Readings were Isaiah 43:1-7 and James 3:5b-12

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A great preacher once started his sermon by saying

Show me a coin… (Luke 20:24)

So, emulating greatness whenever I can… “Can anyone show me a coin?”

When I was a kid my Dad would always have a consistent response whenever he would hear there was a steam locomotive doing excursions. I think what he got us to do went back to his own childhood. We wouldn’t ride the steam train – so what did we do? We would go to where we knew the train would pass by and place coins on the track!

We took part in this family ritual with great delight, as once the train had passed we’d then collect up the coins – which were well and truly deformed. They become flat and elongated; the original minted images gone from the enormous pressure exerted on them.

This act of deformation introduces the theme for this sermon. Last week Rev Dr Rebecca Dudley preached about transformation, and next week we will hear about reformation. TRANSFORMATION – DEFORMATION – REFORMATION

The truth is deformation is part of our human experience. Most of us have experiences of being ‘bent out of shape’. We know when things aren’t the way we feel they should be.

We see the deformation in the world; and we feel the deformation inside ourselves. As one author puts it:

We are creatures who don’t get to decide what we are,… who always pull several ways at once.

It’s an insight that can be restated in radically different analytical terms, and still have the same implications for experience.

You can put it as Freud did, and say that there are uncon­scious processes which resist and subvert conscious in­tentions.

You can think of it in terms of evolutionary biology, in which case one of the best expressions of it is the geneticist Bill Hamilton’s wonderful description of the human animal as

an ambassador sent forth by an unstable coalition.

Or you can quote the Apostle Paul:

What I would not, that I do. What I would, that I do not.

Wher­ever the line is drawn between good and evil, between acceptable and unacceptable, between kind and cruel, between clean and dirty, we’re always going to be vot­ing on both sides of it, despite ourselves.[1]

Many of us don’t like to think too much about our own deformation, and some may not admit to our own deformation at all. But, as I heard someone put it: at times we all feel that there is some black in our colour chart.

Acknowledging this can actually help us. Admitting there’s some black in the mixture makes it matter less:

• preventing the dark blot swelling,
• and enjoying the rest of the mixture of colours that we each are.

Acknowledging the deformation has always been a crucial aspect of Christianity and the commitment to truth-telling about the reality of ourselves and our world. Acknowledging the deformation (the distortion; the blurring; the disfiguring that we feel – and don’t feel) gives us a way to deal with our guilt.

Did I say ‘guilt’? What a very unpopular word to use! This is the sort of word critics of sermonising would say is clichéd for what they see as the sort of moral ranting that has no place in a rational, progressive, secular society.

Let me tell an old story of a man that felt guilty – and not many people would want to deny his feelings as legitimate. The man traded in human misery; inflicting huge suffering for his own financial gain. He transported cargoes of kidnapped human beings, in conditions of great squalor and suffering, to places where they and their children and their children’s chil­dren would be treated all their lives as objects to be bought and sold and brutalised. He was a slave trader. And he wrote these words:

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me. . .

John Newton knew he was a wretch; his guilt; his deformation. And who would want to talk him out of this? Who would deny that he was a participant in one of the world’s great crimes, comparable to the Holocaust? I only found out recently that John Newton wrote ‘Amazing Grace’ before he gave up slaving! Did you know that?

As someone said about this fact:

“[John Newton must have felt he had] already seen the stuff he should be worry­ing about—booze and licentiousness, presumably, and playing tiddly-winks on the Sabbath, … running his slave ship with a swear-box screwed to the mast.

In the Holocaust analogy, it’s rather as if a death-camp guard had had a moral crisis, but over cheating his col­leagues at poker, and then continued to come to work stoking the ovens, while vowing shakily to be a better person.[2]

But once able to acknowledge his guilt, John Newton gradually recognised the dark, accurate visions of himself; it went on changing him, un­til eventually he could not bear the darkness of what he did daily, and gave up the trade, and ended his life as a remorseful campaigner against it. The guilt (and more importantly the Amazing Grace) allowed him to recognise the deformation in himself and discover his full neediness.

While the guilt of John Newton is obvious, he is not the exception. The deformation is something we all experience. None of us are unblemished. Here is a description by John Bunyan in the 1660s:

Thus did I wind, and twine, and shrink, under the burden that was upon me; which burden also did so oppress me that I could nei­ther stand, nor go, nor lie, either at rest or quiet.

And here is a description by the psychologist William James in 1902:

The normal process of life contains moments as bad as any of those which insane melancholy is filled with, moments in which radical evil gets its innings and takes its solid turn.

This understanding of deformation attributable to sin has been described in many ways:

The Bible presents sin by way of major concepts, principally lawlessness and faithlessness, expressed in an array of images:

sin is the missing of a target,
a wandering from the path,
a straying from the fold.
Sin is a hard heart and a stiff neck.
Sin is blindness and deafness.
It is both the overstepping of a line and the failure to reach it|
— both transgression and shortcoming. …
Sin is disruption of created harmony and then resistance to divine restoration of that harmony. …
Sinful life, as Geoffrey Bromiley observes, is a partly depressing, partly ludicrous caricature of genuine human life.[3]

The experience of deformation that sin brings will feel different at different times – that’s why scripture uses these differing images. They are glimpses of the big universal problem. And today we have heard the problem of sin expressed in the letter of James…

The author focuses on the damage the human tongue can do, but this is symptomatic of our comprehensive deformation. And there is an important reference in this passage that deserves our attention:

With [our tongue] we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse those who are made in the likeness of God.  (James 3:9)

“made in the likeness of God” This reflects a profound belief expressed through scripture that all of us are made in God’s image. (Genesis 1:26-27) What does this mean? This is about describing the generous creativity given uniquely to human beings, connecting us to our Maker. We are distinct from God (we’re not the same) but we are created with a likeness – we bear God’s image.

If a coin bears the image of Queen Elizabeth II it represents something (visually) about her. And if that coin gets run over by a steam locomotive, that image can be lost. Which begs the question: to what extent does the deformation we suffer affect the image of God in us? Does the deformation destroy the image of God in us completely?”

What most theologians would say is this:

to recognise we are made in the image of God is to say we are been created with a purpose.

Sadly, the deforming effects of sin mean that the image of God in us is not a ‘given of nature’; it is not automatically apparent as part of being human. But there is One… One who dwelt among us… Scripture tells us

Jesus Christ is the image of the invisible God (Colossians 1:15)”

The image of God is accessible to us in the humanity of Christ, in whom the deformation of sin is overcome. And therefore, in Jesus Christ we recognise not only our purpose as made in the image of God, but also our destiny as the image of God.

In his humanity, Jesus relates to God as humans are intended to relate to God, and thereby fulfils the human destiny of being the image of God.

We are made in the image of God. It’s deformed (even ‘munted’) but God wants to fulfil the purpose and destiny given to us. God is deeply committed to this. And so when sin causes amnesia in us, we are told to remember.

This is how the prophet Isaiah speaks hope in today’s passage: remember. This passage begins and ends (bracketed) with statement that God is the God who formed people.

Remember that it is I who formed you.

Then there is a beautiful list of how God has expressed commitment to those God has formed…

(remember) “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.”…

(remember) “the flame shall not consume you”…“For I am the Lord your God, …your Saviour”…

(remember) “you are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you”…

(remember) “Do not fear, for I am with you.”

And again, leaping ahead a few centuries of human history, the ultimate expression of the costly commitment God has to rescuing us from sin – the extent to which God goes to deal with sin and its deforming effects – is seen (where?) in a person, in Jesus Christ. It’s been said that:

Christians have always measured sin, in part, by the suffering needed to atone for it. The ripping and writhing of a body on a cross, the bizarre metaphysical maneuver of using death to defeat death, the urgency of the summons to human beings to ally themselves with the events of Christ and with the person of these events, and then to make that person and those events the center of their lives — these things tell us that the main human trouble is desperately difficult to fix, even for God, and that sin is the longest-running of human emergencies.[4]

As those rescued from sin, we come to the meal prepared by our Saviour. As those who bear the image of God, and yet experience every day the deformation of sin, we know our neediness. And so we seek the nourishment of this holy sustenance. We remember we are made in God image, and are re-membered in communion. In this holy meal of Communion we are re-membered; formed into the Body of Christ by eating the Body of Christ.

