Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 27 March Easter Sunday.

Reading: John 20:1-18

We pray:  Holy God, Risen Christ, we pray this day for discernment, for our eyes to be opened and our faith to be strengthened as we hear you word for us today and everyday.  Amen.

It is very early in the morning, and Mary of Magdala was walking slowly down to the tomb to do the saddest and most heart breaking thing –to anoint with sweet spices the body of the one she, they all loved, the one they called Jesus. 

But he wasn’t there, the impossibly big stone had been moved, the tomb was empty.  Not stopping to check the dark corners, she ran to tell the others ‘they have taken him out of the tomb and we do not know where they have taken him.’  And with them she came back to the tomb only to fall to her knees weeping outside.  John, the beloved disciple got there first but didn’t go in, Peter not far behind, had no such scruples – straight past, straight into the dark cavern, and then too John. One saw and believed, the other saw and did not quite connect the dots.  None of the three understood the full potential of the open tomb and the scattered grave clothes.  Not yet anyway.

John’s account of the early morning after the Sabbath gives us just one woman who came to the tomb, one who was deeply disturbed by Jesus disappearance, unwilling to think other than desecration even when the angels appear, only realising the full implications of the stone rolled away when Jesus speaks to her. 

Till then she believed his body to have been moved by others - ‘They have taken him somewhere’ she says, ‘they have taken him away.’ 

Jesus is there to tell her that, no he hasn’t been taken, he has gone from the tomb. Purposeful resurrection, not political expediency.  He was not taken, he had gone.  Big difference. 

He has gone from the tomb, as we are to go from whatever are our tombs of disinterest, apathy, comfortable isolation, rigid thinking or self interest – not be taken by someone else’s actions but to go ourselves – where God calls us.

We are responsible for nurturing our own faith, coming to our own understanding of what Jesus means to us and to be able to articulate that by word and deed. Each of the three that came to the tomb had a different response, each a unique relationship with God and each a particular way of coming to an understanding of what had just happened.  We can’t ride on another person’s experience, we need to have our own. We can’t believe because another has said it is so, we have to see for ourselves.  And that means we have to listen, have our eyes opened, as Mary did, realise the potential of the open tomb made known in Jesus Christ and go tell the others what we have seen and known.

So we are to go.  But where are we to go? We are to go where Jesus went. 

The messengers said – he is not here, he has gone on ahead of you to Galilee.   Go and look for him there.  Go, don’t wait to be taken.  Look for him among the people.

(1) Look  for him among the children – Jesus really loved the children, like to talk and laugh with them, didn’t mind at all when they made noise in church, he got very cross when people  hurt children, and he made a lot of children who were sick or sad feel better.  Remember the Syrophoenician woman’s daughter – an argumentative desperate mother whose pleas were answered and her daughter healed.  And remember the children he gathered round him and the truth that children bring to our faith.  So Jesus will definitely be found among the children, especially those who have hard lives, who live with war or violence, who have no one to look after them, who are hungry or cold

Look for Jesus among the poor, those who don’t have jobs or not enough money to live on, those who are homeless and who have to beg on the streets – remember blind Bartimaeus – it must have been pretty scary when he could first see – he had only ever known being dependent on others charity – but Jesus had healed him and he had to learn how to be independent, to read and fish and be part of the community – and follow Jesus. He might have wished he couldn’t see, that awful week in Jerusalem.  So we will find Jesus walking along with people who are poor, helping them to speak out against a system that doesn’t care enough to help them and helping them be brave enough to go on.

And we will certainly find Jesus among outsiders and those who are discriminated against.  Where people are treated unfairly, that’s where he will go.  He knows all about not belonging, being accused and treated badly through fear and ignorance.  He surely does – and so he seeks out the outsiders or those whom others condemned  – like the Samaritan woman at the well – looked down by just about everyone.  She and Jesus talked, properly, he gave her back her sense of self, enough that she was able to convince those who had given her such a hard time that he was the Messiah.  Today there are plenty of people who are not treated equally, who are subjected to prejudice, bigotry, isolation – lonely, afraid, bewildered – I definitely think that that is where Jesus would go – making friends with them, treating them seriously, making them feel welcome and at home.

