Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 15th February 2015 Transfiguration Sunday

Readings:  2 Corinthians 4:3-6, Mark 9:2-9

Let us pray:  May the words of my mouth and the understandings of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our rock and our sustainer.  Amen.

When my parents lived in Kaka Point, down in South Otago on the coast, from their window some mornings you could see the sun rise seemingly out of the sea – huge and warm and stunningly close.  It never failed to take my breath away – and the way it lit up the sky and dressed the clouds around it and changed its shape minute by minute – then suddenly it was all over -  it became recognisable as the sun that crossed the sky each day, a bit more ordinary, a bit less spectacular.

Was it anything like that for the disciples on the mountain top do you think?  A sense of extraordinary closeness to the divine, the inexplicable yet total experience of magnificence that simply stopped you in your tracks?

I wonder.  If you were ever to try and put yourself into a moment from the gospel narrative, would this be the one?  I suspect it would be for me – mainly for the sheer way in which it overwhelms and drives away all normal thought and response – leaving just the glorious experience.  For someone who routinely over-thinks things, pure experience is both chastening and uplifting. 

Marcus Borg uses a Jewish theologian’s phrase to describe this – he calls this having a ‘radical amazement moment’ where all the struggles we have with the nature of God, the very existence even, are just swept out of the way in a moment of absolute clarity of  God as the presence in which we live and move and have our being.  A moment of binding relationship, of clear purpose and experiential certainty in and with God.

For me these moments are incredibly powerful and, yes,  held close and not often talked about because I am not sure how anyone else would react.  Yet I would suspect that more people than not would have at least an inkling of where I was coming from. 

Hear the response of the disciples to this mountain top experience.  Fear, awe, bumbling responses, silence, transition from thinking they had a hand on this disciple stuff to being blown out of the proverbial water, the sense of homecoming with the appearance of Elijah and Moses, yet the sense of terror that this ‘thing’ was happening around them. 

And what do we often do when we are afraid –we revert to something familiar – in their case offering hospitality and comfort so they didn’t have to think about what was actually going on.  Later they would have cringed at their inadequate response I suspect.

Let’s take a moment to follow that thought.  Are there times when we are invited into one of those moments of radical amazement with God but fail to grasp the moment – too busy to stand still, too blinkered to let the light in, too preoccupied with our own understandings to recognise where we are.  It totally reminds me of C.S. Lewis’ “The Last Battle” where the dwarves in the shed are so convinced that the world and all in it is against them that they cannot recognise the joy and beauty of the land of Aslan – their minds simply won’t let the good news in.  And so their potential sparkling water became fetid swamp water, their banquet became mouldy bread.....

One of the phrases from the Psalms that was a ‘radical amazement’ moment for me was that we are called to delight in the Lord.  Not be dour and serious all the time, to laugh and be filled with the sheer joy of the moment – in other word show our delight in the glory of God and to rest in the beauty of creation and the joy of being loved.  Because it’s not always like that.  These are moments, not destinations.

For we live a dynamic faith – one that does not allow us to remain forever in those aha moments but rather to gather them close and head down the mountain and walk amongst the mundane and the ordinary and the hurting.  Where do Jesus and the disciples go when they come down the mountain – they walk straight into a crowd of need – a need that the disciples were having trouble meeting.  And the disciples that have stayed in the valley ask – ‘Jesus why couldn’t we drive out this demon?’  To which Jesus replies ‘It is only through prayer that this can happen.’  There is the sense that all the human institutions in the world will not by themselves change the course of human history for good – that there is a power in the presence of God revealed in us, - as Paul puts it - the light of Christ shining in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

Again going back to Borg – he says that as a young man he rejected the understanding of God as a distant, occasional supernatural being that occasionally intervened in our lives and came to know God as an intimate presence, a relationship experience of both the immanent (everywhere present) and the transcendent (holy mystery beyond our understanding ).  In the radical amazement moments he found God again and in the reality of those experiences he again believed in the purpose and power of a God within the valleys of our lives.  This will not be the journey that we all take and what we call our moments of experiencing the light of God will be very different for each of us – it may be moments of quiet peace, it may be a deep assurance that we have always had, it may be spectacular light bulb moments or gentle awareness of the beauty around and in us.  But the question we ask of ourselves is – what is it that strengthens and increases the wattage of the light of Christ in us so that we can then share that gift purposefully and generously with others?

It is no surprise that this transfiguration moment is placed before the road to Jerusalem, to the chaos and to the cross.

