Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 28 February, 2016 Lent 3

Readings:  Isaiah 55:1-9 ,  Luke 13:1-9

We pray: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our rock and our redeemer.  Amen

If Jesus had a stall in the market place, offering his particular wares, would we stop?  Would it draw our eye, engage our interest?  Would the shout of  “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.” - would that shake us out of our regular routine I wonder?

It would be a novelty in any market place - where everything has its price and competing voices try to gain our attention and our dollars.  Jesus then continues to pull them in, speaking of  the richness of the food offered, food and drink that satisfies, covenant that is beyond all that could be hoped for, abundant mercy, hope-filled living.  Just turn back to me.

But the people Isaiah was speaking to might realise all too well that following God actually is not the unfettered, lovely experience that some might hope for and expect.  The people are in exile, in despair, and might be excused for avoiding that particular part of the market.  But they don’t – because they know from experience that God loves them and that Isaiah is preaching a very familiar message – that of repentance and promise of God’s mercy.  It’s not the first time they have been reminded to turn back to God from false ways, invited back into right living, and it won’t be the last. 

But for me today the really important words in here are ‘For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.’

And I wonder how often we mis-interpret what it is that God is asking of us because our vision and our understandings are limited to our own conclusions rather that the ‘higher’ ways and thoughts of God?

Because we do and can get hold of the wrong end of the stick, especially with things like judgement and right relationship with God.  As did the people of Jesus time.

In today’s Gospel reading from Luke, Jesus is trying to right some commonly held assumptions of the time and also wanting to challenge his followers and us to come nearer to God’s ways than the ways of the world.

He is talking about a particular cultural understanding that is quite deeply embedded even now - that bad things happen to those who have done something wrong, that disease and disaster and ‘wrong place wrong time’ is God’s judgement on the wicked and that those who avoid calamities must have repented and are living well with God.  Throughout time you can see this thinking- and it was certainly the assumption of the disciples – in John 9 ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?’  In Job the advice of the friends to confess and then everything would be alright.  In the accident at Siloam, what had they done to be so punished?  And today we still think if life goes bad then it must be some kind of punishment for bad living. Phrases like ‘what did I do to deserve this from God?’ when something goes wrong and disasters being called ‘acts of God’ simply encourage this idea of a God who hands out punishment from on high, whether intentionally or quite randomly.  And in fact we carry this even further into our attitudes, for instance the ability to disregard the homeless or the jobless for it is in their own hands to do something about it and they probably did something to deserve it.  It is not uncommon for people to think this as an excuse for inaction.

And Jesus is telling us that this is bad theology.  That no one is perfect, all of us need God’s grace and mercy, and life is not easy nor fair, whatever path we chose to take.  Repentance doesn’t make us financially secure and materially comfortable in this life in the way we would think of it – good health, safe living, security and influence.  Coping with a bad patch doesn’t mean we are abandoned by God or living out some kind of penance for evil deeds.  God’s thoughts are higher than our thoughts remember. 

Repentance, rather, to me is about living within God’s encompassing love and mercy and, because of that, because we know that we are loved and forgiven, here is the big thing, we are empowered to live in the way of transforming grace and mercy to ourselves and others – and amazing things happen.  We become givers, not just takers, we embrace not push away, we engage rather that isolate, we stand strong in faith in the midst of desolation and accept that vulnerability is strength and love is stronger than hate and anger and injustice.  And that Gods ways are not the ways of the world.

So what is God’s way for the future of the Presbyterian Church here in the south - I was at my first meeting of the Ministry Workgoup this last week and it struck me quite forcibly that, like the people Jesus was challenging, we too need to be re-thinking or thinking bigger and bolder about what it means to be the people of God here in the Southern Presbytery.  While there are stories of wonderful ministry, hopefilled futures and exciting new relationships, there are way too many other stories of despair and circling the wagons and just plain meanness and toxicity all in the name of Christ.  How could we have lost our way so completely?

There are times when our church acts like a big company putting measurable results and financial viability before relationship and mission.  Hunkering down within four walls and using every bit of energy to maintain those walls doesn’t seem to me like a covenant of love and richness and mercy.

And equally feeling people are a second class church if they can’t have a ‘Minister’ and maintain a building is just plain wrong.

We have to embrace broader thinking and diverse methods as we continue to be Christ’s people – and it is happening and it is exciting.  But I think that the story of the fig tree might just provide a couple of pointers for us to think about as we negotiate this really very turbulent and changing time for the church.

Manure – I like the analogy – we are to fed with the word of God, in the power of the Spirit, guided by the tender hands of the gardener for, tended well, we will provide fruit.  We are not to give up, not to wander in on our biannual visit and pronounce sentence of death to that which appears to be struggling but to nurture and engage and have faith in God working and present in the garden.  The gentle touch of compassion – the way of God, not our way.

But – and there is a but – there is a time when that care is not going to be effective – the tumbling down building, the ingrained meaness, the absence of the Christ in the so called Christian.  Then it is time for a new way, for Christ to be made known in a new planting which will bear fruit for a God whose ways and thoughts are beyond our understanding but in whom we trust and are held.

 “Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.”

Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
and your labour for that which does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. 
Incline your ear, and come to me;  listen, so that you may live.

I would like to finish with a song – a poem by Digby Hannah - Deeper River

There’s a river running deep within the silence of our souls,
Where the quenching healing waters carve their art
At its source a spring of living water surging and sustained,
It’s the voice of Jesus waiting for the listening of our hearts.

Sometimes the river of our life winds wandering away,
sometimes the rapids tumble restlessly,
Comes the time to stop and find the deeper river running strong,
to drink refreshing waters, and hear the spirit’s song.
Hear the call to thirsty people, there’s no need to thirst again,

To the weary come, beside still waters lie; full of goodness, full of mercy our cup will overflow  when the call of that deep river is a voice we’ve come to know.                                                    Digby Hannah.

Margaret Garland