And we should look for Jesus among people who share – those who have a lot and those who have very little – not just because then everyone would have enough but also it is just really good to enjoy things together and not worry about someone missing out.  Remember the boy with the loaves and fishes.  Who could forget?  No one went away hungry that day – imagine if the world was like that – no one was hungry, everyone had the medicine they needed, everyone had a place to call home and could go to school and everyone felt like they mattered.  Jesus cared for those who were hungry, so that is where he would go.

And lastly we look for Jesus among the sad.  He didn’t try and find them to tell them to stop being sad, he looked for them so he could sit with them and comfort them and he would remind them that even if the person has died or gone away then the love was still there.  Remember Mary’s story – sitting outside the tomb weeping that someone had taken Jesus body away.  But then there was that moment when Jesus spoke to her and she knew such incredible wonder and joy in the midst of the ache.  He was still going to go away but he gave her a job to do – to go and tell the others the good news of resurrection.

So our Easter Day question – where are we looking for the risen Jesus.  If we are looking among the respectable and the comfortable we are unlikely to find him.  If we think he has been taken away from us, or we are still ensconced in the dark tomb of dogma and fear and guilt, then we have haven’t looked and listened and understood the meaning of the risen Christ.

But if we are looking for Christ in the vulnerable, the lost, the needy and the sad then we are very likely to have found the way to Galilee.  Amen.

Margaret Garland

(1)  Based on Look for Jesus…Fire and Bread Kathy Galloway and Ruth Burgess.

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 20 March, 2016 Palm Sunday

Readings:  Psalm 118  Luke 19:28-40

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 sustainer.  Amen.

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases…

This is the day, this is the day that the Lord has made…

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord..

The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone….

This is the Lord’s doing, it is marvellous in our eyes…..

Both in song and in word, Psalm 118 is awash with phrases that resonate in our lives and our faith and that are drawn upon in the New Testament.  I suspect the only phrase that diverts us rather is ‘bind the festal procession with branches up to the horns of the altar’ which was possibly a liturgical instruction or rule for worship that accompanies the psalm.

Psalm 118 was said to be Martin Luther’s favourite psalm, one that sustained him in difficult times.  For the Jews this was and still is read during Passover celebrations. For Christians it is the lectionary psalm for Palm Sunday every year.  In all four Gospels the whole multitude of disciples welcome Jesus into Jerusalem with the acclamation from the psalm: ‘Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord’.

This psalm is a prayer of thanksgiving focussed wholly on the power and goodness of God.  Not on our goodness, our efforts to get through the gate but the righteousness of the one that has come to save and set free all people.  It is all about God: the one who brought the people out of Egypt, who sustained them through the exodus, and to whom they come to the temple to praise and give thanks to.

The psalm begins and ends with a core affirmation of faith: ‘O give thanks to our God, who is good; whose steadfast love endures forever.’  Under threat, in distress, outnumbered, pushed to the limit, in every circumstance we are buttressed on all sides by God, who is good and whose love endures.  So says the psalmist.

And as we connect this psalm to the gospel reading for today, the hosannas welcoming Jesus to the gates of Jerusalem, the procession into the city and the  drama, tragedy to come within the gates, there are a couple of themes that stand out quite strongly for me.

Why do we find it so difficult to live in thanksgiving for the steadfast love which surrounds us and (connected) where does God wish to lead today’s procession?

Like the people of the Exodus, we too can ride a bit of a rollercoaster in our relationship with God – heartfelt praise and thanks, anger and impatience, fear and courage and demand and gifting.  It’s all there and I suspect will also be so.  The thing that is troublesome though is not a lively and challenging relationship with our God – that is good - but when we allow fear to overcome faith and remove God from the equation.  When we decide God is not present, not caring or simply not interested in little old us and try to do it all by ourselves, rely purely on our own resources.  Where we forget that steadfast love and hunker down into our resources to keep us safe – that is when we get into trouble.

That is when community becomes self and shared experience isolation, busyness takes the place of being still in the presence, thanksgiving becomes material accumulation and joy becomes anxiety nurtured by ‘what ifs’.  Life becomes a chore, a box, a place of small vision and little hope. 

