God recognises generosity as worthy praise in response to what God has already given us.

There’s something else for consideration in this Gospel passage. That is that Jesus choosing to teach by comparing people.

It’s an interesting approach Jesus takes. How is it that we understand and experience comparing ourselves with others? We compare ourselves with others all the time …don’t we?

This is a very normal aspect of human nature. But it can be very destructive.We compare ourselves with others about our jobs, where we live, what car we drive, academic achievements, sporting accomplishments, the behaviour of our kids …whether we are busier than others.

There is an idea you might have heard of called ‘The Courtroom of the Mind’. The Courtroom of the Mind describes the internal comparisons we make all the time with others. Typically, I compare my weaknesses with another’s strengths. This means that everyone judges themselves harshly. We overlook what we actually have, and focus on different things others have – usually obsessing with comparisons of what others have that we don’t.

As a teenager, my over-achieving friend ‘Karl’ took his own life. To those around him, he was intelligent, athletic and doing extremely well early on in a professional career. But Karl could only see his deficiencies in comparison to others. In the Courtroom of the Mind there is only one judge – ourselves. And we can be the harshest judge we ever encounter.

Perhaps you know too well what this comparing with others is like.

The Courtroom of the Mind is particularly intense during teenage years, but sometimes we continue to judge ourselves all our lives.

“Comparison is the thief of joy” said US President Theodore Roosevelt.

How do we then accept this comparison Jesus makes in his teaching? This comparison he makes as his way of teaching?

Well, remember who it was Jesus saw as needing most change in their lives? Those who assumed they were great. Those who thought they were sorted – before God and others. He challenges them by way of comparison – with perhaps the most unlikely figures in society.

Jesus overturns assumptions by comparing phoney-baloney behaviour with genuine human behaviour – with knowledge of self, others and God.

Today, our problem is the opposite I think: we quickly compare ourselves with others. We are so desperate for validation.

Jesus compares in order to challenge arrogance and generate appropriate humility. Today we compare ourselves, and it most likely causes in us anxiety.

What can we say about comparison then? It’s really easy for us to take a moral lesson, jump to applying a rule for our own life.

But please don’t take from this sermon a message that you just have to try harder. Try harder not to judge yourself, try harder not to be anxious, try harder to be content. Not only is that ironic, more seriously, it falls short of the Gospel…the glorious promise with have in Christ.

So, we look at the big picture, in light of the whole Gospel.

In comparison to the holy majesty of God, who are we? Our proper relationship to God is creaturely humility. That has always been the case for all humans, and will always be the case. We are not able to impress God by who we are or what we do.

A lot of religions assume this is the meaning of life. Our purpose is to try harder to earn favour, or holiness,  or spiritual perfection.

But Christianity is realistic about our capacities before God. There is nothing we can do to make God love us more (or less for that matter).

This of course is the good news for humanity. What we need is given to us. Jesus says

unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. (Matthew 18:3)

Why? Children are aware of their vulnerability and their dependency. When we recognise this we know who we are – not in comparison with others, but in comparison with God.

Isn’t this exactly what we see with Jesus? Listen to the words of Philippians:

⁵Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
⁶ who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
⁷ but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
⁸   he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:5-8)

Jesus gave of himself. He “emptied himself”. He did not compare himself to others, claiming superiority on the basis of his impeccable divine credentials. Jesus displays no desperation for validation. Rather, obedience to the mutual will of the Father. Jesus became a slave, humbling himself to die for the sake of others.

He gave us what we need. He loves recklessly.

What about us…? Hear the start of the Philippians passage again:

⁵Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

Opening ourselves to follow Jesus allows us to recognise who we really are. Comparing ourselves to God humbles us (in an appropriate way), and because of the love and life Jesus gives us, we know we can be vulnerable and dependent before God.

I know, this runs so counter to much of our instincts. Which is why we must hear again and again the promises of what God gives us. It is why we practice together (in our worship) how to live in grateful response to all that God gives – actualising our love for God and neighbour. We need reminding of who we really are – in comparison with God.

Friends, know who you are – recipients of God’s love. Know you are loved – already and always.

Can you let go of the desperate attempts to feel loved and validated by others? For you are a child of God. You have been given all you really need.

Knowing that, you can give as Jesus gives.

Knowing that you are a child of God, you can love recklessly!

Readings were Psalm 127 and Mark 12: 38 – 44

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In the Gospel passage Jesus attacks the religious people. This something he had a reputation for.  Perhaps, some might even say, was what got him killed.

