Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 5 May 2019 Easter 3 Holy Communion

Readings  Acts 9:1-20    John 21:1-17

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.

Today on this third Sunday of the Easter season, the lectionary presents us with two readings that remind us of the grace of God made known in the risen Christ challenge our response to that grace.  One set some days after the astonishing event of the empty tomb and the other- well, later. There is some debate whether Paul’s Damascus Rd experience was, like the disciples, a meeting with the resurrected Jesus before the ascension or rather vision on the road after that.  

But that is not the issue here - what was important was the fact that this was a very big conversion, a huge change of understanding in one who was to become a pivotal disciple of Jesus– huge in the story of the Christian faith and the Christian church. 

It was a sensational turnaround for a zealot who remorselessly persecuted those who followed this man Jesus. 

He had demonstrated a ferocious commitment to stamp out these miscreants, these Christ followers – which might indicate perhaps that he was quite familiar with Jesus’ teachings and very aware of the danger to the Jewish faith that this new ‘teaching’ brought – that it threatened the sacredness of scripture and its law and therefore the unique status of Israel.  Yet, as if often the case, the very act of suppression was counterproductive – scattering the disciples far and wide, where they preached in synagogues they might not have gone to, had listeners that they might not have engaged with.

And was Paul really as convinced of the complete awfulness of this new teaching – Bill Loader suggests that perhaps, by the time he was heading off to Damascus, chasing down some of these refugee Christians, his very zeal was that of someone who feared that what he was trying to stamp out actually had some validity.  It’s not an unknown thing that those who fear the truth of something are the most opposed to it.

So perhaps what happened on that road that day, the voice from heaven, the blindness, the conversion from prosecutor to believer was into a soul that was troubled and disturbed already.  We can only wonder.

What we do know is that the overwhelming sense of love, embodied in Christ he encountered on the road and now flowing in those who had become the body of Christ, such as Ananias – this love broke through his barriers of fear and reached into his very soul.  Paul, instead of being an example of the wrath of God, became the recipient of the grace of God. 

Paul’s encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus was extraordinary, a ‘big’ change, a very new and unexpected commissioning.  Is it any wonder that Ananias was reluctant to go to him? It showed great courage to on his part to go minister to this man that by all accounts was out to destroy the fragile Jesus movement in first century Israel. Yet his words were also full of grace "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit."  And so Paul was and his journey with Christ and with us had begun….

And we know that Paul went on to use that same zeal he had used against the Christians to instead follow Christ’s teaching, often going far beyond where other disciples and apostles were prepared to go.  He refused to withhold regular table fellowship with Gentiles, resisting those who insisted on circumcising the same people, asserting that, in the love of God in Christ, legitimate biblical law became an outcome rather than a driver of righteousness.  He was just as determined, focused, powerfully intense in his ministry for Christ to the world as he had been in his previous denial of Jesus as the Messiah.

And so we come to the Gospel for today – John’s account of the appearance of the risen Jesus down by the lake to the fishermen.  You can almost hear their thinking:  ‘What were we to do?  We knew Jesus was alive – we had seen him – but then he went away again and there were no instructions.  So I suggested we go back to fishing – and the others agreed – we had to feed ourselves at the very least – we couldn’t exist on memories and fresh air.  But that wasn’t much use – not a splash of a fish in sight – maybe it was some kind of punishment for us leaving him when he most needed us – for our doubting, and our denials and our blindness of faith all those times.’ 

There is that sense that, like Paul, they were troubled and disturbed and not sure what direction they should be going in. They also seemed to be reluctant to approach Jesus – not sure of their reception perhaps.  And yet they came to the shore, Peter first among them, drawn to the hope that was this stranger beckoning them in. Drawn to the meal that was so much part of their experience of being in the presence of the living Christ.

And we can say that this also was a time when the grace of God overwhelmed the doubt and denial and uncertainty of the disciples as Jesus welcomed them and loved them.  But it was for Peter that this encounter was most life changing.

Again imagine it from Peter’s point of view – sitting there, breakfast finished, a private moment with Jesus when he was asked: ‘Do you love me Peter?’ Three times!   The first time was embarrassing, the second he started to get annoyed, the third time he understood, he knew that this was the recycling of denial into affirmation of his commission to go out and feed Christ’s sheep no matter where it would take him.

It’s is remarkable how, in the commissioning for ministry of both Paul and Simon Peter, the risen Christ overwhelms them with grace, empowering them to walk the way of discipleship, unashamedly and unconditionally.

And I guess the question for us is where are we holding guilts and fears and understandings which prevent us from striding with conviction into the paths that we know we should be walking. 

Where are we denying a truth because deep down we are afraid it might have a validity?  I think immediately of those who prosecute others in the name of Christ because to do otherwise might shift some of their established and containable brick walls they build around their faith.  Quoting bible verses in hate, seeking to drive out those who are different, refusing to eat with those who also come in the name of Jesus.