The thing I get from the psalm today is the absolute expansiveness of God’s love and promise that can only be responded to by expansive joy and exuberant living on our part.  It doesn’t take out the difficult parts of the journey but it holds them all in the confidence of God’s righteousness and enduring love and grace. 

All words you say – isn’t it human nature to hold back a little bit on the celebrations just in case there is a beastie waiting round the corner about to pounce.  Isn’t it a little in the face to dance and leap for joy when there are others who find little joy in life and it goes without saying that it is a bit undignified.  

But don’t we hear enough stories where the shining confidence of God with us in our daily lives speaks to those who look on – the Christians in modern day Palestine who have nothing, celebrating the birth of Christ and shining their light into the darkness surrounding them, the approach to the unappetising stranger made possible in the enduring love of God beside us, the people in this congregation whose faith illuminates them and us, the peace that surrounds us when we stop and give thanks for God in our lives, the moments of inexpressible joy that come to us in the laughter of a child, the beauty of creation, the neighbourly act, the gifting of grace to each other.  God is good and God’s love surrounds us.

Yet it is a bumpy ride – we walk with the procession, shouting our hosannas but, within, trepidation walks with us, unertainty is present, the wee beastie probably is around the corner.  Jesus entered the city knowing what was to come, that even within the glorious certainty of God with him  there were moments of despair, of reluctance – he never could have done what he did on his own, without his Father alongside.  And our procession today – even when we are certain of the presence of God, even when we feel cherished and sing out God’s grace in our lives, what intrudes on our procession?  And do we even know where our walk is taking us. 

Some of you will remember the White Paper that the Moderator Andrew Norton released last year – and now we have the responses published and some further thinking laid out about our choices of direction and being the effective missional church of Jesus Christ in Aotearoa.  And there are some hard messages in there, some directions that will strip us of complacency and encourage radical ways (also known as the ways of Jesus) of being church.  Yet it is in that direction that we must be shouting our hosannas, for if we continue as a muted, voiceless, divided, spiritless, inward looking community of faith we are denying the power and goodness of God to work through us and in us no matter where we process. 

Remember those words from the psalm: 

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases…

This is the day, this is the day that the Lord has made…

Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord..

The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone….

This is the Lord’s doing, it is marvellous in our eyes…..

I would like to finish with a poem by RevMarty Stewart, a Presbyterian Minister in Christchurch.

A Palm Sunday Prayer
[Using the John O’Donohue poem Fluent]

'I would love to live like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise of its own unfolding '

This Palm Sunday remembrance suggests such a flow 
– an ease – feeling good, all going well, 
heads lifted to the shining sun and arms waving in the gentle breeze, 
with you O God, at the centre, 
and a vibrant path of possibilities unfolding before us.

But the thud of the real world comes upon us.
Not, so far (thank God), a cross, or a tomb,
But our feet do trip on stones, we bump up against hidden obstacles.
The skies fill with threatening clouds.
And the reality of what limits us revives our fears.

We long for a Hosanna but often we are left with a lament.

We look to Jesus.
Free. Resilient against the grumpy looks 
of those who cannot see for looking, cannot see that even the stones cry out in praise.

We look to Jesus.
Alive. Breathing the air, celebrating living.
Able to rejoice in the gift of the day upon him despite the clouds on the horizon.
We long for a Hosanna and are invited into one.
The hosanna of all creation shouting: “This is the day that the Lord has made!”

The Hosanna that invites us to live ‘…like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.’

Therefore, this day, and every day, despite the clouds
because your light has come, O God, and invited us into its freedom, 
we join in the song of all creation – Hosanna, Hosanna in the Highest! Amen.

Margaret Garland.

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 13 March 2016 Lent 5

Readings:  Isaiah 43:16-21,  John 12:1-8

Let us pray; God grant us ears to hear, minds to understand and the hearts to responds to your word.  In Jesus name. Amen.

What was it that Jesus really taught?  Among the many parables, teachings, prayers, actions, what are the non-negotiables do you think that challenge the status quo?  Now that is a mean question because I have some time to think about this and you have just had it sprung upon you.  But it is a fair question!  What are the non-negotiables in Jesus teaching?  Father Richard Rohr,[1] a Franciscan priest based in New Mexico has asked this in the context of the following: “Have we slowly fallen away from the core of the teaching of Jesus and created ‘an evacuation plan for the next world’ instead of loving our neighbour in this world”.  What are the non-negotiables in loving our neighbour? I am going to give you a moment to think about this before we hear his thoughts.