Communion is a Church practice of ‘remembered hope’.

Deformation is not the final state of things. Jesus Christ is the image of God and in Him we find wholeness.

And we are each and all called to participate in this amazing grace.

[1] Francis Spufford, pp32-33.

[2] Francis Spufford, p36.

[3] Platinga Breviary of Sin p5.

[4] Platinga Breviary of Sin p5.

Readings were Psalm 104: 1, 10-35 and 1 Peter 2:1-2

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The theme of the Presbytery Gathering this weekend has been nourishment.

This theme is about us being fed: spiritually fed. Sometimes we can feel spiritually fed-up!   And so we can gather to encourage one another in our ministry and mission. And the three ways we’ve done this during the Gathering has been:

1. Sharing friendship and experiences as sisters and brothers in Christ
2. Openness to new insights about being the church in our places, and
3. Getting ready to do new things!

This is nourishment to one another. Of course all nourishment comes from God – that is the source (sauce). Nourishment is part of our Christian experience – at least, it’s meant to be!

Why can we say that with certainty? Why do we expect to be nourished?

It all starts with creation. The doctrine of creation is the belief that God created…everything; and that it is good. And creation is not static. So what do we understand about God’s ongoing activity in creation?

The doctrine of providence maintains that God; the loving, just and powerful God who created everything – continues to uphold, take care of (provide for) God’s good creation and each one of us.

If I ask where in the Bible we hear about God’s creation, what comes to mind? The start of Genesis…? There are actually lots of other descriptions in scripture of God’s creating. Tom McLeish, the Theoretical physicist who visited here a couple of years ago identifies 20 creation stories – all using different metaphors, pictures, and language. And Psalm 104, that we’ve heard this morning, is one of them.

In fact, in the NRSV this Psalm is titled ‘God the Creator and Provider’. We hear that the Psalmist recognises God’s creating activity (as an ongoing activity). God makes springs gush, God makes grass grow, plants for food and make wine (to gladden the human heart), to make oil and bread… And recognising God’s creating and providing, the Psalmist leads all creation in praise, for all goodness comes from God’s goodness, and is sustained by the very life of God.

Our other reading is more specific about how the providence of God (in Christ) nourishes us in our spiritual growth:

Like newborn infants, long for the pure, spiritual milk, so that by it you may grow into salvation— ³if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good.  (1 Peter 2:2)

Mammals suckle – the young of all mammals drink milk from their mother, forming a powerful bond between mother and offspring.[1]

Children (and sometimes adults) will put their thumbs or fingers in their mouths when anxious or in need of reassurance. There can be many ways we are reassured, but sometimes when nothing else is available, we taste our own body and draw upon that memory of the comforting other (mother).

Also have you ever burned yourself, or had a cut that you instinctively suck on? This ‘licking our wounds’ is something we have in common with animals as we try to ease the pain and heal the wound. Our mouths then can mediate comfort, reassurance and relationship; and our mouths draw us toward healing, wholeness and growth.

There’s a hymn (I wonder if you know it?) that goes…

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine:
O what a foretaste of glory divine!
Heir of salvation, purchase of God;
born of his Spirit, washed in his blood.

This is my story, this is my song,
          praising my Saviour all the day long.

Taste is a physical sense we have that enables us to take in the nature of something, and in our spiritual growth taste is something God gives us to commune with Him. And I want to share three taste sensations as metaphors for our relationship with God. (I’m grateful to Anne Richards for these reflections in her book Sense Making Faith.) I wonder which of these ‘tastes’ feels strongest for you, as a sense of your relationship with God at the moment.

Sweet

The way God speaks to us is sometimes imagined as a form of feeding. God’s word is delightful; so can be thought of as a delicious and sweet taste.

How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! (Psalm 119:103)

This is an image expressing God‘s word as delicious and sweet. When we encounter God’s word with our whole heart and mind – it enters into us and becomes part of us, as though we had eaten it!

God’s word dwells within us as a sweet sensation of spiritual delight and joy and strength.

Salt

Jesus says:

Salt is good; but if salt has lost its saltiness, how can you season it? Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another. (Mark 9:50)

Being salt is showing our loyalty and therefore being witnesses to the truth of God; when we are salt, people can ‘taste’ us amidst the cultures and other priorities in our society. And so salt shows us something about our relationship with God, and with others.

Being salt is about building friendship and showing the hospitality of Christ to all those around us to whom we are called to be neighbours.

Sour

The prophet Jeremiah declares:

²⁹In those days they shall no longer say:
‘The parents have eaten sour grapes,
and the children’s teeth are set on edge.’
³⁰But all shall die for their own sins; the teeth of everyone who eats sour grapes shall be set on edge. (Jeremiah 31:29-30)

The ‘sour grapes’ that ‘set teeth on edge’ provide an image of sinfulness – how it sours the world.

For Jeremiah the idea is that sourness indicates the death of sin that comes upon everyone. But the promise we know is that God desires reconciliation and healing – for the sour taste of the fragmented world to be taken away in order for all to taste the sweetness God has to offer.

Perhaps this helps us appreciate a detail in John’s account of Jesus’ crucifixion:

A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the (sour) wine (on behalf of humanity), he said, ‘It is finished.’ (John 19:29-30)

Although the world had gone sour through human disobedience and destruction, Jesus restores the sweetness of God. Can our spiritual journey be a delight in the sweetness God offers in Christ? And can our mission be a joining with Christ in sharing the sweetness with humanity, and indeed all creation?

Jesus describes the Kingdom of God in different ways. One way he talks about the Kingdom is as a feast (Matthew 22). And the problem we have (as Jesus warned) is that we miss out on the nourishment – and sheer joy – of this feast, because we are distracted. We don’t take the invitation seriously, we stick it on the mantelpiece and find other things to do.

Perhaps this is why Jesus instituted a regular feast, as a foretaste to this heavenly banquet. When we share in Communion we feed, we take in God’s Word, we ‘taste’ Christ. This tasting of bread and cup connects us with Christ and the story of God’s people, and this tasting provokes prayer and praise.

But hold on…

Remember I talked about the doctrine of providence? And how it assumes God continues to take care of (provide for) us? What about all the pain and evil we see in the world? Is the doctrine of providence naive in the face of cancer, the torment of mental illness, domestic violence, landslides and cars being driven into crowds?

The thing about the doctrine of providence is that it is not dependent on finding enough evidence to ‘tip the balance’ in favour of faith in God’s goodness. It is a Christian doctrine based on what scripture tells us about the presence and work of God in the story of ancient Israel and above all in Jesus Christ.

That story, of course, is not proof that there is a God who comes to be with and for us. It is a confession of faith. As a confession of faith it is not based on wishful thinking, but on what Israel and the first Christians remembered that God had actually done in their personal experience and in the history of their people, and what they therefore hoped that God would continue to do in the future.

To wrap this up (to pile everything on the plate!)…

We confess our faith as people who are part of God’s story.

We feast on God’s Word and the life of Christ through the Holy Spirit.

We have hope because we remember what God has done.

And we grow as we are nourished by the foretastes of the heavenly banquet – that God invites everyone to be part of.

Amen.

——-

[1] The Apostle Paul writes to the Christians in Corinth about how he “fed [them] with milk, not solid food, for [they] were not ready for solid food”. (1 Cor 3:2) But in today’s passage the metaphor is a different sort of milk. In today’s passage there is no sense that we move on from milk to solid food in our nourishment from the Lord.  All we need for nourishment is the pure, spiritual milk that is Christ himself. There is no more nourishing food beyond this. And so (as one scholar put it) we all are to long for this spiritual nourishment as eagerly as new-born babies do for physical nourishment.

Readings were Galatians 1:1-5 and Ephesians 1:1-15

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In part, my sermon this morning is an attempt to be accountable – having skived off to Indonesia during the achool holidays! And in doing so, I want to talk about exchanging greetings – and how this was a significant part of the cross-cultural encounter we had.

We should be honest and ask… in the Age of electronic communication, why go and visit people?