The moment of clarity and glory, of assurance – so that – there are those words again, so that we are better equipped to walk the way of Christ – taking the sacred and holy into our ordinary and everyday, which will be up and down, challenging as well as delightful.

So what might this acknowledging of our mountain top experience of ‘God with us’ encourage in us as a people of faith? 

Perhaps a willingness to engage in dialogue, to share experience, to talk ‘God’, to hear, really hear, the difficult uncomfortable invitations to new understandings. 

To trust each other enough to share both our mountain top experiences, our doubts, our questions and our belief. 

To respect and give room to others who think things differently to us, knowing that ‘God with us’ is real and we don’t need to be intimidated by or afraid of other’s ways to God. 

Perhaps to give of our abundance into people and situations where we don’t know the outcome, have no control over the process, can’t immediately fix the problem – but instead to trust in the power and presence of love to do what it does best – to heal and restore.  

To delight in our God – morose faith is a contradiction in terms – sing loudly, laugh and clap your hands, enjoy being a person of faith, be ready to share why with the people who wonder what it is that makes you content, happy, delighted.

To come to worship knowing that you are welcome just as you are – to lose the guilt, the need to prove yourself or be someone other than you are – for each one of us is the beloved of God, the one who is intimately with us in the everyday and in the mystery that is the mountain top experience.  Amen.

Margaret Garland

Sermon at Opoho Church Sunday 8 February, 2015 Epiphany 5

‘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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[1] From New Green Shoots and other Story Sermons  edited by Rex A. E. Hunt.  (Melbourne: JBCE, 1993)

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 1 February 2015 Epiphany 4

Readings:  1 Corinthians 8:1-13,  Mark 1:21-28

Let us pray:

Loving God, we pray that our hearts be open, our minds be receptive, our imagination engaged as we seek to hear your vision for this your church.  May we be assured of your grace and encouraged in our endeavour in Jesus name.  Amen.

 Friday afternoon seated at my desk, hands hovering over the keys of the computer, I was having real difficulty finding a way into the sermon.  You see it was the day when we would hear about whether the offer on our house had gone unconditional.  It was also the day after a funeral – when we farewelled a faithful saint within our congregation.  There was also a bunch of things to be sorted – pastoral, meetings, emails, multiple hats.....  Sure I had been reading and thinking and forming ideas but would it come together in any shape – no way.  And suddenly – as I wrote these first few words, it happened.  The perfect illustration of what I was wanting to say today.  Here I was, thinking that to properly prepare the sermon I needed to forget (put aside) the very relationships and issues that are part of my everyday life.  I was wanting some kind of elevated pristine space from which to launch my deep and meaningful thoughts on these bible passages, stepping into the dangerous territory of isolating sermon from that which form and shapes us into community.  

This is exactly what Paul is saying to beware of.  Trying to do the knowledge bit all by itself, without love, without all the messy stuff that is life, is just puffing ourselves up, he says – but when our thinking and learning is informed by loving relationships, then we have the way of Christ.  If we want to play with words perhaps we could say ‘Knowledgeable Love’ is what we are seeking.

Picture it if you can.  To a faith community well endowed with thinkers and orators – a knowledgeable community - it was as clear as a bell to them that this ‘not eating temple meat’ was no longer part of their faith and they could easily and with good conscience sit down to eat it.  But then Paul comes along and spoils their party – knowledge itself is not enough, he says – you need to think what impact this will have on your relationships with each other – those who might feel excluded because they weren’t at that same understanding and their scruples wouldn’t allow them to participate in the meal – and those of new faith for whom it was a too close connection with what they had just walked away from and could easily draw them back.

Care of others needs to inform our knowledge.  It is the same argument, isn’t it, that says following of the rule of law without the light of love and compassion is a slippery slope.  If it is harmful especially to the weak and vulnerable, if it is not God’s way.  And Paul says how important he thinks this is – I would soon become a vegetarian than cause harm to one of our family by eating meat.  An extreme statement meant to have impact on those around him.

What might be a parallel today do you think? 

The one that immediately comes to mind is that of being sure that our way is the right way and will be the right fit for all people – they just need to catch up – or ‘get it’.  It’s a kind of arrogance of faith, that in our learning we have found ‘the’ truth and will surge on regardless of where others are at.  For us as Church this has enormous implications - for our intercultural relationships, for our theological relationships, for our relationship with each other and our communities. 