But really, it’s likely Jesus is just acknowledging the elephant in the room. You know how there is something obvious, but who is the one who is going to say something…?

There was once an adult daughter in the car with her elderly mother. The mother approaches a set of lights. The lights are red and she sails right through. The daughter is stunned, but does not say anything. She doesn’t want to undermine her mother and dent her confidence. But when her mother approaches the next set of lights, and goes through the red again, the daughter gently says “Mum, do you know you just went through two sets of red lights…?”

The mother responds “Oh… am I driving?”

Jesus is naming what is going on. He attacks the Scribes in the Temple.

Why? Because of their teaching…? Nope. Because of their behaviour: their over-the-top piety.

Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the market-places, ³⁹and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honour at banquets

Jesus expects more of these people.

They are wearing their long robes, parading before everyone in order to be seen and admired. Now, the Ministers here at St John’s wear long robes! What would happen if I paraded down Willis Street in my robe? Do you think I’d get much admiration…?

We have had Ridho visiting for three months from Indonesia, and I want to share with you one of his observations. It is about a difference between New Zealand and Indonesia in how Ministers of the Church are treated.

Pastors are also very close to everyone. In Indonesia pastors are highly respected (so that there is distance), if the pastor comes, the congregation will give a place and drink. But here it is different… Even pastors give a drink to those in the congregation, and I think these actions show humility.

I’d like to think we Kiwi Ministers are low on the ‘piety continuum! What do YOU think?

In addition to over-the-top piety, Jesus attacks the religious people for something else. We hear this rather strange criticism:

They devour widows’ houses

Mistreatment of widows is a big ‘no-no’ all the way through scripture. The prophets Malachi and Isaiah both condemn oppression and exploitation of widows (Malachi 3:5 and Isaiah 10:1-2).

Strangely, the Scribes were not a group prone to exploiting the poor. So where is Jesus’ attack aimed?

It is possible to translate this passage

As for those who…devour widow’s houses

…in which case it might be a different group being referred to. If that’s the case then who?

One scholar makes an interesting suggestion: the accusation is against trustees who were appointed to look after estates, but who deducted more than was fair as their expenses. Why then are they accused of false piety and not simple exploitation? It’s possible they said long prayers as an attempt to encourage potential clients to entrust them with their property.

So when Jesus says

for the sake of appearance say long prayers.

…it could suggest that they are not just doing so to make themselves look better, but that they have a motive of greed.

Jesus attacks the religious people for their over-the-top piety – and their greed. Greed for property (other people’s property). This could be why Jesus says

They will receive the greater condemnation.

For they are not just guilty of silly ostentatiousness – behaving like peacocks; they are guilty of preying on the vulnerable – behaving like hyenas. In doing so they not only fail to love God, they fail to love their neighbour.

Having talked about widows in general, Jesus then talks about a particular widow. It’s possible this shift is explained by Mark bringing two accounts together – the common factor being Jesus teaching about widows.

Jesus spots the widow worshipping – she is making her offering into the Temple treasury – large trumpet-shaped collection vessels. Jesus points out how extravagant her worship is, whereas what others offer as their worship costs them little. Her offering is commended because it arises out of love for God and for neighbour.

We could interpret this as Jesus pointing out the extent of her giving:

she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on. (v44)

But… emphasising this would suggest that our giving must be extreme – to the extent of hardship. Perhaps it is more helpful for us to interpret this as Jesus pointing out the act of giving itself. This makes sense given the previous verses about the religious leaders only interested in receiving – receiving attention and property. Jesus also implies that rich people threw their money in so that it made a loud/obvious noise in order to receive others’ attention.

That shouldn’t surprise us, since all of us naturally prefer to receive things to giving anything.  If it’s not material goods we long for, it’s people’s attention and praise.

While it may be more blessed to give than receive, at least some of us find it easier to receive than give. But we follow Jesus, who shows in his own life that he received very little, and gave away everything.

We follow Jesus who gave up heaven’s glory to be born to unmarried peasants in someone’s guest room. We follow Jesus who took little but lavishly gave of himself.

I’m not at all sure God is as interested in how much we give as in whether we give at all. Some of us may be able to give generously. Few of God’s people can give sacrificially.

But all of us can probably give more, as we recognise all that we receive.

A father was at home and heard a strange noise in the next room, so went to investigate. He found his daughter with one end of a string tied around her front tooth and the other end to the door handle, and she was slamming the door shut. Each time she did this the string was ‘twanging’ loudly.

“What are you doing?” he cried.

“Trying to pull my tooth out” she replied.