There is so much technology to allow communication at a distance: Skype, Facebook, Whatsapp, cellphones (which are much cheaper to use in Indonesia incidentally!)

Well, it does make a difference for most people. Any of us know that these technologies are no substitute for being together with loved ones. And I want to consider how particularly true this is for Christian communities also.

So we went to Indonesia to ‘Press the flesh’. (That’s not a biblical phrase – but ‘the Word became flesh’ is.)

Jesus shows us there is something significant about ‘showing up’. But we’ll come back to this point in a moment…

This morning, we heard the beginning of two letters from Paul (Gal 1:1-5 and Eph 1:1-14). We don’t look at the start of the NT letters (called ‘epistles’) much; we usually read past this greetings stuff at the start, to get into the meaty content of what was in Paul’s letters to the church communities.

Having heard both these letters of Paul’s from the start, I wonder if you heard what they had in common?  Let me read the starts of other letters from Paul, to see if you can identify what’s in common in the greetings Paul uses…

1 Corinthians 1:1-3: “Paul, called to be an apostle of Jesus Christ through the will of God, and Sosthenes our brother, to the church of God which is in Corinth, to those who are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all who in every place call on the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, both theirs and hours: grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

2 Corinthians 1:1-2: “Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, to the church of God which is at Corinth, with all the saints who are in all Achaia: grace to you and peace from God our father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Philippians 1:1-2: “Paul and Timothy, bondservants of Jesus Christ, to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are in Philippi, with the overseers and deacons: grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Do you recognise the common element in these greetings yet…? One more to drive the point home…

Colossians 1:1-2: “Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ by the will of God, and Timothy our brother, to the saints and faithful brethren in Christ who are in Colossae: grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

These ‘Grace and peace’ couplets are used by Paul in 13 of his letters in the NT. Scholars recognise that these greetings were very likely a convention of the time. But even if it is a convention, how does Paul use it?

The way Paul uses ‘to you’ (dative of advantage in Greek grammar) indicates Paul’s prayerful concern and encouragement for the communities to whom he greets. Indeed, the nature of these greetings echo the character of Christ – naming and celebrating connection and affection.

There is an alignment with the Kingdom – this is Kingdom connections in practice; a desire to live with unity among diverse Christians in diverse situations.

God connects with us in the love of Christ, and we are invited to connect with other believers, united by this same love and in the power of the Holy Spirit. So Paul, in his greetings, recognises the connection that is between him and his fellow believers. Paul also expresses the deep care he has; he is someone who recognises and values the different gifts in the Body of Christ.

We know quite a lot about Paul (the Greeter), but let’s remember for a moment the Greeted. They are identified by Paul as ‘marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit’. And it is only because of the care Paul has for those background workers (in greeting them by name in his letters) that we know anything about them.

Greetings can have this power of identifying, esteeming and encouraging each other.

So what about our trip – the Cross Cultural Encounter to Indonesia? It started with the commissioning here in our worship before we departed. This was deliberate. We weren’t just going on holiday. We went with a sense of being sent; taking greetings from here – as an expression of the connection we know we have (even with people none of us had ever met!)

We travelled as representatives of the Christian community here in this part of the world. Not with any ‘better’ or more authentic grasp of Christian faith than others, but (as Christians have always said) as ‘brothers and sisters’ of those who also know the love of the Father.

And so, when we meet with these people for the first time we exchanged formal greetings – on behalf of all YOU, and the whole PCANZ – to a church in Indonesia of 4 million (they all say “hi” by the way!)

And many times this was a profound experience of blessing. During one such exchange of greetings, one church leader, Doanal Sinaga, who has a regional oversight role in the church asked me to pray a blessing over his newborn baby, Josiah. He honoured me as a bearer of God’s love – a brother, not with ‘better’ faith or ‘closer’ access to God, but as a fellow servant called to the mutual ministry, the priesthood of all believers. That is a moment that will stay with me forever.

Exchanging greetings also included worshipping together – lifting our voices in praise, in our Mother tongues, expressing our respective cultures; the soil we are rooted in.

Our greetings included exchanging gifts. And this is something we wanted to do carefully – as people from a place of greater resources. We wanted to exchange gifts as an expression of connection (NOT transaction).

The greetings naturally expanded to conversation and sharing of our different experiences of living out our faith in our different contexts. This was enormously encouraging. And we each had insights into the context of the other; being able to see things with an ‘outside perspective’; with fresh eyes.

I suspect if we shared more time and the trust depended further, we could offer to one another critique about how we lived out our faith, pointing out blindspots where we can grow more in our faith.

The exchange of greetings on our trip was something we did:

• as people commissioned to go as representatives from the church community here to the church community there,
• that was a profound blessing for us,
• that allowed us to worship God together – unity in diversity
• that was enormously encouraging
• and offering insight – to their context and to some extent our own also.

And so we come back with greetings in return. From our own loyalty for Christ that we live in community here, we went there and discovered this is loyalty we hold in common – that is much more than rooting for the same sports team!

Our loyalty for Christ will be challenged in different ways in each of our contexts. And when we recognise and experience the loyalty for Christ we hold in common, this turns into solidarity. 

Jesus came so that we have Communion with God and with one another.

And as we think about our own neighbourhood, we celebrate the connection we have with St Mary of the Angels and how this is soooo good for us! Today, we go and have lunch with them to celebrate the way we care for each other in the solidarity we have in our common loyalty for Christ.

As those loyal to Christ, we dare not distinguish boundaries between ourselves and others (be it those of different ethnicities, cultures or even countries). We should be wary of voices calling to strengthen differences between us.

At the Keeping Faith in Politics event last week on the challenging issue of migration, the speaker Julianne Hickey made the delightful observation:

Many are enjoying the feast of encounter.

And so let me conclude with a final comment about exchanging greetings…

I think it’s necessary and important to say that the greetings we share with fellow Christians helps us with the mission we are called into. Our Christian connection with our brothers and sisters helps us practice and extend the grace and peace of Christ beyond the Church as we make connections with others.

Christian community stands in contrast to isolation. Wholeness and salvation are possible only in relationship. Mother Theresa once said that

The biggest disease today is not heart disease or cancer but rather the feeling of being unwanted, uncared for and deserted by everybody.  The greatest evil is the lack of love and charity…

If Christians really want to be co-workers with Christ – they ought to understand what God expects of them.

Let Christ radiate and live his life in them and through them.

AMEN

Readings were Genesis 18:1-15 and Matthew 9:35-38

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Sarah laughed.These visitors aren’t even obstetricians! It’s preposterous – the suggestion that I will have a baby when I’m so old.  It’s laughable.

The previous chapter of Genesis tells us that Sarah was 90 years old – when God’s messengers announced she would have a baby, no wonder she laughed!

God might just use all of us in ways we don’t always recognise at first.

And I want to be very clear for a moment: this passage reminds me that we must value all people as potential bearers of God’s goodness, …including older people. God does not impose limitations by categorising people – as we are prone to do (even to ourselves on occasion).

You may have heard that the End of Life Choice bill of ACT MP David Seymour has been drawn for debate in our Parliament this month. We must be ready to discuss and debate this, bringing our faith to engage seriously in the issues as New Zealanders. If we can take anything positive from the political shenanigans overseas, I hope it clearly demonstrates that we can’t assume what we think should prevail will prevail. If we are going to positively contribute to the way forward for all, it’s important to speak up for what we believe to be important.

There is a mix of opinions on euthanasia. I believe most people are motivated by compassion. And whilst I understand and the appreciate the argument about relieving suffering (by those in favour of euthanasia) an unintended consequence would likely be that others in vulnerable situations feel pressure to follow suit. The right to die becomes the duty to die.

And we have been reminded of the seriousness of needing to pay attention to issues of life and death this week.

Related to euthanasia is the issue of suicide. The UNICEF report this week identifies that New Zealand has THE highest rate of teen suicide among developed countries. http://www.stuff.co.nz/national/93705446/unicef-releases-damning-child-welfare-report

Reclaiming the commitment that every person is valuable clarifies these issues, and can generate creative initiatives to stand alongside people, especially vulnerable people.

