‘An early morning walk’ by Ann Siddall[1]
Readings: Isaiah 40:27-31,
Mark 1: 29-39
Let us pray: may the words we hear speak to heart and
mind, that the purpose of God be known among and in us more clearly, the power
of God encourage us and the peace of God strengthen and fill us with hope. Amen.
What is our
purpose as a congregation, as a Parish, as the body of Christ in Opoho? Huge question, simple question? Obvious answer or convoluted answer?
It was just this
question that engaged various people on Tuesday night as the Presbytery
resource group of Dunedin and North Otago met.
We were seeking to open up possibilities of the ways to be church, the
differing models of ministry and parish.
There was one
thing that particularly struck me – we had the phrases down pat (and fairly
uniform) when it came to what we did looking inwards – to glorify God in
worship, knowing and following Jesus, deepening faith, supporting each other –
but when it came to what I would call looking outwards, the surety of phrase
dropped off a bit and there was a bit less uniformity – we talked of living out
the Gospel and being the body of Christ in and serving community but you could
tell there was more familiarity and comfort in the inward – the safety of the
known and the predictable. And that is
at is should be – a sense of belonging, a safe place to explore our faith, ask
our questions, be at peace. Nothing
wrong with that, in fact very important – except that we also need to embrace
the looking outward. Jesus, whenever he
teaches and tells his stories, always ends with some variation of ‘so
that.....’. Our growing in faith, our
worship, our congregational life together is essential – so that – we can then
share that faith, that service with the needy and vulnerable in the often
uncomfortable and unknown situations that Jesus calls us into.
I want to share
with you a story and, as we listen, I would ask that we think about the times
we have found ourselves in uncomfortable situations, where we have felt
inadequate or scared or unworthy – and then to hear how this story speaks to us
of two things
-
the
ways Christ hears our panic and responds to our fear, reminding us of his
unfailing grace and the peace of his presence in every moment.
-
The
ways that Jesus finds spiritual strength and focus for hard decisions on how he
best serves God, the demanding needs of those around him and for sharing his
message of redemptive love.
‘An Early Morning
Walk.’
“When we woke up –
Jesus had gone. Simon, who sleeps
lighter that the rest of us, thought he’d heard him stirring, long before dawn.
We were still
rubbing the sleep from our eyes when we heard the sound of many voices. People were gathering outside the door
already, bringing sick folk with them.
Some, I suspect, had even slept there all night.
(It was such a
different life to the one I had known so recently, before Jesus came walking by
and we got to talking, and I got to follow him around: not uninvited, I might
add. And even those first few days with
Jesus were different – euphoric, exciting, personal if you know what I mean.
You see, the
crowds were a bit much for me. I like a
quiet life, out in the boat fishing, a few friends at the end of the day – and
starting the day in my own way, not like this!
The previous
evening, after sunset, the crowds had come.
Some of them diseased, dirty, smelling to high heaven! Others twisted and tormented by demons,
calling out in strange voices. It was
not a sight or a sound I would care to repeat very often.
But he stayed
calm. And he took them one at a time,
looking into their eyes, or taking their hand, as if there were no-one else in
all the world for that moment.
When he moved
away, they walked tall and the strange voices had gone, leaving them new
people, whose friends and families gaped at them in wonder.
We were getting
used to it, and not used to it, if you know what I mean.
It was late when
we finished. I say ‘we’ because he had
us helping. We had to talk to people as
they waited. At one point I found myself
with a screaming child thrust into my arms while its mother spoke with
Jesus. Every so often he’d ask us to
come close and watch what he did, like apprentices really.
We fell down on
our mates, worn out, and despite being a bit crowded together in the one place,
most of us, I think, slept immediately.
I knew nothing
more until I woke and yawned and stretched, and heard the buzzing noise of many
people outside the doorway: already!
When we realised he’d left us with them we panicked, and took off like
frightened rabbits to find him.
Because I knew the
area well I led the way. Some instinct
told me he’d have headed out of town to find a quiet place. He was given to doing that. But I don’t know how he’d managed to get up
so early and pray, that is, unless he simply had to.
When we found him
we plunged into the small clearing, excited, bubbling over with words of need,
and then we came to a halt, because he was praying.
His eyes were
closed, his arms outstretched. Last
night he’d embraced the crowds, this morning, I suspected, he was embracing
God.
We only allowed
him to be quiet for a moment – later we were to ask him to teach us to pray as
he did – before we said ‘everyone is looking for you’.
We said that as
you would say it to a child who has got engrossed in a game out in the garden
while dinner is on the table. But he
didn’t race back to us. He came slowly.
As we walked,
adjusting our pace to his, and letting the anxiety slip away from us, he said,
‘We must go on to the other villages round here. I have to preach in them also, because that
is why I came.
Not easy to move
on when there is so much left undone.
Some of us felt a mixture of relief and remorse as we left the people
and their needs behind. When I thought
about it in later years as the crowds began to press in on me, I realised that
he was trying to tell us that he had a message to proclaim, and it was more
important for people to hear this, than for them to be free of their diseases. A lot of people never understood this, and
just wanted the signs and wonders which he could perform.
Maybe his prayers
that early morning were for strength to keep seeing the priorities, because he
was a compassionate man and would not have found it easy to move on from those
whose hands reached out to catch him and hold him in one place.
Now I seek those
early morning places of solitude myself, to ask for the grace to keep God’s
purpose clear in my mind above the noise of the crowds.”
Prayer of Response
Christ Jesus, as
we listen to your word, as we sit in stillness with you, we become aware of our
fears, the things that hold us back and seem to render us helpless in your
service. We become aware too of your
assuring presence, there for us whether in flight or in safety – always with
us, never apart. We hear too that there
are no easy ways of being your people in the world – for there is so much pain,
the needs so complex – but when we find ways to listen to your voice, to know
you more deeply, we hear your way more clearly.
We know too that
peace and healing is yours to give - often in the most unexpected ways –and
that in our inadequacies and fears we are none the less your hands and feet,
learning how to trust your grace and mercy, how to serve in love and compassion. Let us be still and know that you are
God. Amen.
Margaret Garland
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