Richard suggests that it includes the following:

ü  Peacemaking

ü  Love of enemy

ü  Forgiveness

ü  Justice and generosity to the poor

ü  A community based on inclusion for all

I don’t think that many would argue with these – you might have different words, more to add but in the end this is Jesus’ teaching around how we love our neighbour, now, here. 

As Rohr says:  how can you listen to the sermon on the mount, hear the beatitudes and think that we can be anything other than non-violent – and he defines the moment where peace became a lost cause the moment Christianity was adopted as the imperial religion by Constantine at the beginning of the 4^th century – where the faith was used to create social order in Europe – the belonging system for Europe, he calls it.

Rohr mentions that he hears in the American elections the new non-negotiables of some Christians – pro-life – as defined by them, anti stem cell research, against contraception –much as we appear to have some new non-negotiables here in this church..  When did they become the non-negotiables, he asks with some perplexity – surely it is forgiveness and the love of enemies that are the core values of our Christian living.  If that had been heard by the church throughout the centuries would we not have had a different world now?  But we weren’t so interested in that but holding our selves ready and worthy for the next world.  So we became the non-forgivers, the haters, the war mongers – none, not one of the Christian nations have a history of being peace makers.  Rohr suggests it would only be the Quakers and Mennonites and Amish who retain the peace witness of the Christian church as church bodies.

Generosity toward the poor and the outsider!  Page after page in the gospel – very clear.  But again it didn’t fit with our living – huge fortunes amassed by churches, nations people – security and safety then we might look farther afield but to be honest we didn’t want to hear about the less well off – it didn’t fit in our radar screen, says Rohr.

And then he challenges us to find a story where Jesus excludes – he always names the situation but never excludes.  And in an admittedly broad brush stroke he defines churches as exclusive institutions where so many are not welcome or don’t fit – his exact words are that churches are the life saving stations that have become the country club.

He especially quotes his own catholic church and participating in the eucharist – only the worthy, the pure, the true members may come to the table when every time Jesus eats, he is with the ‘wrong’ people at the ‘wrong’ table or saying or doing the ‘wrong thing’.

In fact you could say that Jesus was crucified because of who he ate with – by re-doing the social order he upset everyone that it was possible to upset – he had to be taken out!

And the thing is – each of these non-negotiables that Jesus teaches, that he points us to again and again is, in the eyes of the world, radical, topsy turvey, troubling to the established order.  And like it or not, that is what we are part of – the established order.  We work in it, vote in it, makes choices offered by it, answer to it and are encultured by and to it.  Yet Jesus non-negotiables, the Christ-filled values we are to live by put us quite firmly outside this order. 

And therein lies the tension that we live with everyday – as have Christians and people of any faith, throughout time.  Straddling the perplexity of living in the way of Jesus in the midst of a world that expects, nay demands other. 

Almost too hard we might say.  Be of this world and put your faith in the world to come or withdraw from this world in community of like-mindedness and survive that way.  But I don’t think that either of these are what Jesus’ teaching is encouraging – he was very much in the midst, always making decisions that challenged the set behaviour and questioned the rules of engagement, engaging with the authorities and by his behaviour, who he ate with round the table if you like, setting out new ways of being for us all. 

So how do we do this.  Well I think that we have already covered some of the answer – where ever we negate the non-negotiables of Jesus teaching, peacemaking, love of enemy, forgiveness, care for the poor, justice, inclusiveness then we are deviating from the way of Jesus.  And sometimes we do – lets face it often we do – but we try, we are aware of when we get it wrong, we are open to new ways, better ways, Jesus ways.

When our rules for living, which may well have started out firmly based in gospel truth by the way, become de-personalised, overly formalised, subject to alternative values and interpretation or simply convenient then we should be suspicious, alert, challenging our part in them.  It is a subtle but deep trap, one that the scribes and Pharisees had fallen into and so have we, when we continue to abide by the rules when the heart has fallen out of them and something else has filled the vacuum.  And the heart is the non-negotiable values that Jesus demonstrated again and again and again.