Culturally we can welcome immigrants to our community but on our terms, to our way – seeing other ways as a bit lacking or not quite grown up or unknown and therefore to be feared.  We are better at it than we used to be but still a way to go I think. 

Or alternatively we can come as a member of another cultural group and hold on to our ways so tightly that no other relationship can permeate our barriers. 

By doing either of these we are devaluing and demeaning the many different strength that diversity brings to new community, that respect and willingness to engage brings to understanding and peaceful relationship and new ways to knowledge of God.

Theologically – now there is an all too common example of knowledge without love dividing the body of Christ – within our own house so to speak.  I’m right – no I’m right.  Bible passages quoted – hurled across the room like spears in the heat of battle.

Forcing each other to believe particular interpretations or be excluded.  You know I did do the terrible thing, just because I could – now that I have been in ministry over three years I thought – I probably have a sermon on these lectionary readings – so I went back and had a look.  No – no temptation to re-use – and you all would notice anyway, of that I am sure!  But what was interesting – one thing I did say then was that I wondered if the energy put into deciding who was right and wrong on the issue on sexuality was in fact enslaving us to the detriment of our relationship as a church.  Today I can say - how important was that moment at last assembly when people refused to enter into the right and wrong debate and left the floor.  You might say it is relationship triumphing over the theological high ground.  And yet I know too that there are people who don’t agree with that stance because we have a rule in place that excludes and which we need to get rid of.  Messy place trying to live in knowledgeable love but we need to dive into that mess if we want to be a welcoming loving church body. 

And finally I think we can just get so self absorbed in being church, in whatever that might mean for us, that we don’t see the messy stuff happening around.  I am sure you will relate to the endless meetings that seem to take up time and energy, that we get so involved with running the church or producing a perfect service that we inadvertently miss the signs of need around us.  I know I have realised after a morning tea that I have spent all the time arranging meetings or business for the week to come and haven’t been available for those who want to talk.

In fact that seemed to be what was happening in the synagogue when Jesus came to teach – that the focus and absorption was with the gaining of knowledge – to the detriment of engagement with those who were in need.  Jesus taught with authority – and astounded the people with his knowledge and teachings  – but he also was the one to notice and respond to the man in need of healing – how long had he been there, unattended, unnoticed I wonder.   

You know on Thursday we farewelled from here someone who might not have had much time for theological rightness – but that was because she was so busy looking out for everyone - Margaret didn’t leave people unattended and unnoticed that’s for sure.  She had the relationship bit absolutely right. 

We worship and believe and discover and question and study not for its own sake, not because we think we believe pure knowledge of God will get us closer to God, but because the teachings of Jesus will more deeply penetrate our lives and our choices and our acts so that we do not harm the vulnerable, exclude the marginal, forget the hurting or ignore the needy.  The heartbeat of the Church is knowledge of God expressed in loving relationship with the people of God in the name of Christ.  Amen.

Margaret Garland

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 18th January 2015. Epiphany 2

Readings:  1 Samuel 3:1-10,  Psalm: 139:1-6, 13-18, John 1:43-51

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

“Then the Lord said to Samuel, ‘See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. On that day I will fulfil against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. For I have told him that I am about to punish his house for ever, for the iniquity that he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them. Therefore I swear to the house of Eli that the iniquity of Eli’s house shall not be expiated by sacrifice or offering for ever.’”[1]

How incredibly difficult it must have been for Samuel – not just to realise that the voice of God was calling him – but also the message that he was to hear – the apparent down fall of the one who had nurtured and guided him throughout his life. How on earth can we ever think that the calling of God is an invitation to an easy life? 

Both our readings today are about calls to follow – Samuel hearing God’s call in the night and Nathanael hanging around under the fig tree and responding to Jesus even in his cynicism. 

In both cases there is an invitation and a response – and a realisation that this call is not ordinary nor is it safe.  There is a sense that there is an epiphany happening for each – an encounter that somehow transcends and turns upside down all previous invitations to relationship.  What was it that made a young boy and a cynical man centuries apart both take notice, enter into this life changing moment where belief in God becomes engagement with God? 

In my reading I came across this statement:  “that on this, the second Sunday after Epiphany, the church stands between Christology and discipleship, between the wonder of the Word made flesh and the gritty joy of our attempts to respond.”[2] 

It comes after the baptism and before the long painful journey to the cross, and is all about answering the call to discipleship from one who invites us to step out on a journey of faith.