Recognising the vulnerability of the elderly, the theologian Stanley Hauerwas said recently:

In societies like ours the primary responsibility of the elderly is to get out of the way.

[And] once aging becomes something you feel you want to try and cure, you know you’re in trouble. Because, if you can’t cure it, you’ll eliminate it.

As he looks forward to the future he states:

In 200 years, if Christians are identified as those people who do not kill their children or the elderly, we will have done alright.

As Christians, our grounding narrative (that is much greater than ourselves) shapes our character and how we live into the future. In Genesis we see God preparing these elderly people (Abraham and Sarah) for a future of covenant promise, a future of faith and blessing.

In the Gospel passage Jesus prepares his followers for a future of faith and blessing. His followers are being sent as Jesus has been sent. (Our participation in the life of the Holy Trinity was the focus of the sermon last week.)

In the person of Jesus, God is preparing us all for a future of faith and blessing.

Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’ (John 20:21)

Once again the Father-Son relationship establishes the contours of our relationship to God. To put it another way: Jesus’ relationship to God the Father is extended by grace to us, as children of God. I want to say a bit more about this and why it matters for how we are able pray, …but first let me comment a little on this ‘being sent’.

As Jesus is sent by God, so are we.

We are participants in God’s future.

Jesus shows us, and draws us in to follow him.

This is our task;  this is our purpose;  this is our goal.

The Latin word for ‘send’ is missio. So as those sent, we are missional people; the missional church. What does this look like? What do we do as ‘missional’ people?

If I say we are all ‘missional’ people I wonder what you imagine that means. It’s more varied and mixed than you might think. Someone I heard recently said that if we want to know what it means to be ‘missional’  all we need to do… is look at the mission Jesus demonstrated.

What did Jesus do? Jesus teaches, reaches out to people on the margins, confronts, heals – all these are aspects of Jesus’ mission – in which we participate.

This means that the passions and gifts we in the church have are affirmed by Jesus’ pattern of mission. We can encourage one another to express and work toward the goals Jesus has shown us.

Is being missional a task – like a massive piece of homework? Well, in a sense it is a task; we are given a purpose, and that will involve getting off our backsides and doing something!

The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few (v37)

But as I’ve said, we can encourage one another in this – in our congregation, and with Christians all over the world.

As John Allen reminded us here a few weeks ago: there is heaps to be done in the world, lots of challenges – which is precisely why it is a GREAT time to be a Christian! We are those who not only hope in God’s future, we believe we are moving into God’s future (there is a goal – what in Greek is called telos, meaning ‘end’ or ‘purpose’).

We are sent as Jesus is sent, and if we sit still we will miss out; we discover our faith on the move.

But I think the most encouraging thing I can say today about us being missional (being sent), is that we have direct access to the one who does the sending. We have prayer.

How do we pray? Again, this is not something we have to go very far to find out. The Bible tells us exactly what Jesus said when his followers asked him ‘How do we pray?”

He said to them, ‘When you pray, say: Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name, your Kingdom come, your will be done on earth as in heaven…’ (Luke 11)

Praying ‘Our Father…’ is not just identifying with the communion of saints (other Christians), but with Jesus. We are invited to pray with Jesus. Jesus calls us into his prayer-life with the Father, and so we too pray ‘Our Father…’

N.T. Wright says:

The Lord’s Prayer is not so much a command as an invitation: an invitation to share in the prayer-life of Jesus himself.

Jesus invites us to pray as a loved child of God the Father. Jesus invites us to participate in his prayer – the prayer of the Son to the Father. Prayer to the Father in the strength of the Holy Spirit joins with the eternal prayer of the Son.

I heard of a Dad who received a text message from his preschool daughter, which was about fifteen letter g’s and ten letter l’s and a dozen letter k’s. As soon as he saw it he knew who it was from. He knew she wanted to send him a message but didn’t know how. And he smiled in that moment, because he recognised that’s my little girl.

Like a garbled text from a child, God delights in our prayers as responses to God; God who wants to be known. Being invited into this kind of prayer-life is not just a privilege, it changes us; grows us.

Joining in the prayers of Jesus, praying that ‘your Kingdom come, your will be done on earth as in heaven’ aligns us with the ways of God; what we are seeking becomes a harmony between our hearts and God’s goals.

Recognising this means recognising our prayers will sometimes remain unanswered. We realise that God’s ways are above our ways; and that we actually want God’s ways to become our ways. By asking for God’s Kingdom to come, we are praying ourselves and our world into God’s future.

The harvest is plentiful, but the labourers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out labourers into his harvest.  (vv37-38)

Did you know that, other than the Lord’s Prayer, this is one of the very few times Jesus tells his followers what to pray for? And low and behold, those who told to pray this way are also the answer to the prayer – Jesus has been sent on God’s mission, and now he commissions them – they are sent as he has been sent.

And we are the ones sent today.

So, to sum up…

1. As those sent – our relationship with God is shaped by the relationship Jesus has with the Father.

2. We are missional – our gifts and passions are celebrated as expressions of the pattern of Jesus’ own mission he showed us.

3. We have a future, a purpose, a goal – there is much to be done.

4. And we are not alone – have a direct relationship with God, as we share in the prayer-life of Jesus.

I ask you to consider today: How is God preparing you (preparing us) for a future of faith and blessing?

Let us pray…

Loving and gracious God, thank you for sending us your Son and drawing us into your future. Give us courage to follow, and perseverance to remain faithful, so that the world will know your love and purpose. May our prayers join with those of Jesus.    Amen.

Readings were Psalm 8:1-5, Matthew 28:16-20 and 2 Corinthians 13:11-13

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God is a God of action…

Last Sunday we celebrated the outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Today is ‘Trinity Sunday’, and on this day we celebrate God, whom we know as Holy Trinity.

What do we think that means? Why do we describe God as Holy Trinity? There’s a hotel across right out these doors called ‘Trinity’ – but that doesn’t help us…because the Trinity is uniquely part of our Christian narrative. We might say: the Trinity distinguishes Christianity from any other religion – in how we understand who God is.

But how do we know anything about God? How can we be confident in describing God as ‘Trinity’?

Because God has shown us. The only way we know anything about God, is because God has shown us. We know God from God’s actions.[1]

God is a God of action…

And so far from an arbitrary and perhaps rather obscure theological conundrum, the Holy Trinity is all about action: doing, sharing, leading.

One example in my life might help us explore the true nature of the Trinity further…

My family and I know an elderly guy whose name is Strato. We met Strato when we first took our children to the Capital Trout Centre in Happy Valley. Strato is a volunteer retiree, and he loves to teach people to fish, especially children. And so beside the pond, Strato patiently casts the line with the fly on the end for the kids, standing with them, letting them hold the fishing rod getting the feel for the fly flicking on the surface of the water. Strato helps the child by letting them feel the tug when the fish is caught on the hook, and then helps them bringing the fish onto the land – always an exciting moment filled with both delight and terror (evidenced by the kids’ high-pitched screaming).

For Strato an important part of his teaching the children to fish is to show them how to quickly and humanely kill the fish once it is on the land. This task is undertaken with a blunt instrument called ‘The Priest’ (I guess because it’s giving the fish ‘last rites’). Strato insists that once he has shown each child what to do with the Priest, they must ‘finish the job’ themselves. This bludgeoning to death with ‘the priest’ is all part of the teaching of what it is to fish.

My children have come to really appreciate and trust Strato. What might this story about Strato helps us understand this morning?

Well, like Strato, the Holy Trinity likes to fish. Like Strato, God is all about doing, sharing, and leading. All done with generosity and actions of love. Strato’s actions help us further see what the life of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is like.

This Holy Trinity Sunday we have an account of something Jesus said that is only found in Matthew’s Gospel:

¹⁹Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, ²⁰and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.’   (vv. 19-20).

God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is at work: doing, sharing and leading; and now, we are encouraged to do the same. This is God’s work, Holy Trinity work.

And us…? We are invited into this ‘working group’.

Recognising this activity of the Holy Trinity avoids us treating God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as only proper names; static nouns; designated labels that make up an understanding of God like some sort of mathematical formula. More truly to themselves, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are full of doing, sharing, and leading.