He said to her, “Is it wobbly?

“Nope” she replied “Stand back!”, and slammed the door again. Twang 

“Stop! Stop! Honey, why are you doing that?”

She stared at him “I need the money.”

Jesus shows us a new economy – God’s Kingdom economy. Where it is better to give than receive. Where people choose to give out of love for God and for neighbour. Jesus isn’t even promoting correct religious practice.

Think about it. If we consider the whole Gospel story, we see that religious practices follows acceptance of God’s love and forgiveness.

God does the giving. God gives us His Son, who gives his life for us.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son. (John 3:16)

And in this new economy – this Kingdom economy – God gives to us first. We do not give to impress God; or to earn God’s love. We do not give to be good, pious people. We give because we have received so much! We give out of love for God and for neighbour.

All of this is a central theological assumption about…the meal of Communion.

God gives Jesus. Jesus gives his life to save us.

We receive God’s grace, incorporating us in the Body of Christ – the worshipping Church.

We give back in response – out of love for God and for neighbour.

So as we come to this holy meal, we recognise we are recipients.

We receive first. But we are not only recipients. If we picture ourselves this way, we behave like the Scribes – only interested in receiving.

Jesus commends giving as a sign of grateful worship in response to God who has given us everything – life, meaning, joy, hope.

One final comment. This pattern of giving because we have received is at the heart of St John’s Mission Statement.

Worship • Grow • Live • Share

God gathers us to worship and grow our faith so we can live and share Christ’s hope for our world

As we worship God, we more deeply appreciate all we are given, and we offer to God and to our neighbour expressions of true and joyful generosity in our giving.

May we experience just how more blessed it is to give than to receive.

Readings were Jeremiah 31:7-9 and Mark 10:46-52

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It’s really interesting that in the last couple of chapters, Jesus has been struggling to get his disciples to know who he really is.

Peter kind of got it, until he rebuked Jesus for telling him His ministry will lead to death on a cross. James and John get the idea that following Jesus means greatness the way the worlds sees it.

The only person who seems to know Jesus is Bartimaeus – and it is the knowing the truth of who Jesus is that propels him to call on Jesus, to seek mercy and healing. He will not be put off or put down. He will not be silenced and when he is sternly ordered to be quiet he cried out even more loudly! He does not care what people think of him or how they might react – he’s blind, not deaf, and although he hears people mumble at how useless he is, how unworthy he is, how sinful he is,  he knows Jesus will have mercy on him!

Let’s face it we only call on people to help us, really help us, when we know who they are and when we know what they can do – a child will reach out to their parent because they trust them to get them out of the mess, the pain, the hurt, the bad situation.

Out of all the characters so far, Bartimaeus, the least out of everyone, knows Jesus and says:

My life is rough, I can’t do anything to change it but I know you can.

I can’t do anything to change the situation but I call out to the one who can – Jesus have mercy! But I am told to be quiet.

I want to cry out to the one who can heal me. And those around me tell me not to be so loud, to shut up – what they are saying is that they want me to remain in the state I am because it would make them feel uncomfortable if things were to change.

Like Bartimaeus, I wonder, as we cry out for mercy, how often we feel we are required to keep silent? How often are we asked to keep our voices down, just in case we might offend someone in our very controlled and contrive world?  Lest there be an utterance that might tear apart that which we’ve constructed to keep out.

What or who, we don’t want to see, or hear, or acknowledge? Or how often do we silence others, convinced that their cries for mercy are not worthy of God’s attention?

If we are honest I believe there are times we all do this. We keep silent. We urge others to do the same. Speaking out?  That’s risky! Stating your opinion?  That is cause for rebuff. Saying what you think is true about the Gospel?  Get ready for rejection.

At some point there is only so much you can take, we can take.  There is only so many times that someone can say, “shut up” before we say

No, I cannot be quiet.  I will not be silent.  And don’t you dare try to silence me.

What will drive us, propel us to call out to Jesus for mercy, even when others might tell us to be quiet? When will we find ourselves standing with Bartimaeus, for the sake of Bartimaeus?

There’s been a recent story in the media about a disabled African woman about to travel.  She was entering the plane and was ready to take her seat when the man next to her began to shout at her saying he didn’t want her sitting next to her.  Apart from her daughter, who told the man not talk like that, everyone else simply walked passed, ignoring what was going on.

Like the people who simply walked past, although they didn’t silence the woman’s cry for mercy, their lack of response enabled the injustice to go on. We may not tell people to be quiet but I wonder if our silence is because we are happy to allow injustice to go on, as long as it doesn’t affect me, rather than in respect of the call for mercy?