As we consider that call on our lives it might be helpful to learn a little more about the two people we heard of in our readings today.

Samuel was a young boy – one who had already had trauma in his life, given away by his mother to this man Eli for a life of priestly upbringing.  And he was still in a vulnerable position, subject to Eli as his master, one who had full authority over him and his life.  He hadn’t imagined anyone other than Eli commanding him hence his constant and immediate response being to run to Eli.  He must have felt a bit of a chump afterwards, like we do when our brain just doesn’t engage and we get things so wrong.  And it took courage to pass on the message, that, because of the sins of his sons, Eli’s priestly line was to come to an end.  Yet he did it. 

The encounter with God instilled in this young boy something that was life changing – some  sense of urgency and courage for what was to come.  Some anchor to see him through a topsy turvey life.  For there was no instant wisdom or perfection suddenly gifted to Samuel – his own sons were equally to be labelled scoundrels and he too was put aside – but there was fuel for the journey – a journey that couldn’t be denied. 

Nathanael too found something in that moment of invitation that allowed him to respond unequivocally and urgently – one minute he was muttering that nothing good could come out of Nazareth – and yet his feet were taking him towards this man - and it wasn’t good argument or persuasive rhetoric that convinced him – it was the man standing before him, his very presence that somehow convicted him. 

And it wasn’t that Nathanael was looking for a lifeline – he was an upright faithful man – one lacking in any guile we hear.  It wasn’t that he needed adventure in his life or that he didn’t have a healthy dose of scepticism when it came to extraordinary claims, it was that something happened that called him into something more, something he couldn’t walk away from.  God knew his name and called him to follow.

I have come from a fairly traditional faith experience, brought up in the local church, a bit chary about overt expressions of worship and a reluctant or non-existent proselytizer.  Any call I had on my life was well supervised by self and my relationship with God was contained and measured.  But all the while there were little bits of excitement - you could say my ears tingled!  There was something greater, a hint of a presence, a wind of the spirit that said there was more.   I totally relate to Samuel – Margaret, Margaret, oi you!  Deaf as a post I reckon.  Till now.

What was it that changed – that encourage me to step out from under my fig tree, muttering all the while, but somehow drawn towards this new journey with unknown future (now if I’d have known Opoho was the future I wouldn’t have worried so much would I?).  There are no clear words that I can offer you except a sense of rightness, of empowerment, of presence with me in whatever I would be faced with.  It didn’t mean sudden perfection (trust me on this) nor did it mean a smooth path – but rather a deep relationship of trust and faith in the midst of the realities of life and a sense of urgency and an ability to step into places and spaces that normally terrified me with some small confidence in the presence of Christ there too.

So it is in our very ordinariness that we are called to discipleship – if a somewhat dozy youth and a slightly cynical but good man and a rather reluctant (what me) woman in her fifties can respond to God’s call, recognise the faithful presence of God in their lives and be empowered therefore to walk in new place with courage and hope – what might that look like for each one of you. 

For there is no magic formula – no definitive path – no one experience that all have to follow.  Each of us has our own story to tell and our own path to walk.  But we do all need to understand that the journey is not made to be suddenly easy, that we are called to trust in the presence of God wherever we might be and that we are to be the presence of Christ in our love for one another, our care of one another and our deep desire for justice, equality, mercy for all people of the world and for the world itself. They will know we are Christians by our love.... This is what discipleship is about and this is what Christ offers us when he invites us to join with him on the way.   We each of us have our own response – take some time now to consider what this means for you.  Amen

Margaret Garland

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[1] 1 Samuel 3:11-14

[2] Feasting on the Word Year B, Vol 1 p.261

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 11th January 2015 Baptism of Jesus.

Readings:  Genesis 1:1-5, Psalm 29, Mark 1: 4-11

Let us pray:  Creator God, we seek your word to us today – make us open to see your vision for the world and for us, may we hear your assurance and follow courageously your light, that all may know Christ through our living.  Amen

There was a time when we were not.  Not part of creation, for first there was heavens and the earth, and water and light and darkness.... and we were not, yet!  In this story of creation, humankind was the last to be created. 

There was a time when we were not born into this world, where our ancestors did not imagine us nor our communities know us. 

There was a time when we were not gathered into the community of faith, whether through baptism or family or choice – there was a time when we were not. 