God is a God of action:

• God created.
• God sent Jesus to save. Jesus lived, served, died, and rose.
• God’s Holy Spirit has breathed God’s life since the beginning of time and still blows today.

Strato is full of humility, and does not draw attention to himself – but he is without doubt the ‘centre’ of the Capital Trout Centre! He clearly loves what he does. But he does what he does for the sake of others.

We could say the same of the Holy Trinity. God acts in creation, in Jesus, and through the Holy Spirit for our sake and for the love of the world. God shares with us what is His.

Don’t we see this most vividly on the cross – as Jesus takes all our sin…and exchanges it for God’s forgiveness? And then, in raising Jesus from death…we get to share in resurrection life.

Then (but wait, there’s more!), through the Holy Spirit, promised by Jesus, God leads us forward; forward in The Way of his Son Jesus – which is the good news of his life, death and resurrection.

To put it another way… God’s activity makes us participants in

the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. (2 Cor 13:13)

As I mentioned, it is clear Strato is the centre of the Capital Trout Centre – but there is a whole community of people there who are part of all that is being achieved in the activity around the pond of fish. While I don’t know for sure, I believe there is probably a Trust in place there which enables those volunteers to share the vision they have:

To teach young people about the fundamentals of fly fishing …and to let them experience first hand the thrill of catching a fish. (!)

With the common vision and love for what they are doing, Strato and these volunteers work together, doing different jobs (maintaining the pond, preparing the fishing gear, gutting and cutting the caught fish), all with the same goal of helping children fish. The success lies not in any individual, but a community motivated by what they have experienced, what they love and what they can share.

Jesus calls followers to become a community to receive and pass on God’s love; to do so relying upon the power of the Holy Spirit to energise us as this community –  for whose sake…? For the sake of the world.

The good news of Jesus Christ spreads from 12 disciples to peoples and continents around the world. Last Sunday (Pentecost Sunday) that’s exactly what we celebrated: continues to be at work through the Holy Spirit promoting the Trinity’s love of sharing through communities like ours here and all over the world.

Just like Strato motivates others to participate, so does God. We are called to be part of the Holy Trinity’s work- sharing in the life of the Holy Trinity. We become the voice, hands, and feet of the good news. There is no doubt about it:  by sharing in the life of the Holy Trinity – of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – you are part of a community whose purpose it is to share this life with others.

The question for us today is how good at you at sharing? Jesus has called us to go and make disciples, baptising and teaching. Are we?

Today, Holy Trinity Sunday, provides a good day to think about what we are doing to bring God’s love, forgiveness, understanding, and faith to others – and what we are doing to nurture it in our own lives.

We share life through our words and actions. Gathering for worship sets a good example. What sort of example do we give if we sleep in or go golfing in place of worshipping God? Our generosity towards others can be a sharing of resources, but it is also a sharing of God’s love. Our avoidance and neglect of others in need is just the opposite.

When we open the Holy Scriptures and read, study, and share them with others, we foster understanding and growth. When our Bibles lie unused and gathering dust, we have all lost an opportunity to learn and grow.

I wonder if Strato looks at the children sometimes, wondering which ones will fall in love with fishing and will themselves become those who share the love of fishing with others.

God, the Holy Trinity, shares with us the amazing life of love that simultaneously embraces us AND sends us out to gather in others. The love we have been given is ours to share. Jesus has personally shown us God’s love, and his Spirit energises us to join in God’s action; the movement; to BE fishers of people.

AMEN.

[1] Some theologians warn us against trying to speculate too far about the nature of God beyond what God has actually shown us about himself – principally in the person of Jesus Christ.

Readings were John 14:1-7 and 1 Peter 2:2-10

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What do you hear in these readings?

There is one particular part I love in the Gospel reading. It’s a question asked of Jesus. And in the Gospels it’s always worth paying attention to questions, because they usually are remembered for good reason. The question is what Thomas asks Jesus.

Jesus has said to his friends: “you know the way to the place where I am going.” And Thomas replies with his question – and probably a genuinely puzzled look on his face

Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?

Not knowing the way can be a common experience when visiting a new town. I once heard Billy Connelly questioning why he ever had to learn algebra at school, and speculating on who might use and when. He said perhaps you might find yourself in a new town and asking for directions to the town hall. And the local person goes “Aye, well if you go down here and then turn when you get to the… arghhh! Okay… let’s say x = the town hall…”  Oh ‘forget’ it!

Jesus is talking to his friends about the way to a place where he is going; a place Jesus is going and they will go to. What is clear about how Jesus talks to them, and especially how Jesus answers Thomas’ question is that he is identifying himself as the way to this place.

This Gospel reading is one often used at funerals. I hope you can see why this would be that case. By knowing Jesus, we know our future – even beyond death. We have many examples in the Gospel of difficult sayings of Jesus; encounters he has with people challenging the status quo; raising the bar of expectation for faithful people. But this is not one of those moments. Quite the opposite in fact.

Jesus is reassuring his friends:

Do not let your hearts be troubled.

Do not let your hearts be troubled, because I’m getting a place ready for us to be together. Jesus is offering reassurance about the future. Our future is found in Jesus.

Jesus describes this future as the Father’s house, where there are many ‘dwelling-places’. The Greek word translated ‘dwelling places’ (v2) is the noun for the verb John uses a lot in his Gospel: ‘abide’. In the next chapter Jesus talks about “abiding in me as I am abiding in you” (John 15:4) and this experience of abiding has its fulfilment in a permanent abiding place, which Jesus has prepared. What characterises this place is the certainty of God’s presence because of Jesus: “so that where I am, there you may be also.” (v3). This is the future found in Jesus – a place of established and unfading relationship with Jesus – even beyond death.

Last Sunday Tara preached about how God is with us; God is for us. And this is another clear example of this truth. Jesus is present offering words of reassurance to his friends – but more than words, because he is talking about a future he himself is preparing:

I go to prepare a place for you.

Jesus assures them:

I am the way…

He is the way of the Cross and of Resurrection.

Jesus has done what is necessary for us to have a future with God. Jesus has died and been raised so that we can share in this also, and share in the reality of God’s future.

What is so significant is that Jesus does this for us, as sheer gift. Jesus initiates God’s grace before we are even aware of it: Jesus arrives into our world, choosing to come among us as one of us. Jesus goes to his death on the cross to achieve the rescue we cannot achieve for ourselves. Jesus says he is going ahead of us, to prepare a place in advance. Jesus prepares everything without our input and effort.

This unmerited favour by God manifest in Jesus is called ‘Prevenient Grace’.  It’s one of my favourite theological terms, because it sums up the wonderful motivation of God to instigate the divine plan for humanity’s gain. Prevenient grace has been defined as: “the priority of God’s gracious initiative on behalf of humans, displayed in the person and work of Christ, which precedes all human response.”

In other words, we don’t do anything that earns God’s love; God moves toward us first, and anything we do is a response to that free gift. Or to put it another way: “We love because God first loved us” (1 John 4:19) These are the words we used when we baptised Aaron this morning.

We love because God first loved us.

Does Baptism achieve God’s love? Does Baptism grant mercy that wasn’t already given to us? No. Jesus is way ahead of us. “I go to prepare a place’; “I am the way”. Jesus is leading us in the way that is him; …the way of love and mercy.

This is about the future that Jesus is offering us reassurance about; we can be confident that our future is found in Jesus. But how does a confidence in our future change things now? What does following Jesus in the way of love and mercy mean for us today? Our other scripture reading this morning makes this clear for us (1 Peter 2:9-10).

Have a listen again to how God’s prevenient grace is expressed:

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.

In order that…you may proclaim the mighty acts of him…

We are blessed with this identity as God’s own people, not to keep this blessing to ourselves, but to share the blessing with everyone else. We are to tell others the way!

What we have received by God’s grace others can receive:

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.

Let me wrap this up with a question… How do our lives make a difference? We can make a difference in many ways, but living for others is part of the divine purpose Jesus shows us, when we seek the way of love and mercy for everyone else. We proclaim this and we pray for those we know need love and mercy most. Later in John’s Gospel (Chapter 14) Jesus urges his followers to pray in his name:

If in my name you ask me for anything, I will do it. (v14)

And in this relationship he invites us to bring our experiences to him; the real stuff about ourselves (all the confusion, doubt, pain, misunderstanding and yearning) Jesus says ‘Give it to me. I will take. I will treat it gently. I will transform it into a future with me and by me.’