A couple of examples maybe.

On Wednesday night we looked at generational influences in the light of the ten commandments that Moses brought down from Sinai.  We talked about how they are to be interpreted in today’s world when the context is not the same, the culture and world view different, even the meaning of the words to be challenged.  And for us, as Christians, they have to be interpreted in the light of Christ – surely!  The rules have to be read through the lens of the non-negotiables of Jesus and therefore of us – do not murder or covet or commit adultery are about being just and kind and compassionate, not intentionally seeking to hurt others for our own gains – fairly simple really.  Love God who loves you beyond measure - all the way to the cross actually, and seek to live in the way of love to all. 

I was in Wellington last week for the Leadership Sub Committee meeting– and, in company with the Moderator, Andrew Norton, we sought to find a way to get ourselves out of the deep mire that is Assembly meeting process gone toxic – where 60% rules and points of order, designed in the beginning to encourage fair and in good order discussion are now being used to browbeat and manipulate debate, to exclude and create division.  How do we find again our values as a Presbyterian Church in Aotearoa – a church that is inclusive, peacemaking, loving of each other, examples forgiveness and generosity and prioritises mission and justice for all? Not by this approach, that is for sure.

And from the reading today – yes I was going to get to it eventually – the anointing of Jesus.  From the gospel of John, we hear that it is Mary, sometimes called the ‘ideal disciple’ who carried out this extravagant act of covering Jesus feet with expensive perfume and wiping them clean with her hair.  And her act of giftedness she is challenged by someone who thinks they have an understanding of the non-negotiables – and we know through hindsight that he had a tenuous grasp at the best – Judas says why would you do this, you who should know better, when we could have sold it and given money to the poor.  You could say that the heart has fallen out of his interpretation of what it means to be a disciple of Jesus – he is unaware of or impatient with the compassion and grace of the anointing, the extravagant gesture of love to the one who will not be long with them.   Jesus accepts her gift of the heart with grace and gratitude.

So what are our non-negotiables from Jesus? If we find that we are pretty much ending up always sitting the ‘wrong’ people at the ‘wrong’ table or saying or doing the ‘wrong thing’ then we are probably fairly well connected with the values that Jesus asks us to live by in this world as we wait for the promise of the world to come.  Amen.                                                                                         Margaret Garland

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[1] http://www.itinerantpreacher.org/what-did-jesus-really-teach/

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 6 March Lent 4 Quarterly Communion

Readings:  2 Corinthians 5:16-21,  Luke 15:1-3,11b-32

We pray: Gracious God, we pray for a discerning heart and an enquiring mind as we hear your word for us today.  May all that we bring and all that we hear be gathered into your purpose for us.  In Jesus name. Amen.

The words we heard from Isaiah of last week where God says ‘My ways are not your ways, my thoughts are not your thoughts[1] have never been more aptly demonstrated than in the story of the prodigal son.  A story where reconciliation supplants resentment and grace punishment, where the restoration of proper relations between family, neighbours, community is sought against all convention and all human judgement.  It is a scandalous story of grace (or a story of scandalous grace?).

And the story was scandalous for the times – for it pushed all the buttons of inappropriate behaviour.

There was the inheritance.  Jewish law saw the land as a gift from God to the families of the tribes of Israel – to sell it out of the family was not only culturally but also religiously disgraceful.  And it is interesting that to give to the one, the Father also gave to the elder son too (so he divided the property between them) – effectively removing himself from ownership.  One assumes the social strictures of the time ensure a continuing home for the Father but one could argue that the fatted calf was not his to kill?  It is shocking behaviour, this flouting of age old values, almost as shocking as Jesus sitting down to eat with tax collectors and sinners?

Then the time in exile – the son has headed off without a look over his shoulder – and in the blink of an eye has squandered his inheritance completely – so much so that when famine comes he has nowhere to go, no-one to turn to. Deserved end to a foolish young man, most would say. Brought it upon himself, take the consequences. Shame though for the family.