It’s important to remember this – for sometimes I feel we are so concentrating on our story that we lose important connections with the bigger story of creation and of the mystery that is God’s world.  I feel that our connections with the created world, what has been and is to come, what is wider than our knowledge and beyond our understanding is often tenuous at best and discarded at worst.  We tend to live in the now and the ‘me’ and expect to bring everything to our door or at least to be reachable!

There is a sense, especially in the western world (I am not sure that is any longer the right thing to say – maybe in our globally affluent world) that creation is our oyster, that every aspect is ours to take hold of or conquer or experience. 

What am I talking about?  I am talking about introducing a little bit of pagan back into our lives – now that really helped explain didn’t it? 

A New York theologian, Donna Schaper, suggests that much of our life experience today is focussed on climbing every mountain and fording every stream to the detriment of being connected and familiar with our own mountain and stream.  And that is why she wants to retrieve the word pagan – originally meaning of the country/village and from the latin ‘to be fixed or anchored’.  (The meaning of being heathen or not of faith or uncivilised came later. ) She further suggests that our lack of connectiveness with our roots in this globally affluent world leads us to ditch one of the most important of values, that of reverence.  Schaper defines reverence as a deep understanding of human limitation.  When we believe everything is ours to know and experience, then what place God in our lives.  Reverence is the accepting the mystery of creation and the creator - as something beyond us yet ours to be part of.  Reverence is knowing your value as a person in God’s eyes and recognising that there much we cannot and will not be or do – that we are beloved as we are.

You know I was driving to the church during the week, through the Octagon, and it struck me that on the whole I was very happy with who I was, where I was and my take on life.  You see I had a snapshot moment – there was this young man crossing the road in front of me who was smoking a cigarette and who in his other hand had a banana which, with the swing of his arm, looked like a tail.  I’m glad I see silly things like that, that I can laugh and notice ludicrous connections, that I see shapes in clouds and marvel at the beauty of buttercups and am refreshed by the smell and sight and feel of the sea and love walking barefoot through the lush grass of the south.  And in those moments I know and experience not just my own sense of belonging but also the mystery of a God far beyond my ken, a Creator God who spirit swept over the water, and whose light came to pierce the darkness of the world.  And that light came into the world and was baptised with water so that he could fully enter into the ministry of his father.  There is the sense where the circle that is creator, water and light in Genesis is fulfilled again in the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan. 

And so to our baptism – our invitation into the cleansing water of new life – our connection throughout time and with all who believe to the God who knew us before we were and who loves us as we are. 

Now if you are sitting out there thinking – crikey I’ve never been baptised so maybe I need to quietly creep out the back door and never come back – then don’t.  The act of baptism is not in itself a magic pass but a symbol of a much deeper and public commitment to stepping into that living water that is the body of Christ – into the living stream which has flowed down through history and in which people come together in the name of Christ to live in Christ’s way. 

This is the place in which we find our roots, our worth, our purpose, our beginnings and our endings, here in the place where Christ is.  We need look no further, nor seek to be other than who we are, for the water of life continually refreshes and cleanses us, and leads us on - in Jesus name.  Thanks be to God.

Margaret Garland

Service of Worship Wednesday 24th December 2014 Christmas Eve

Welcome

Call to Worship Isaiah 9:2-7

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness— on them light has shined.

For a child has been born for us, a son given to us;

authority rests upon his shoulders and he is named Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”

His authority shall grow continually, and there shall be endless peace for the throne of David and his kingdom.  He will establish and uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time on and forever more.

Carol

O come, O come, Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel,

that mourns in lonely exile here until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer our spirits by thine advent here;

disperse the gloomy clouds of night, and death’s dark shadows put to flight:

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, thou Key of David, come, and open wide our heavenly home;

make safe the way that leads on high, and close the path to misery:

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

18^th century, based on the ancient Advent Antiphons  WOV 193

Prayer

We are almost there, O God, almost at the end of our waiting, our preparing, our barely contained expectation.  Each Advent we have moments when we are not sure that we can find you in the midst of the messy busy time we have created.  But you always break through, you always find us, you always come again, the light of the world into the darkness.  We give thanks and praise for your faithfulness and grace.  In the name of the one who came to bring life and light we pray. Amen

Lighting of the Advent Candles

Over the past four weeks, we’ve been lighting candles on this Advent Wreath for those who travel in the way of Christ – for hopeful journey, for faithful journey, for expectant journey, for joyful journey.  Tonight we light the star – the sign of great hope for those who journeyed from near and far, the sign to us of the continuing hope for all who travel towards the light of Christ.  And as we light it we remain seated to sing:

Carol

Ralph Vaughan Williams, Tune Forest Green WOV 240 

O little town of Bethlehem,

how still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep

the silent stars go by:

yet in thy dark street shineth

the everlasting light;

the hopes and fears of all the years

are met in thee tonight.