No, I cannot be quiet.  I will not be silent.  And don’t you dare try to silence me.

The Me Too Movement, in a limited way, is a good example of standing with Bartimaeus, for the sake of Bartimaeus today. The movement was born out of one woman’s cry for mercy.  She had remained silent about her sexual assault for so long because there were so many people (including her own inner voice) telling her it was too late, it would only cause more pain, or it would do no good. Voices telling her to be quiet, to shut up.

I don’t know what caused her to finally say something, but she did, she called out the truth about her hurt – hoping it would be heard, and responded to. And it was. More and more people shared their pain and experience and for some, injustice was answered with justice, deep hurt was addressed and healing began to take place.

The only problem is that when mercy comes from any place other than Jesus, it is limited mercy. I think it is really important to note that calling out for mercy isn’t about making a noise for the sake of it, or for simply embarrassing the other.  Rather it is about crying out to the only one who can make any difference, receiving mercy, and in the case I shared, justice and then following Jesus as people of His mercy and His justice.

No, I cannot be quiet.  I will not be silent.  And don’t you dare try to silence me.

Some of you know that Lala and I have been struggling to get her parents to visit New Zealand for a holiday.  This process, something we thought would have been relatively straightforward, has been painful and hard. Through this process I have heard of stories of grandparents being denied the ability to visit their grandchildren and vice-versa often because of limited funds.

Of course, these stories are not always clear-cut, but when a pattern emerges, that is, the majority of these cases concern poor people, then are we to remain quiet or ignore the catcalls for silence and call out for mercy? As we’ve called out for mercy, called out to Jesus, we have been blessed by the support of so many.  People have given advise and renewed our energy and our faith in the only one who gives real healing.

No, I cannot be quiet.  I will not be silent.  And don’t you dare try to silence me.

What will drive us, propel us to call out to Jesus for mercy, even when others might tell us to be quiet? When will we find ourselves standing with Bartimaeus, for the sake of Bartimaeus?

Readings were Hebrews 5:1-10 and Mark 10:35-45

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One of our family’s most favourite stories is called ‘Bojabi’ by Bill Harley.  The story is about a group of animals in Africa who are dying of hunger.  The only food they have is a strange fruit with no name.  Seeing it has no name they are afraid to eat it.  The excitement happens when a few of the animals seek out the only animal in the jungle that will know the name of the fruit – the Lion.  I won’t say too much more about the story just in case you want to hear it for yourself, however I want to share with you my favourite character, which is the mouse.

The mouse is simply known by what he says – “I’m great!”

That is all he says “I’m great, I’m great, I’m great”.  The mouse has no problem with self- esteem.

I wonder if we can all be like the mouse, where we think we are great, or at least believe we deserve to be great and that’s what we do in our lives – seek to be great.

Seek to be great but in the wrong way. Seek to become great by following those who might give us some power – their power might rub off on us. By climbing over others to get to the top – like in the video clip.

In the gospel reading today, this is the main issue that Jesus has to deal with, his disciples desiring to be great. His response isn’t to abolish them of this desire, but rather to remind them again, (this is the third time he’s tried to tell them he is going to die in Jerusalem), that being great in God’s Kingdom is when you don’t seek greatness.

It’s interesting to note that when Jesus enters his glory, he is dying on the cross (Luke 23:39-43).And as he enters paradise, he has on his right and left two criminals, who have also been crucified. I don’t think either James or John would have thought, asking Jesus that they be seated next to him, that he meant crucifixion.

“You still don’t get it do you”, Jesus says. “If you really knew what you were asking – to be truly great – you might regret what you ask for – are you sure you can drink the cup I am about to drink?”

“We’re sure!”

To which Jesus agrees. By the time that Mark is written, James will have been killed by Herod Agrippa I in 44 C.E. for his role as a leader in the Jerusalem Church. The fate of John is uncertain, though traditionally it was reported that he lived into old age in Ephesus.

To his disciples then and now, Jesus says, If you follow me, if you truly desire to follow me then you will only be great if you serve others, which ultimately could mean your own suffering and death.

Whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, ⁴⁴and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all.

This is a slap in the face of what we have been brought up to believe – we are taught that ‘We are great’ we can do whatever we want and if we’re not there now we just need to work a bit harder, a bit longer, a bit smarter and we will become great, we will become special, desired and loved.

Our lives become a seemingly endless movement to that place that is just beyond our reach – just beyond our grasp – but if we get there though, we believe life will have meaning, life will be glorious, we will just have to fight off all those other people who want to be where we are.