This future in Jesus we anticipate.

We anticipate it for ourselves and for others.

And the way of love and mercy Jesus leads us in, focuses our prayer.

And that’s exactly what we are going to do now…

Reading was John 20:1-20

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I just love the drama in this gospel story. Here it is, Easter day and Mary has gone to the tomb of the dead Jesus. She finds it empty and Simon and John have come and confirmed Jesus’ absence. While the other two disciples tear off, Mary remains in the garden, weeping the loss of Jesus. She is distraught and confused – the last few days have been horrific: Jesus whom she believed was destined to be so significant has been killed, and now his body has gone missing.

She looks up and Jesus is standing there – but she does not know it’s Jesus. She assumes the person standing there in the garden is…

…the gardener.

He engages her, asking why she is weeping. Mary reveals the reason: she has lost something; she has lost that which symbolises all that she has left of her teacher and friend: Jesus’ dead body. It has gone missing and she wants to get it back – with her face turned away, Mary asks this gardener help her with any information he might have about the lost body.

And it’s this very next moment that I love especially.

It’s a moment caught in this painting Saint Mary Magdalene at the Sepulchre (c1530s) by Giovanni Girolamo Savoldo. I saw this for myself hanging in the Getty Museum, Los Angeles.

What initially caught my eye: Amazing texture of light on her garment. Light shines across the folds, giving such a realistic appearance, it almost has a three dimensional look.

What is the source of the light? We can see the dawn sky in the background just getting light, so it’s not the sun shining on her garment. Is the light meant to be the glory of the risen Jesus?

If so, then (as we look at this scene) the risen Jesus would be by our right shoulder. Which means this painting captures the moment Mary is turning around – toward the source of light.

And what has made her turn? The source of a sound: the voice that speaks. The voice that speaks her name: “Mary!”

It’s such a powerful moment – just a moment. She’s seen Jesus but hasn’t recognized him, and it’s that instant that the risen Jesus speaks her name “Mary!”, and she turns.

Grief and fear and loss…melt away – recognition, restoration, regained intimacy of the one she loved. Jesus simply calls her name – MARY!

This painting can help us imagine that in that split-second moment she hears the familiar voice; that voice that had spoken so many times over the years with love and wisdom and compassion – the voice of her friend and teacher calling to her in intimacy; using simply her name.

Mary spins around instantly recognising the risen Jesus standing before her. What a moment!

Mary encounters the wonder of the resurrected Jesus.

Mary’s encounter with the wonder of the resurrected Jesus was in hearing… For others it was in seeing…

I want to show a clip from a movie that doesn’t portray a biblical account – but invites us to imagine what it might be like to see the man who had been crucified days prior alive. This movie RISEN, follows the story of the Resurrection as told through the eyes of a non-believer. Clavius, a powerful Roman Military Tribune, is tasked with solving the mystery of what happened to Jesus in the days following the crucifixion, in order to disprove the rumours of a risen Messiah.

In this scene Clavius is searching for those who claim that the Jesus – whom Clavius himself saw dead on the cross – is alive. Clavius is determined to put an end to these spurious rumours by tracking down those spreading such nonsense.

RISEN clip

Our imaginations can be captured by these encounters with the wonder of the resurrected Jesus at that time. Is the wonder stuck in the past? In one sense it is – that is where the surprise factor is.

Rainer Hirsch in his show ‘Classical Music Explained’ identifies Handel’s Messiah as one of the great pieces of Classical music. He says:

If you haven’t seen it – it’s about a guy who……..

He is killed by the Romans on a cross.

And I don’t want to spoil it if you haven’t seen it – but there’s a twist!

Despite the fact that we have heard the story, there is wonder which we ourselves enter into today. How might we have the joyous encounter of the risen Lord in our own lives?

The great scandal of the news of resurrection is that the humanity of Jesus has been raised to new life. The resurrection is not detached from Jesus’ humanity.

Jesus retold the [human] drama through himself, and therefore changed the ending.[1]

You know what it’s like seeing someone who is great at something? They make it look soooo easy (piano, trombone, gymnastics, netball). Their capability exceeds our own by leaps and bounds, and part of that is the seemingly effortless way they show their proficiency.

Having come among us as a human person, and raised in his humanity, Jesus shares the promise of resurrection life with us all; we are raised into this new life with Him.

We are not left simply looking at how wonderful Jesus is – he shares what he has with us.

How do we understand this exchange?

• Jesus taking our humanity AND
• sharing with us God’s glory?

We may seek to understand this and describe it in many ways, but principally we understand this exchange in relationship with Jesus – just like those first followers. Jesus shares this new life, by relating to those who know and trust him. Jesus is available to us, and is communing with us – as an ongoing reality; in living relationship.

Minister and author Eugene Peterson suggests that clinical descriptions of resurrection life (as abstract concepts) fail to see the resurrection as an open door through which the risen Christ comes to us. The life of the resurrected Jesus springs up in our midst; in the places we live and work, where we share food and journey with others. He shares fresh perspective and joy. His life emerges among people in unpredictable ways.

It is confusing and bewildering – just as it was for those first disciples. The risen Jesus startled Mary and transformed her understanding –  and he does the same with us. Resurrection life is not an intellectual concept to be grasped, but a gift to be lived. We are likely to miss this gift, just as Mary did at first, if we remain focused on our losses.

The resurrected Jesus is ready to engage us, calling us by name to lift our heads and take in the resurrection life he extends to us today. Do we recognise the loving tones of his voice? Do we perceive his loving presence among us? These loving encounters of Jesus are trustworthy and lead us onward. We, the resurrection community, are those who help one another recognise the risen Lord, and commune with Him.

And, like Mary, we do not stay holding onto Jesus, but are compelled by the encounter to spread this resurrection life with others. We appreciate anew the beauty of the world, the creativity around us, the friendships we sometimes take for granted, the spontaneity that can be encouraged, meals shared at which Christ is the host.

And so, as the resurrection community we come now to that meal which stands at the centre of our life together, the meal that is enabled by God’s hospitality and which is truly for us today: ‘transformation-by-resurrection.’ We encounter the bodyliness of the resurrection; the humanity of Jesus at the table together. And he is made known to us in the breaking of the bread. (Luke 24:35)

The risen Jesus is available to us; he has made it so in the power of his Spirit. The bodyliness of the resurrected Christ is among us, for us to share… His very body is made available to us in earthly elements of the bread and cup.

His resurrection life is shared with us, transforming us into…the body of Christ. We receive Christ’s body in communion and by doing so are renewed as Christ’s body.

This truth is indicative of the dynamic generosity of God’s resurrection life – it flows powerfully wherever his Spirit wills. The risen Jesus meets us here, sharing his resurrection life with us all. Hallelujah!

Amen.

[1] Beloved Dust, p72.

Readings were Psalm 118: 19-24 and Matthew 21:1-11

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I hope you are aware of the series of public discussions titled: Keeping Faith In Politics.  The deliberate double-meaning of the series title expresses the importance of resisting cynicism as well as recognising that our faith has an important contribution to make in human politics. And this second meaning of the title suggests that faith risks getting pushed out of politics.

Do you think this may be true?

Are you aware of attitudes that assume there is a division between faith and politics?

That these are distinct spheres that can not (and should not) have anything to do with the other? Where does this come from? Maybe it goes way back to that Roman Emperor in the 4^th Century who embraced Christianity, and ever since Christian theology and practice has shied away from ‘real life’ issues and focused more on the ‘otherness’ of our inner spirituality. Is the assumed preference to keep our faith interior and personal, rather than external and public? And if so, how does this influence what we do and say today on Palm Sunday? Are our celebrations all rather nice? Jesus perhaps becomes tamed by thinking of him (rather woodenly) filling a convenient gap left by the prophecies. If Jesus is simply ‘inserted’, to fulfil the waiting prophetic expectations, this sucks away his meaningful agency in these events which we proclaim today.