O morning stars, together

proclaim the holy birth,

and praises sing to God the King

and peace to all on earth.

For Christ is born of Mary;

and, gathered all above,

while mortals sleep, the angels keep

their watch of wondering love.

How silently, how silently,

the wondrous gift is given!

So God imparts to human hearts

the glorious love of heaven.

No ear may hear God’s coming;

but in this world of sin,

where yearning souls long to be whole,

the dear Christ enters in.

Responsive Psalm: 96 adapted from ‘Jim Cotter Out of the Silence’

Sing to the great God a new song,

sing to the Creator, sing the whole earth.

We sing to you, God, and praise your name,

telling of your salvation from day to day,

declaring your glory to those who do not know you,

and your wonders to the peoples of the earth.

Marvellous God, you are greatly to be praised,

more to be honoured than all the powers.

Glory and worship before you,

power and honour are in your sanctuary.

Let the heavens rejoice and the earth be glad:

let the sea roar, and all its creatures delight;

let the fields be joyful, and all that is in them:

then shall the trees of the wood shout for joy.

For you come to judge the earth with your truth and your righteousness.

All creatures of the earth will sing your praise,

for you are a God who is faithful,

for ever loyal to your covenant,

creating light and hope out of darkness and truth out of despair for all peoples. 

Luke 2:1-7 

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David. He went to be registered with Mary, to whom he was engaged and who was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for her to deliver her child

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

Carol

Words based on Piae Cantiones, 1582; Tune: Puer Nobis WOV 218

Unto us a boy is born!

Ruler of creation,

came unto a world forlorn,

the God of every nation.

Cradled in a stall was he

with sleepy cows and asses; 

but the very beasts could see

that he all folk surpasses.

Now may Mary’s son, who came

so long ago to love us,

lead us all with hearts aflame

unto the joys beyond us.

Luke 2:8-14

The Shepherds and the Angels

 In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying,
‘Glory to God in the highest heaven,
   and on earth peace among those whom he favours!’

Carol

While shepherds watched their flocks by night

all seated on the ground,

the angel of the Lord came down

and glory shone around.

To you, in David’s town this day,

is born of David’s line,

the Saviour, who is Christ the Lord;

and this shall be the sign

The heavenly babe you there shall find

to human view displayed,

All wrapped around in swaddling bands

and in a manger laid.

Paraphrase of Luke 2:8-14; “Winchester Old” Melody from Este’s Psalter, 1592 WOV 223

Light Candles

Prayer

Bright holy God, you come amongst us.  You fill us with awe and wonder.  You welcome our stories and prayers…

We pray tonight for peace, peace in places where there is anger and war and fear… we pray for peacemakers and peace keepers, for rulers, for politicians, for fighters, for older people and children, for all who are caught up in conflict, in bitterness and in danger.  We pray for peace with integrity and with justice.

We pray on this night for travelers… for those who are travelling to or from home for Christmas, for those who are travelling because they have no place, no shelter they can call their own… for those who are travelling to escape hardship and injustice.

We pray for all who are sick, and for those who care for them and pray for them.  We pray for those who have died, those we miss at our table……we pray our love for them be known and their stories be a continuing part of our lives.

We pray for ourselves – for our hopes and fears, our joys and sorrows, our blessings and our empty places.

God in your mercy hear our prayers and let our hearts be filled with healing and hope – in Jesus name.  Amen

Meditation

Christmas Eve – a really special time and special for me in that it has been a newly discovered Christmas tradition – and yet I know for many here, it is, and has always been the moment of the coming of the Christchild – in the night, candles, expectation, excitement – the joy shared, the family together, the gathering to worship and to celebrate with those we love the birth of the baby Jesus, the coming of the light of the world.

And yet there are many who cannot be where they want to be at this time, people separated by war, by prison, by financial constraints, by work, by distance, by divisions, by death.  Too many people divided, angry, violent and vengeful. Tonight I want us to remember another Christmas Eve where people were not where they wanted to be, where violence was not just present but expected,  and where the shared memory of the birth of the Christ child overcame divisions and enmity.  It is one hundred years since the event took place that we commonly know as ‘Christmas in the trenches’, where, at the first Christmas of WW1, soldiers from both sides of the conflict put down their weapons, walked out into that middle ground, no-mans land, greeted each other, shared Christmas blessings, may have played a game or two of football, shared in worship and sang carols together.  In that moment peace was found, humanity was rebirthed, a new way of relationship was established.  The units had to be broken up by their respective armies – for they would no longer fight each other.