And then comes that wonderful phrase - the prodigal ‘came to himself’ – realises in a moment of absolute clarity that who he has become is not who he is, that he is living a nightmare when he is supposed to live his father’s dream and the only way to reclaim that is to go on his knees back to his family, to his Father.  Not particularly surprising or scandalous at this point – but what was scandalous was that the Father, against all protocol, all expectation of appropriate behaviour, picked up his robes and ran to meet his son – not knowing why he had come home – might have just been to ask for more – not knowing if he repented of his choices, not allowing him a chance to grovel, plead for some bread – straight in to the feast, the celebration of a son reconciled to his family.  It’s a stunning picture isn’t it?

Dad, I’m…Welcome, welcome so good to see you - here put this robe on.  But I am….Sandals, you need sandals and here is your ring of belonging.  I need to tell you that I am not  worthy to be your son….Yes, yes, you - fatted calf, now! Let’s eat, let’s celebrate – you have come home, you were lost, and now you are found.  Praise God.

The family, the community stunned by the extravagant welcome of the father to the wayward child.  The older brother – speechless (well not quite) at the effrontery of his sibling but even more so angry at his father’s effusive welcome.  How dare they kill a fatted calf when he, the steady reliable one, had had not such celebration.  Who was the most deserving here, after all?

So on our scandal fact sheet:

Scandal fact no 1: That the son’s request for inheritance was complied with in the first place – the selling of God given land on the whim of an unappreciative child.

Scandal fact no 2: The Father puts loving before repentance – his effusive welcome and unconditional gathering in was before any words were spoken, any act of contrition carried out.

Scandal fact no 3: the prodigal didn’t have time to offload his guilt and shame, to be punished, diminished, made to pay.  He was overwhelmed with love without plea.

Scandal fact no 4: Older son’s arguments of justice and reward for good behaviour bears no weight with the father – in fact the Father is concerned that if he continues to take this approach he runs the risk of becoming as lost as his brother.

We need to hold this story in its context too - remember that it was told, along with the parable of the lost coin and of the lost sheep, as a response to the accusation by the Pharisees and the teachers of the law that Jesus both welcomes sinners and eats with them. Scandalous!  And that this story of the prodigal was his calculated response - and it centred around the throwing of a feast to celebrate the reconciliation of his family.  Inviting the tax collector, the sinner to join him at the table.

Hospitality was central to Jesus ministry – seen in so many of his stories and experiences.  But mealtimes were also a place of controversy for Jesus where he was seen to break the rules, mostly around who he sat down with.  You see, feasts for the Jewish people were places of belonging, a place where the sharing of the bread and the wine celebrated both the now and future salvation of God.  The Passover meal, the promise, the hope of deliverance.  The difference with Jesus invitation was, as Bill Loader says, the openendedness of the belonging – no one was excluded, not the tax collectors, nor the sinners nor the prodigal – all were welcome at the table with Jesus.  There may not be much bread or a surplus of wine in those simple homes, but all were welcome.  Jesus teaches us that it is around the table where reconciliation takes place, where right relationship is restored, where we each can be held in the profound love and unconditional welcome that is ours to accept – it was for this that Jesus lived and told stories and for this he would die, and just before his death would link the broken bread and the poured out wine to his broken and poured out life.  The table became the place of nourishment for life, for keeping the vision alive and for living in God’s welcome both now and for all time to come.  For all people.  Hear the good news of Jesus Christ.  Amen

Margaret Garland

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[1] Isaiah 55:8

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

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 21 February, 2016 Lent 2

Readings:  Genesis 15:1-7,  Luke 13:31–35

Let us pray:  May the words of my mouth, the meditations of our hearts be held in the light and love of Jesus. Amen.

We do not naturally trust God – Richard Niebuhr maintains that our first response, even though God is good to us, is to not trust God.  Because we hold, however deep down, this sense that we are not all that that good or deserving.  So the idea of being blessed beyond measure is too hard for us, needs some encouragement and promise that Abraham was extracting from God in his negotiations.

Children trust – we can easily picture a child under the wings of the hen – but can we see ourselves there?  We might remember the feeling with a sense of comfort and yet still fear to trust that God’s promise of love and comfort for us holds good now that we are adults. 