I wonder what some of the leaders of history had to do to remain great in the eyes of the world. Who did they have to push aside, get rid of or walk over to get to the top?

To this, I believe Jesus is saying we have to live not with the mantra ‘I am great’, but rather ‘You are great’.

First, ‘You oh God are great!  God you are awesome, majestic and glorious!’ Second, ‘you are great’ – the other – made in the image of our awesome, majestic and glorious God and because of Jesus given the ability to no longer be caught in the cycle of self- seeking glory which leads nowhere.

You are great, you are great.

Please don’t get me wrong here, living this way isn’t an invitation for us to hate ourselves or for other to mistreat us, rather it is the tuning on its head the thinking that we are ‘God’.

A sister of Mercy who served with Mother Teresa in Calcutta was once tending to the festering, oozing sores of a destitute patient when a tourist came to see the famous hospital.  The tourist commented, “I wouldn’t do that for all the money in the world.” The sister looked up and replied, “Neither would I.”

The saying ‘You are great’ is more than words proclaiming the other is loved by God, that they are great because of Jesus, it is the activity of love in the midst of dirt, distress and disease. Places that most tourists would not want to hang around in for long. It is about serving others not because we want to be noticed by the world but because we do it for Jesus, because of Jesus.

Jesus says this about himself:

For even the son of man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life/soul a ransom for the cause of many.

That is to say, Jesus is willing to lose his life/his soul in order to rescue others. This points to the courage that following Jesus requires. It is not a safe way of neglecting the needs of others in order to preserve our own lives/our own souls.

In fact, the paradox of faith, is that it is losing our own lives/our own souls that we preserve it. In turning from self-seeking glory to the only one who is Glorious, the Sovereign One, and rightly to be blessed.

And serving others even if it means getting down in the dirt, distress and disease of the world to tell and show the deep and profound love of God, witnessed in the actions, words and life, death and resurrection of Jesus.

This serving others may be the simple act of offering a kind word, the binding of wounds, the giving up of time, of caring for those who are hard to care for, or the nudging of others to turn from self- worship to the one who is truly Great!

Readings were Mark 9: 30 – 37 and James 3:13 – 4:3, 7-8a

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Who is the greatest?

The famed pugilist Mohamed Ali had a quick reply to that.

So do a lot of other people. There is more than one President who we recognise has a personal sense of inflamed ego – as well as Prime Minsters, sports people, and pop stars.  And at times, in these very public efforts to be ‘great’, we can see a clambering desperation.

It’s this same clambering desperation evident in the behaviour of Jesus’ disciples in the Gospel reading.

If we are honest, many of us, can go the wrong way about building our self-image. We try to build ourselves up by making ourselves superior to others.

Ever found yourself listening to the news about a corporate worker who has defrauded money, or a sports star caught taking drugs, or a politician stripped of ministerial responsibilities because she pushed things too far…     and feeling superior to them? Maybe, we snigger to ourselves and think:

Well, I may not as smart, as fast, or as powerful as them – but I’d never condescend to that level!

I actually feel better hearing the sordid details of other people broadcast publically. If that is about me feeling better about myself, what kind of basis for my sense of self is that?

Jesus tells us today that whoever wants to be first must be last of all, and servant of all. Do these words shock us? For some of us they may be so familiar they have lost the confronting power they first had… even though our own lives hardly ever match-up with what Jesus is saying!

When Jesus talks about the first becoming last of all, do we roll our eyes and pay little attention? Yet, do we really know what this phrase means when Jesus talks about the last of all becoming the first? And do we really believe it, in spite of the fact that there is so much evidence in the world to show us otherwise?

I mean really… who are the first? Who are the last?

Is Jesus talking about economics, and the first are the wealthy while the last are the poorest?
Is Jesus talking about fame?
Is Jesus talking about power?
Is it about spiritual righteousness, (like he challenged the Pharisees of his day)?

I’m not sure we know who ‘the first’ really are. Or ‘the last’, for that matter. We might assume that we know, but if we really think about it, all we have is an assumption, and that’s not the same as an explanation.

Perhaps the truth is that we aren’t supposed to think about being first or last at all. Maybe the point of this teaching isn’t to get us thinking about the words first and last, but instead to get us to set our assessments of ourselves and others aside and focus on welcoming and serving all, as Jesus welcomed and served all.