I am not sure how many of you know that there appears to have been a similar exchange in World War II – between the Maori Battalion and the Germans at Orsogno in Italy in 1943.  Richard Spence says ‘At Christmas Eve, just on midnight, the Maori struck up ‘Silent Night’ in Maori.  And the Germans replied in their language.’

There is another way – an alternative to the vengeance and violence and conflict that plagues this world– and it begins with humanity voicing its love for one another – for in the light of love all becomes clear - for there Christ is come.

As we sing we remember those who call out for peace.  And we sing the first verse in Te Reo in remembrance of those who laid down their weapons.

Carol

Mārie te pō, tapu te pō 
Marino, marama 
Ko te Whāea, me te Tama 
Tama tino, tapu rā 
Moe mai i te aio 
Moe mai i te aio. 

Silent night! Holy night!

All is calm, all is bright.

Round yon Virgin Mother and Child,

Holy Infant so tender and mild,

Sleep in heavenly peace, Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night! Holy night!

Shepherds quake at the sight,

glories stream from heaven afar,

heav’nly hosts sing Alleluia;

Christ, the Saviour, is born, Christ the Saviour, is born.

Silent night! Holy night!

Son of God, love’s pure light

radiant beams from thy holy face,

with the dawn of redeeming grace,

 Jesus, Lord, at thy birth, Jesus, Lord, at thy birth

Words Joseph Mohr, Music Franz Xaver Gruber  WOV 236

Wait for midnight

It is Christmas Day – a child is born, a son is given. 

We greet the Christ.  And we sing the good news ….

Carol

Joy to the world, the Lord is come!

Let earth receive her king;

let every heart prepare a room

and heaven and nature sing,

and heaven and nature sing,

and heaven, and heaven and nature sing.

Joy to the world, the Saviour reigns!

Let all their songs employ;

while fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains

repeat the sounding joy,

repeat the sounding joy,

repeat, repeat the sounding joy.

Christ rules the world with truth and grace,

and makes the nations prove

the glories of God’s righteousness

and wonders of God’s love, and wonders of God’s love

and wonders, and wonders of God’s love.

Isaac Watt  17^th – 18^th C Tune Antioch  WOV 224

And we greet each other – if you would blow out your candles now and we will share the peace and blessing  of Christ.

The Peace

Minister: Kia tau tonu te rangimarie o te Ariki ki a  

                koutou.  The peace of Christ be with you all

People:    A ki a koe ano hoki.  And also with you

Commissioning and Benediction

We go out into this Christmas morning in the peace of Jesus Christ.  May his peace, that lightens the soul with faith, lifts the spirits with hope, and leavens the world with love, be ours, tonight and always.

And the blessing of God, Creator, Son and Spirit go with us and remain with us now and always.   Amen

Carol

O come, all ye faithful,

joyful and triumphant,

O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem;

Come and behold him born the king of angels;

O come, let us adore him (x3) Christ the Lord.

God of God, Light of Light,

Lo! He abhors not the Virgin’s womb;

Very God, Begotten not created; O come..

Sing, choirs of angels,

Sing in exaltation,

Sing, all ye citizens of heaven above,

‘Glory to God in the highest.’: O come..

Yea, Lord, we greet thee,

born this happy morning;

Jesus, to thee be glory given:

Word of the Father, now in flesh appearing; O come..

John Francis Wade Tune Adeste Fideles WOV 228

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 7 December, 2014 Advent 2 Quarterly Communion.

Readings: Psalm 85: 1-2, 8-13,  Mark 1: 1-8

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

In studying the Old Testament reading for today  – parts of psalm 85  - I was suddenly very aware of a sense of timelessness – a strong and faithful thread stretching from the day of the psalmist to us today. It was the pattern of the psalm – of acknowledging the greatness of God in our lives and our history, the forgiveness of sin, the word of God given and expanded on, and words of hope with which to journey on with.  A familiar liturgical approach that we continue to follow in services today.  It is also an inspiring sermon, powerful and evocative, one which deserves our close attention.