Trust is a really complex beast isn’t it.  We say we trust but want proof.  Or we trust where common sense should tell us it is the last thing we should do – scams bear testimony to that.  We refuse to trust anyone again when we have been let down once by one person.  We will all have experiences where we have trusted someone and been let down in some way.  And yet isn’t it better to be that way – take the odd knock – than never trust anyone.  I think so.  I would hate to be that cynical that I would see everyone as a hurt waiting to happen.

But it is another story when we talk about trusting God.  People can let us down – God does not.  Whether or not we choose to place our trust in God, God loves us and hold us under the wing of comfort and reassuring promise.  A story – of trust and of promise  ‘Tales of Grace: The Eagle who wouldn’t fly by Eve Lockett. [1]

Whether we be an Abraham, negotiating terms and conditions before allowing ourselves to fully believe or a timid baby eagle, needing a bit of a shove to get going, God is worthy of our trust and, if we will allow it, forever surrounds us with a love that sustains and comforts, holds us close. 

Is that what the lament for Jerusalem was all about, do you think?  The people had put their trust in a city, a building, a history: the messianic promise had become imprisoned by limited vision and bricks and mortar.  What use the house now, says Jesus?  Turn your eyes to Jerusalem but not to prestigious bits, the impressive buildings and the rich furnishings – you need to turn to the underbelly of the city, to the places of condemnation and suffering and death to truly understand how much your God loves you.  And to do that you have to trust your God will be with you.

So that is our challenge today –what kind of Jerusalem are we walking towards – uncomfortable underbelly or well-furnished security?  It is a bit of a difficult question.  For the Easter path asks quite a bit of us:

to take a journey not just for six weeks but for a lifetime,

to take the steps in trust and in faith, often out of our control

to walk it with Jesus, listening, trusting, being present. 

And that path will involve acknowledging that pain and failure are part of our journeys, that brokenness is real and belongs to each one of us. 

That vulnerability is not a weakness nor something to shun.

That we will get involved in politics, meet opposition and know disappointment on the way.

But it will also offer us a deeper understanding of the love of God made known through Christ – a love that transforms and enables us to go places we never would have imagined.

It will open to us a sense of the power of love to bring meaning and purpose to the least of us.

The path will guide us towards strangers, encourage us into new conversations and relationships, a pilgrimage with unexpected places on the way.

And it will lead us to the cross – for without the cross there cannot be a resurrection hope?  A dangerous path indeed but one which we are committed to walk as followers of Christ.

So what is it to be – lament to a dying city or trust in the one whose wings are wide enough, strong enough, faithful enough to hold us all in love and fly with us when we are strong enough to face our Jerusalem?

Margaret Garland

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[1] Tales of Grace by Eve Lockett.  Oxford: The Bible Reading Fellowship, 2005 p.112

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 7 February, 2016 Transfiguration Sunday

Bible Readings  Exodus 34:29-35,  Luke 9:28-36

Prayer:  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

God’s glory does shine, it certainly renders us conspicuous and its beauty absolutely disconcerts.  So says Thomas Currie. God’s glory revealed to Moses on Sinai and to Jesus on the mountain top.  Bible stories that take us into unimaginable mystery and astonishing assurance of God’s presence with us.

Take Moses- on Mt Sinai he had encountered the God whom heaven and earth could not contain, and came down to the people glowing with the experience, so bright he had to hide his face.  And the light shining him was powerful and compelling so that when he spoke to the people, they believed.  The light was conspicuous and beautiful, telling all that something incredible happened up there which strengthened and renewed him but also gave him an authority to deliver God’s word to the people.  He and his people were encouraged in their faith by the experience of God’s glory.  

Glory is not something that we do terrible well these days.  It’s a bit….brash, a bit conspicuous for us of the reformed faith -  and more so, it seems to be at odds with our often very pragmatic, work focussed, valley oriented faith ethic?  As if we feel the valleys are where we should be and the mountain tops something that calls occasionally but we are too busy trying to make a difference and often too frustrated to recognise that we actually would benefit from some encouragement, some mountain top experience that is God affirming and strengthening us for our ministry. 