There is a wondrous sanity in Jesus which far outreaches all the so-called wisdom of the world. While he was trying to cope with the certainty of his arrest, desolation and agonising death, His disciples were stupidly intent on self-validation. They were arguing about which of them was the greatest.

Jesus was facing death but it was the disciples who were really on a path that was doomed.

Only God is sufficient to authenticate the value of our lives. Jesus teaches that whoever wants to be first must be last of all, and servant of all. Jesus lived and breathed the message that God loves us and values us as priceless, and that this is the only sure ground of peace and purpose.

Don’t trust yourself, don’t trust the opinions of others, just trust God. Do that and a secure realisation of your true worth will come to you as sheer gift.

Let go. Let God.

Jesus took a small child and stood him among the quarrelling disciples, a humble little figure. He maybe sat the child on his knee, as an example of those who have no status yet have everything.

There may be a double meaning here. In the early church new converts where called ‘little children’. The new converts brought nothing except their readiness to trust the grace of God in Christ Jesus. They disowned all else and started afresh.

The early believers saw conversion and baptism as a dying to the old self and a rising to the new self. It was a helpful insight and practice. John’s Gospel expresses it in another way when he says that those who truly believe have already crossed over from death to life.

Will you each ask yourself again this day:

Am I caught up in the futile practice of trying to be ‘great’ through my own efforts?
Am I attempting to build up my self-worth by competing with, or looking down on, others?

All efforts at greatness, no matter how outwardly successful they may appear, are but a thin facade. Behind the facade clambering desperation gnaws away, and sooner or later the facade will collapse.

There is only one solid ground of authentic self-worth, only one rock which nothing can erode: God.

God secures our value. God names the price, once and for all, paid in blood. You are very special; invaluable in God’s eyes.

As is often the case, what we hear in the Word of God today from Jesus functions both as law and as gospel.

It is law in that Christ is literally, directly calling us to be servants. He is stating clearly – set aside your assessments of yourselves and others, and stop trying to get ahead. Worry about being a servant instead, not for the sake of having favour with the powerful, but simply for the sake of serving other people. All other people.

Yet this word at the same time is gospel (good news), because what Christ asks of us, he has already done for us in even greater measure. When we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. The Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

Christ came for the first and the last, and everyone in between, and it is truly good news that we can give up that clambering desperation to be the greatest and just be at peace, as servants, together with a God who became a servant for us.

As I finish this sermon, let me ask you to picture in your mind the child that Jesus placed on his knee amidst his self-important disciples. See Jesus pick that child up. Imagine once again (or maybe for the first time) that you are that little child sitting on Christ’s knee.

Know that he accepts and values and loves you. On Christ’s knee you are infinitely greater than Governors General, or Nobel Prize winners, greater than Prime Ministers, Popes and Presidents.

Become the least, and you will become the first.

Amen.

Readings were 2 Samuel 22:1-4 and Matthew 7:24-29    

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Today we launch the Strengthening Project to keep this building standing tall into the future. As we kick off this Strengthening Project, there are four images I want us to consider.

The first image is the rock.

Both our Bible readings talk about the rock. In 2 Samuel we are told David speaks to God – David is praying. And David is a guy who names God by metaphor; every visibility reveals an invisibility.

And ‘the rock’ seems to be David’s favourite metaphor for God. Is it the metaphor you would use of God…?

If you think about it, the rock is not a very exciting metaphor. It seems low down on the scale of interesting and significant in the order of creation. In fact, is there anything lower…?

David is a guy whose relationship with God means he probably sees God in pretty much everything around him. And so perhaps, for David, he can see how the rock reminds him of God. And perhaps there are features of rock which David identifies in his relationship with God… …steadfast, dependable, solid.

And surely that is the meaning of the metaphor when we hear Jesus’ teaching in the second reading. The rock is where there is certainty, promise, confidence, …faith. Where David uses the rock as the metaphor for God, Jesus is more specific.

Jesus uses the metaphor of the rock for what…? …His own teaching. Yes, here Jesus is teaching about his teaching!

Preceding this reading Jesus teaches what is called the Sermon on the Mount – it’s a vision of what God’s Kingdom looks like for us, with us part of it all. Jesus teaches how faith in God has practical implications; a faith that is lived and shared.

Jesus doesn’t teach us how to be religious. Jesus teaches us how to be human. Listen again…

The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house… (v25)

Tough times come. And Jesus doesn’t promise triumphant immunity from problems… Jesus promises that a life, built on the vision embodied in his teaching, can stand firm and certain.