Instead, I wonder if we dare look at these events and see that Jesus was doing something intentional to provoke and reveal a new understanding.

Let’s assume this was Jesus’ motive… well what are his options? What does a young carpenter and rabbi do? He can’t win a war against the political and military powers. Anyway, he doesn’t believe in war. How can he awaken the people to his proclamation of a new reality, a new reign, a new kingdom?

Jesus seems to engage deliberately in a political act this day, in a public parody of the political and military rule. Jesus lampoons the ruling elite through this deliberate riotous parade; this joyful ‘military procession’ right into the city of Jerusalem. He invites people to draw their attention to him – not in his power and majesty, but in a parody of such displays – so as to provoke a political interpretation about who he is and what he prepared to do.

If you look at the passage again, you’ll notice his entry into the city of Jerusalem (which is the part we typically always focus on) is just the final three verses (v8-11). The bulk of this passage describes in detail the careful arrangements Jesus makes, telling us that Jesus has planned this event in advance. Jesus has arranged the donkey and established recognisable verbal exchanges for the pick-up. Jesus knows what he is wanting to do. He is intentionally orchestrating some provocative ‘street theatre’. This is a ‘flash mob’ – and if you know anything about flash mobs they take a lot of pre-organising and preparation!

And there’s a deadly serious purpose to what he does. Jesus enacts this parody of political and military power by starting deliberately at the Mount of Olives. For this is the anticipated location from where the final battle of Jerusalem’s liberation will start from. It’s here Jesus begins his ‘final campaign’.

But let us pay careful attention also to how Jesus enacts the deliberate parody of political and military power: the provisions he sends for are not the weapons of war but simply a donkey. Jesus goes to take the city of Jerusalem unarmed and riding a donkey. The donkey is the central prop in the careful instructions he gives in the preparations for this event.

What a sight he is! Coming into the city of Jerusalem riding on this donkey, sitting so low his feet possibly drag on the ground. There is no power and majesty here. His open display of humility casts off the way of power and domination. Without pomp and wealth and weaponry, Jesus identifies himself with the poor and the vulnerable.

His is a public display, a theatrical proclamation, that disorients the status quo. He provokes a reaction to himself – about who he is and what he prepared to do.

Look at me! I want you to see that I am bringing a new reign. And by coming right into the city where political and military power exert themselves I invite you to see the world in a new way and to live in a new way.

After arriving in the city, Jesus continuous to act subversively. He ransacks the businesses in the temple; relegates the paying of taxes to Caesar; and teaches new understanding about what to expect in the future.

Why does Jesus subvert the political and military powers? Surely to disrupt the assumptions about the inappropriate influence they exercise, and to reveal a great reality than hoped for, a deeper understanding than assumed, and more radical implications than dared hoped for.

What we know from the full events of Easter is that the hopes of the crowd that day will not materialise as they imagine. But the disappointment is replaced with nothing less than the salvation of all humanity – and they were right to look at the man on the donkey. The fullness of God’s salvation is indeed located in this person, who is easily mis-recognised.

The stone that the builders rejected
has become the chief cornerstone.  (Psalm 118:22)

Seeing such subversion of power might invite us to see our world in a new way and to live in a new way.

This week we have seen the grotesque use of chemical weapons against innocent people, and the appalling consequences on the fragility of childhood. As well as being shocked and disgusted, don’t we need to act to subvert the brutality of destructive power by unmasking and critiquing such attacks on humanity? Are tomahawk missiles the most imaginative response we can make? For we are invited by the donkey-rider to follow his way proclaiming and living out the truth of his new reality, his new reign, his new kingdom.

Do you remember the on your television screen a number of years ago of that Chinese man who placed himself in the path of the tanks that were rolling into Tiananmen Square? Is that similar to the image of Jesus riding a donkey into the city of Jerusalem? Is that what it can look like to confront the political and military power of our world?

Jesus leads us in new directions. Maybe we are not always as enthusiastic as the Palm Sunday crowd. Perhaps we are uncomfortable about this kind of ‘hoo-hah’. But there can be no doubt that the ‘donkey-rider’ calls his followers to refresh our commitment in new forms, to replace the presumptuous powers of our day with God’s paradoxical power of humility and compassion, as we seek justice everywhere and for all.

The politics of Palm Sunday invites us to have our assumptions disrupted and to re-examine what our commitment to follow Jesus looks like. And one way we can all be encouraged to act is by taking part in the Keeping Faith in Politics series.

At the first event of this series that kicked off last week, the question was asked “Who will you vote for?” A pretty standard question in an election year. But it takes on a different meaning if asking about for whose sake you will vote for. Will you vote for the poor? The vulnerable? The generations to come?

Have a look at the publicity flyer for the next event…The least and the last in a world of growing inequality. Is this image another one of what it might look like to confront the political and military power of our world?

Let me challenge you: Many of us are in unmistakable positions of privilege. And even if you don’t feel that you are, almost all of us are able to vote, and we enjoy freedoms and rights many, many people throughout the world do not.

Let us examine our assumptions, our privilege, the ‘emperors’ within us. Will you take that risk? Will you feel that discomfort? Will we challenge ourselves and our leaders: political, economic and spiritual? Will we challenge each other as a Christian community in how we practice our politics?

Let us do so with grace, but also with truth, as we challenge the empire we live in and our part in it. So that we may recognise the One who awakens us to see things as they really are, and invites us to commit more fully to live into the adventure of God’s Kingdom, right here in the city, and in the midst of wherever we are.

May God give us grace, courage and hope to walk his way.

Amen.

Readings were Exodus 17:1-7 and Ephesians 5:8-14

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Have you ever heard of a complaining congregation? Have you ever been part of a complaining congregation?

This passage from the book of Exodus is sometimes titled ‘The Complaining Congregation’ (it’s a title that makes all preachers a little nervous!)

This congregation is Israel. They have been liberated from slavery in Egypt, and now find themselves in the wilderness, lacking the basics for survival. As they get thirstier and thirstier their complaint rises:

Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?  (v3)

It’s an anxious question about physical survival. But it’s also a theological question. Underlying their complaining is a question about God. In the final verse of this passage we hear the concern that fuels their complaining:

Is the Lord among us or not? (v7)

They are anxious about where they are, and what their future is. “Is the Lord among us or not?” Perhaps we have asked ourselves this question.

The answer will depend on what you consider to be evidence of God’s presence.

The people of Israel were there:

1. when the plagues came upon their Egyptian oppressors – including the plague of death that for them, was a ‘passover’ experience
2. when they were liberated out of Egypt and from their generations of slavery
3. when they miraculously crossed the Red Sea
4. when manna fell from the sky for them to eat

And yet, they ask

Is the Lord among us or not?

What then was the proof of God’s presence? It seems to me that it’s: that God will do what they want. I think if they had a lamp they would be rubbing it to see if a Genie would come out – that’s how they are seeing God.

Despite the astonishing experiences of God leading the people of Israel on their exodus out of Egypt, they were a people conditioned by their experiences as slaves across generations. They were born, lived and died as slaves. And what were they conditioned by?  Making bricks. They made bricks …and made more bricks …and made more bricks.

As slaves in Egypt for so long, they had become a people used to making bricks. They were producers of stuff. And they didn’t (yet) know how to live another way. Maybe we feel the same. The people of Israel knew themselves as producers of bricks. And this conditioned them to see God in a similar way. They wanted God to produce for them.

If God produces; God is with us. If God does not produce God is absent.

In this kind of economy, God becomes a means to an end, just one cog in a machine of existence; one part of how the people see their lives constituted. God is pushed away from the centre of their identity, and replaced by their sense of their own life – this is recognisable as an act of idolatry.

We don’t talk these days much about idolatry. Idolatry seems a very Old Testament things; a very Exodus sort of thing (Ten Commandments, Golden Calves, and stuff).

The people of Israel are clamouring under a burden to save themselves. This is a different slavery, a self-imposed slavery. They are complaining from their own sense of what they feel they don’t have; they are complaining about what they define and identify they lack.

Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?  (v3)

They are concluding what is going to happen to them.

• They are looking at their own sense of lack.
• They do not see the evidence of God’s presence they require.
• And so they make their own conclusion about what their fate is.