The Gospel account of the transfiguration of Jesus comes as a time when we as a world are desperately in need of encouragement.  If we allow it, there are a myriad of things that will pull us down into despair – see if anything in this list resonates for you:

Climate change, crime, refugees, ISIS, economic terrorism, reverence for life and respect for choice, breakdown of family structure, healthcare, an exploited and damaged environment, power hungry idiots, clever self-centred global manipulators, education standards, sexism, racism, poverty, apathy…….

We need, at times like this, extraordinary encouragement to keep on going. 

So too did Jesus.  He had come to the moment when he was about to turn his face from exciting if exhausting ministry and mission throughout Galilee toward the ignominy of his welcome in Jerusalem, the welcome of the cross.

He had just been affirmed as the Messiah, ‘Who do you say I am?’ and he had spoken to his disciples of his coming suffering and death

I suspect he had his own list of despairs that he needed to place before his father and most certainly needed to turn to God for the strength to endure.  And he did what he always did in times of need, he found a place (this time he went up a mountain with Peter and James and John) and prayed. 

And God met him there in spectacular fashion, Moses and Elijah too were present and the disciples were awestruck.

It is interesting that we often approach the transfiguration from our perspective, concentrating the disciples reactions and what we can learn from them or the mystery and how to explain it but I wonder if we don’t somehow ignore the fact that this moment was actually for Jesus – that it wasn’t yet another thing he needed to participate in to convince disciples or followers, it wasn’t primarily about showing the world that he was the Messiah because God came to him on the mountain, but it was actually about Jesus needing some serious encouragement, some building up to take that path to Jerusalem. 

And God’s response – a moment of pure glory.

Just like Moses – a spectacular shattering of the boundaries of belief and expectation and a moment of supreme encouragement.

Moses and Elijah were there, the great law giver and the great prophet – they who were the very origins of Jesus journey brought a blessed assurance to his continuing journey.  They who were the towering experience in this world of God’s continuing love and eternal promise brought, by their very presence, a message to not be afraid, to be sure that the one who sends you will be faithful in seeing you through.  Moses and Elijah were there, whatever the mystery of their appearance, to reassure and encourage Jesus journey when he came down from the mountain.

Why did Jesus take his friends and disciples up there with him?  Not I think another deliberate teaching opportunity, but rather so that they would be with him, so that he could share with them the doubts and uncertainties, to be with those he considered his closest friends, to hope that they had his back.  And they did, simply by being there – despite their somewhat befuddled response they were part of the encouragement.

And the glory of God – the voice from the heavens, affirming Jesus where he was and encouraging both he and the disciples in what lay before them.  That not only empowered Jesus but what an endorsement to the disciples too. 

Encouragement all round.  They were some pretty thoughtful people that came down off that mountain that day, pondering that which they had experienced, absorbing the meaning of all they had seen and heard.  Rattled to their very bones I expect.

What does this understanding of the transfiguration as a time of God’s spectacular encouragement mean for us?  If we can say that Jesus needed and received extraordinary encouragement and empowerment, what about us?  And are we prepared to be the moments of encouragement for others?  Because that is what will happen as it did for the disciples who were with him

I think that Jesus offers us a pattern of faith here that can help us through in the face of strong winds of opposition or tides of resistance.  When our despair at the state of the world threatens to overwhelm us we don’t necessarily do ourselves any good by trying to tackle it all by ourselves – perhaps we need to climb our proverbial mountain, whatever it might look like and await – or like Moses demand – the encouragement that is time spent in God’s presence, for us to be not only affirmed and strengthened by God’s light shining upon us but also to reflect that light convincingly into the world for we too are the beloved of God.

For too often we are the people in the valley below – trying to do things in the way of God, but discouraged and demoralised because we have lost that clarity, confidence and purpose that the sense of the divine presence instils in us and that can encourage us to be extraordinary for God in the most difficult situations.  

The proximity of God enables us to embody and radiate God’s love in the world – the closeness calls and sustains us just as it did Jesus.  How can we not be encouraged by the presence of God in our lives and our world?  Find your mountain and spend some time there – and then come down to the valleys, Christ beside you, Spirit to guide you, God to sustain you.  Amen.

Margaret Garland

Resource:  The vocation of encouragement by James Forbes  https://sojo.net/articles/vocation-encouragement