When I was in Boys’ Brigade I remember the motto ‘Sure and Steadfast’. And we would sing the hymn:

“We have an anchor that keeps the soul
Steadfast and sure while the billows roll,
Fastened to the Rock which cannot move,
Grounded firm and deep in the Saviour’s love.”

(the louder this is sung the better)

Tough times come in life, for all of us. Of course, we are thinking today of all the communities in the United States and the Philippines that are being hammered by the terrible storms.

In life there can be meteorological storms as well as many other sorts of storms. Jesus promises us that what he teaches is trustworthy and will see us through the tough times – when His teaching comes alive in our own living; when we put it into action.

In 1853 a small group of Christians in the (then) small city of Wellington, who trusted in Jesus’ teaching, put that teaching into action. And just a few years later (full of trust) they built on this bit of rock where you are sitting right now! T

he teaching of Jesus was alive in them and in the way they lived their lives. They built on this rock as a witness to their faith in the heart of this city. By building on the rock, they enacted their faith then ….and into the future.

We heard last week the way the Pressie Church in Myanmar regard land as essential to their identity as people committed to live and share faith in the place where they are.  The same could be said of those who built here.

The rock is a great image for this kind of initial founding action. The rock is the solid foundation, for our faith, our living, our community.

But, in reality, it’s more dynamic than the rock alone represents. The faith that is based on the rock grows. Faith is something planted. As the rock is helpful to express the firmness and dependability of faith in God, planting is helpful to express a more dynamic understanding of faith – that has potential; which God expands, and makes flourish.

So as well as the image of the rock, I want us to consider the image of the oak.

You may have heard how many of the old Cathedrals in Europe were built over hundreds of years. Those who first started the construction had long died by the time the cathedral was complete. The building of a cathedral was done by one community, in one geographic place, but spread over multiple generations.

In addition to laying the foundations for the cathedral, do you know what those early Christian communities would do? They planted groves of oak trees. They planted for the following generations, who would use the wood to construct the beams and trusses for the cathedral. 

They planted for the future – for those who came after them, whom they never would meet but wanted to provide for, passing on faith in a package that was practical, real and useful – buildings that would help others live the faith.

The oak trees they planted is an image – a three dimensional and relational metaphor – of how a community contributes to a common faith and purpose over many generations. That’s a pretty good image right?

There is another image I want us to consider – further to the rock and the oak. This third image is one that is more proximate –in fact it’s indigenous to this part of the world. The tōtara tree had many uses by ancient Māori, and one important use was for the construction of waka.

In his book Tōtara: A Natural and Cultural History (2017) ethnobotanist Philip Simpson recognises how Tōtara trees were prized by Māori.

Their durability, their usefulness, their role in waka, their appearance – the red bark with redness being a sacred colour, the bark resembling the fabulous moko of a chief, the chiefliness of the tree growing in the forest.

Tōtara trees were dynamic as resources that could be planted, tended and harvested; and dynamic in representing many aspects of community life as the practical reality where useful resources were expressions of responsibility lived in relationship with others.

One particularly significant example is how Māori would identify young tōtara trees that would potentially grow large enough to produce a waka. As these trees grew they would remove bark from one side. Doing so caused the tree to grow in a particular way. The edges around where the bark was removed would continue to grow, so that the tree curved around toward the scar.

You can see in this picture an example of this process. And the tōtara tree shaped this way is extremely well-suited to make waka – the large canoe essential in many aspects of traditional life.

Did this process take long? It would take two or three centuries for the tree to be formed into an ‘upright waka’, which would then be very carefully cut down and the remaining internal wood removed to make the tree fit for purpose.

Like the groves of oak trees in Europe cultivated for Cathedrals, groves of Tōtara were revered for the construction of waka. Māori even named these Tōtara groves and they were passed down genealogical lines.

Again, this is an image of a three dimensional and relational metaphor – of how a community contributes to the well-being of many generations – passing on this taonga to provide for the lives of others.

The final image for us to consider is the waka itself – the canoe made from tōtara.

Perhaps this is the most dynamic image of what we have considered so far. The waka offers us the metaphor of a vessel in which we are located together and journey forward.

Sometimes this journey together will be smooth sailing; sometimes the journey will be rough; sometimes we will all have to dig deep with our paddles to make necessary progress.

So, we have considered four images: the rock, the oak, the tōtara and the waka. Which one are you drawn to most?

…God our rock? and Jesus’ teaching as our firm foundation when tough times come (when this teaching is put into practice).

…The oak and the tōtara? as dynamic metaphors for the life that is planted on the rock – growing, nurtured, cultivated, passed on to subsequent generations , to provide for the well-being and flourishing of others?