For is was just that – a word spoken in the midst of the daily life of the community and the regular worship of the people of God.  Not from a mountain top nor in the midst of prophetic fervour but spoken into the ordinary and the everyday, amidst the ups and downs of life – a word acknowledging the past but with a sense of urgency for the now and a clear vision of God’s intentions for the future.  May I read you the words of the psalmist again – they begin with a reminder of how good God has been to the people in the past, of how their waywardness has been forgiven and God’s love for them is constant, then we hear this vision for the hope of the world :

Let me hear what God the Lord will speak, for he will speak peace to his people, to his faithful, to those who turn to him in their hearts. Surely his salvation is at hand for those who fear him, that his glory may dwell in our land. 

Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other. Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and righteousness will look down from the sky. 
The Lord will give what is good, and our land will yield its increase. Righteousness will go before him, and will make a path for his steps.”[1]

In this stunning imagery of hope and promise for the salvation of the world, we have four core phrases or words: 

steadfast love, righteousness, faithfulness and peace, spoken into and lived through the lives of all those who believe in and trust in God.

This is what God’s salvation for the world will look like.  And there is a pointed message in here for those who believe that salvation is only about a person’s individual experience, or is something that happens once and on which you can rest.  You know that annoying person who comes up to you and says: ‘have you been saved?’ The biggest thing wrong with that question, to my mind, is that it is set firmly in the past tense, a one off experience, a done and dusted moment.  We have so lost the art of the active tense – we talk reformed not reforming, baptised not continual and ongoing baptism, ritualised gathering round the table instead of a continuing experience of the presence of Christ and, particularly at this time of year, remembering only the historical birth of the Christ child and ignoring the continuing and renewing life God births into us and into the world. 

The thrust of this sermon of long ago is that salvation is an active and now experience, anchored in the faithfulness of the past yet reaching into the hope of a future yet to come.

And there are some quite helpful threads for us. 

The psalmist gets that salvation is not so much about the individual as the whole people of God and our relationship with the world we live in.

They get that salvation of the world is way beyond our limited and individualistic vision but stretches from the heavens to the deepest earth - across time, through many differing journeys, and in ways we have no knowledge of  - a confident, all encompassing vision of the kingdom of God.  

And finally the psalmist also gets that salvation is not about the elect escaping hellfire and brimstone in some distant future, but that it is a promise of now and future blessing and hope for all people, the active living out of steadfast love, faithfulness, peace and right living.  Powerful preaching indeed.  

And then we move forward in time to John the Baptist who is another thread in God’s vision of salvation for the world – he speaks of the coming of that blessing, of preparing the way for Jesus – he too looks back to the prophecies of Isaiah, speaks with urgency of the need for redemptive action now and holds out the promise of what, or who, is to come.  He certainly had no concept of sitting back and waiting for some perfect future time – and he definitely didn’t hold back on his clear vision of the coming of salvation, of the coming of the one we had been waiting for.   I had a random thought – if that was today and we were expecting this important person to arrive, we would be filing detailed security plans, have several options if the weather was uncooperative, be trying to pin down a time and place for television coverage, the media would be anticipating what this important person was going to say and why they were coming and we would be checking the background of this weirdo who credentials were hazy and didn’t seem to have any financial or online footprint.  Sorry – minor detour there.

Prepare ye the way.   Await the coming of Christ.  Live into the vision!    So how do we as the people of God do that?  As community and individuals, we honour and remember all who have gone before, where we have come from and the wisdom gifted to us by the faithful of all time. 

We recognise the vastness God’s mercy and love, and the limits of our understandings, trusting in God’s definition of welcome and salvation, not ours. 

We are clear in our vision and active in our belief that where steadfast love and faithfulness meet; righteousness and peace kiss each other,  then there is salvation for the world – we are the hands and feet of Christ – welcoming, loving, compassionate and kind – especially to the vulnerable and unlovely.

We are a community of God linked through time and place with all who are now, who have gone before and all yet to come – the threads that connect us are strong and flexible, and require us to lean on and share with each other.  And for me, and I hope for you, we embody this Christian living  in the sacrament of holy communion  – as we gather around the table where so many have come, where all are welcome and where Christ Jesus is the host and, in the mystery of now and yet to come,  is with us.   This is a place where steadfast love and faithfulness meet, where righteousness and peace kiss each other – for here we are in the presence of Christ, in the company of love.  Amen

Margaret Garland

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[1] Psalm 85:8-13  NRSV