In it all they have pushed God away from the centre of who they are. Don’t we risk the same, in ways we can also push God away from our centre of gravity? If we are honest, a lot of the time we trust in ourselves or mechanisms of support.

• I earn enough to afford that.
• I’ve saved enough in my superannuation fund.
• I’ve got insurance.
• I can sell something, or borrow.

And, if we do turn to God, we speak to God like He’s our ‘sugar Daddy’, only praying to get stuff from God. Our prayer becomes reduced to a list of requests, for God to ‘produce’ for us.

We are in the season of Lent. Lent is a time of spiritual renewal. As we journey toward Easter we are encouraged to take time to refresh our relationship with God. And traditionally this renewal has been a season of intentional reducing, abstaining –  creating different patterns for spiritual examination and reflection. Lent can be a time when we renew our trust in God; resisting our tendency toward independence by cultivating an appropriate dependence on God. During Lent we can attempt to strip back the layers of our complex lives to re-engage with God more honestly, more openly, more simply. Lent invites us to move the expectations of the dominant socio-economic powers from the centre of our lives and come to terms with the commands and promises of God Almighty. Like Israel, we are being led to trust miracles that the empire judges impossible.

I wonder how you feel toward this ‘complaining congregation’? Maybe you have experienced constant complaining by those who cannot see what has been done for them… If you’re the parents of a teenager, you’re more likely to have experienced this! Whether or not we think the congregation was justified in its complaining, God hears them and addresses their immediate need. And whilst we have already noted the risk of our prayers becoming lists of requests, we can be confident that our prayers are always heard.

Our prayers reach God through Jesus Christ. For Jesus has ascended to God the Father in his humanity. And so we come before God not because of our own merits, but because of Jesus’. This is why we pray “In Jesus’ name”.

I want to pause here, so we can sing. As I was saying with the children earlier, we often sing what we believe. And this first verse of an old classic hymn expresses well what we’ve been reflecting on.

What a Friend we have in Jesus,
all our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
everything to God in prayer!
O what peace we often forfeit,
O what needless pain we bear,
all because we do not carry
everything to God in prayer.

If you feel an anxiety about ‘Is the Lord among us or not’, if you have a burden you carry about a constant sense of what you lack, if you are in despair because of a significant loss, if you worry about your future… Then I hope you hear the Good News of Jesus Christ afresh today through God’s word.

Because we can be set free from the anxiety that God only hears us if we pray a certain way (mastery) or with a certain level of conviction. Because it is in Christ that our prayers matter, not our efforts.

Our faith is not in our own efforts independent of God, but in the One who came among us and carries our humanity into an eternal posture of dependence before God. We come before God in our true need, and we are accepted.

For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light.
Live as children of light. (Ephesians 5:8)

Amen.

Readings were Genesis 3:1-13a and John 21:15-17

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Here’s my passport. It shows the stamps of places I’ve visited. But perhaps most importantly, it shows where I’m from; my passport shows that I’m a New Zealander. This is the place where I am.

Where are you?

There can sometimes be uncertainty about where we are. Especially if someone is hiding…

Batman clip: “Where are you?”

“Where are you?” is the question we hear God ask in the first of the readings today, from Genesis. “Where are you?” is the first question God ever asks humanity.

Unlike those playing ‘hide & seek’ with Batman… the answer doesn’t actually add any information to some lack of knowledge on God’s part. It’s a question about the state of relationship.

After their surreptitious meal and frantic dressmaking, Adam and Eve hear the sound of God walking in the garden. But after eating what they shouldn’t have, nearness to God has gone from a joyful experience to a shameful experience. They feel guilty, and so they try to hide. They feel exposed, and they try to cover themselves with leaves. Their strategy was to hide and cover.

Adam and Eve, in so many ways represent all humanity – every one of us. We all know what it feels like; to have light reveal dark places we’ve been trying to hide and cover.

As a Minister, I know that sometimes when people don’t come along to worship, it’s because they feel guilty about something and are trying to hide and cover from God.

The Psalm (139:7) says:

Where can I go from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?

These are words of great comfort – unless you are trying to hide and cover from God.

My kids love to play Hide & Seek. But, if I’m honest with you, they are pretty rubbish at it. Whenever I’m the ‘seeker’ I barely get a chance to call out “Where are you?” because they call out “We’re here!” They are unable to conceal their hiding; they are so excited and love to be ‘found’. My kids understand the real joy of Hide & Seek is not in hiding, but in being found. They love for me to see them and scoop them up.

This is in such contrast with how they act towards me when they feel they have done something wrong. When that’s the case, my kids ‘hide’ by leaving the room, by avoiding eye contact, by changing the topic – they fear exposure.

My kids have noticeably different postures when playing Hide & Seek with me, and when they feel they have done something wrong. One is a posture of exposure and embrace, the other a posture of shame and avoidance.

‘Where are you?’ is a question about relationship. It’s a question about our posture; our stance or our place – in relation to God. And we feel it in our hearts; where we are in our relationship with God. Sometimes we know in our hearts we are somewhere we should not be. And we may be trying to hide and cover.

God knows that we have got lost. And God invites us to come out of our hiding; to reveal our need, and have our need met in Him.

I can remember as a child, playing at my friend Craig’s house. His house was on a steep hill directly above a road. And this one time we were standing above the road throwing lumps of clay rock down onto the road, loving the way they ‘exploded’ on the asphalt and the dust would spread out. The higher we lobbed the clay into the air the further they took to come down, reaching impressive speeds and thereby making a better impact on the road.

One lump of clay had been lobbed up when our hearts froze at the sound of a car approaching. It was a police car! Now… I can’t recall who threw the clay, whether it was Craig or me, and, to be honest, I can’t even remember if the clay hit the police car. To us, it didn’t matter. We knew this was bad! So what did we do? We tried to hide and cover. In fact, we hid inside under Craig’s bed for over half an hour. Our little hearts pounding, as we anticipated any moment the arrival of the police. They never came. But that feeling of terror and wanting to hide away still feels pretty fresh!

Where are you?

Where are you today…in relation to God? Your answer doesn’t add any knowledge to God’s understanding. God knows where you are. The question invites you to be honest with yourself. The question ‘Where are you?’ invites you to look at what decisions you have made and where your loyalties are. Our loyalties are often expressed by our decisions of how we use our time, our resources, who we hang out with – and who we don’t hang out with.

I haven’t said anything about today’s Gospel reading.  And I want to conclude with this, because it’s about Jesus dealing with Peter’s guilt and how he helps Peter be honest.

Why is Peter feeling guilty? Well, a few days earlier when his teacher and friend Jesus was being carried off to be killed, Peter was standing beside a charcoal fire and denied he even knew Jesus – three times. In today’s story, beside another charcoal fire, the risen Jesus is (kinda) asking Peter “Where are you?”

The question Jesus actually asks is “Do you love me?”

Jesus invites Peter to look at the decisions he’s made and where his loyalties are. Jesus asks the question three times, correlating to the three denials on the night Jesus was carried off to be killed. Perhaps the smell of smoke reminded them both of the agony of that night – the agony of Peter, and the agony of Jesus. And it is the agony of Jesus that enables Peter’s agony to be dealt with. Jesus is “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” (John 1:29). Jesus takes away Peter’s sin, your sin, my sin.

Jesus doesn’t allow Peter’s guilt to remain hidden; he calls it out with a voice of loving invitation. Jesus goes to where the pain is – like a dentist dealing with a toothache someone can no longer bear. Jesus exposes the reality of sin and the light of his grace floods with warmth into the dark cold places that need him most.

Our strategies to hide and cover offer no redemption at all. But if we hear God asking “Where are you?” and we respond “Here I am Lord” then, like Peter, we can receive forgiveness amidst our story of sin and discover restoration in that willingness to be honest.

God loves us and won’t leave us lost; God wants our company. Peter’s experience can be our experience; and his words our words:

Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you. (v17)

And, like Peter, the restoration calls us to do a job. Jesus calls us to join in the shepherding work – sharing his ministry, the enacting of God’s purposes. We are to go where Jesus goes; to be found where Jesus is. And that is a VERY exciting adventure indeed!

Amen.