…The waka? as the metaphor of the journey we are taking together – each making our contribution depending on the conditions.

I hope these images stay with you, as we think about our lives.

• What is it that we have inherited from others?
• What is it that we cultivate and grow together?
• What is it that we will pass on to those after us?

Let me conclude by repeating some of the words of that hymn I quoted:

Fastened to the Rock which cannot move

A good metaphor for God, but what we know is that the rock this building is on can move! And to be ‘fastened’ to this rock requires more than the foundations we are sitting on right now. So, by launching the Strengthening Project today, we are doing what needs to be done to ensure that this building continues to serve this community, standing tall as a witness to our faith in the city – now and into the future.

Amen.

Readings were Proverbs 1: 20–33 and Mark 8: 27–38

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In conversation, a question can open up new ideas, challenging the status quo. A question can turn a conversation in a new direction, raising new topics or issues. Even if a question is unanswered it has an enduring effect…. …Right?!

Like all Ordained Ministers, I have monthly Professional Supervision. This is a totally confidential meeting with someone who assists in reflecting on your situation.

A good supervisor often works with a superbly insightful question. “Why did you do that?” What other option might there be?” A good supervisor seldom tells you what you should do (although I’m sure they have an idea about what would be best). Instead they ask you a question, to get you to respond and thereby discover something new for yourself.

Billy Connelly says that questions work well with the police. He says the best thing to confuse them is ask them a question:

“Can I help you officer?!”

It’s not what they expect. They don’t know how to respond – it throws them. Even if you’re naked on the supermarket roof at 3 in the mornin’…

“Can I help you?!”
“Wha…?  Wha…?”

A question can take us away from what is usual. And an insightful question can lead us to new discoveries.

Jesus used questions a lot in his conversations with lots of different people. The questions Jesus asked often addressed a specific area in peoples’ lives. His questions were able to identify what was going on in people’s inner life – where there is inner conflict or hypocrisy, doubt …and where there is a mustard seed of faith germinating.

Matthew 9:4: But Jesus, perceiving their thoughts, said, “Why do you think evil thoughts in your hearts?”

John 5:6 When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?”

Matthew 12:34: You brood of vipers! How can you speak good things, when you are evil.

One author has said

Jesus is too much the Jewish prophet to merely stabilise the status quo with platitudes. [Answers] give us more of a feeling of success and closure…  (Richard Rohr)

Questions allow God to change us.

In today’s Gospel reading, what’s the question Jesus asks?

Who do people say that I am?

And Jesus goes on, asking a more specific question of his disciples – not just who do ‘people’ say that I am… But

who do you say that I am?

This question contrasts the belief of others with the belief of the disciples – with an emphasis here on the ‘you’. By stressing the confession the question identifies those who acknowledge the true identity of Jesus, the Christ. Peter’s response is

You are the Messiah.[1]

If we answer that question the same as Peter, what are the implications for us? This morning, we’ve addressed our prayers to our “Lord”, and sung “O Lord my God” – these are acts of worship that express our loyalty.

What are the implications of our loyalty to Jesus our Lord? Yeah, that’s right… I’m going to mention our new Mission Statement again (I can’t help it!)  Our Mission Statement, outlines HOW we live and share our faith:

We live and share

• We participate in God’s mission.
• We serve others and share our faith by living and proclaiming hope.
• We help people to live fully as Christ shows us.

How?

• We practically and spiritually care for those in need.
• We are hospitable; we share homes and meals with others.
• We proclaim our faith with word and action.
• We pray with and for others.
• We allow our whole lives to be shaped by our faith.
• We speak truth in love (Ephesians 4:15) on issues of social and global justice.
• We trust in the Holy Spirit, discerning together the will of God.

Furthermore, we continue to be guided by God’s Holy Spirit in our lives. And one such way, that God’s continues to speak to us, is through scripture.

So, (to come full circle) we can look at the questions Jesus asked, and consider how they may change us.

Mark 3:4: Then he said to them, “Is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the sabbath, to save life or to kill?”

Luke 10:26: He said to him, ”What is written in the law? What do you read there?

Luke 12:25: And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life?

John 13:38 Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me?

Finally…. Another question from today’s Gospel…

³⁶For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?

‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. ³⁵For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.

To God be all the glory!

Amen

[1] Curiously, this response receives no acknowledgement from Jesus. It is not recorded by Mark. Perhaps Mark figures it was the obvious truth about Jesus’ identity, if you’d been paying attention to the story up to this point!