Where are we refusing God’s grace in our lives? I think of those who allow guilt of past failure to determine their worthiness (or not) before Jesus – whose denials feel stronger than their affirmations. And those who block out God’s merciful voice to them because they are too busy shouting at themselves.

Where are we adrift, directionless, stuck in a limbo of nothingness?  I think of those who are looking in the wrong place, fishing out of the wrong side of the boat, unable to trust that by the grace of God, new and unexpected paths are where we are to go. I think of people unable to hear the love of God in Scripture, drowned out as it is by judgement and hatred and personal agendas.  I think of those who allow fear to rule their lives and their choices.

There is much that we can ponder from these readings today – and, as we gather round the table together, may we be reminded of the grace of God made known in Jesus Christ, may we be reminded of the purpose that we live in as Christians – to love God and one another in all we say, do and be, may we forever remember that we are Christ’s body here in this community, this city, this world and that we have promised, with Peter, to feed those whom Jesus loves wherever it might take us.  God’s grace be with us all.  Amen.

Margaret Garland

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 5 May 2019 Easter 3 Holy Communion

Readings  Acts 9:1-20    John 21:1-17

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.

Today on this third Sunday of the Easter season, the lectionary presents us with two readings that remind us of the grace of God made known in the risen Christ challenge our response to that grace.  One set some days after the astonishing event of the empty tomb and the other- well, later. There is some debate whether Paul’s Damascus Rd experience was, like the disciples, a meeting with the resurrected Jesus before the ascension or rather vision on the road after that.  

But that is not the issue here - what was important was the fact that this was a very big conversion, a huge change of understanding in one who was to become a pivotal disciple of Jesus– huge in the story of the Christian faith and the Christian church. 

It was a sensational turnaround for a zealot who remorselessly persecuted those who followed this man Jesus. 

He had demonstrated a ferocious commitment to stamp out these miscreants, these Christ followers – which might indicate perhaps that he was quite familiar with Jesus’ teachings and very aware of the danger to the Jewish faith that this new ‘teaching’ brought – that it threatened the sacredness of scripture and its law and therefore the unique status of Israel.  Yet, as if often the case, the very act of suppression was counterproductive – scattering the disciples far and wide, where they preached in synagogues they might not have gone to, had listeners that they might not have engaged with.

And was Paul really as convinced of the complete awfulness of this new teaching – Bill Loader suggests that perhaps, by the time he was heading off to Damascus, chasing down some of these refugee Christians, his very zeal was that of someone who feared that what he was trying to stamp out actually had some validity.  It’s not an unknown thing that those who fear the truth of something are the most opposed to it.

So perhaps what happened on that road that day, the voice from heaven, the blindness, the conversion from prosecutor to believer was into a soul that was troubled and disturbed already.  We can only wonder.

What we do know is that the overwhelming sense of love, embodied in Christ he encountered on the road and now flowing in those who had become the body of Christ, such as Ananias – this love broke through his barriers of fear and reached into his very soul.  Paul, instead of being an example of the wrath of God, became the recipient of the grace of God. 

Paul’s encounter with the risen Christ on the road to Damascus was extraordinary, a ‘big’ change, a very new and unexpected commissioning.  Is it any wonder that Ananias was reluctant to go to him? It showed great courage to on his part to go minister to this man that by all accounts was out to destroy the fragile Jesus movement in first century Israel. Yet his words were also full of grace "Brother Saul, the Lord Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit."  And so Paul was and his journey with Christ and with us had begun….

And we know that Paul went on to use that same zeal he had used against the Christians to instead follow Christ’s teaching, often going far beyond where other disciples and apostles were prepared to go.  He refused to withhold regular table fellowship with Gentiles, resisting those who insisted on circumcising the same people, asserting that, in the love of God in Christ, legitimate biblical law became an outcome rather than a driver of righteousness.  He was just as determined, focused, powerfully intense in his ministry for Christ to the world as he had been in his previous denial of Jesus as the Messiah.

And so we come to the Gospel for today – John’s account of the appearance of the risen Jesus down by the lake to the fishermen.  You can almost hear their thinking:  ‘What were we to do?  We knew Jesus was alive – we had seen him – but then he went away again and there were no instructions.  So I suggested we go back to fishing – and the others agreed – we had to feed ourselves at the very least – we couldn’t exist on memories and fresh air.  But that wasn’t much use – not a splash of a fish in sight – maybe it was some kind of punishment for us leaving him when he most needed us – for our doubting, and our denials and our blindness of faith all those times.’ 

There is that sense that, like Paul, they were troubled and disturbed and not sure what direction they should be going in. They also seemed to be reluctant to approach Jesus – not sure of their reception perhaps.  And yet they came to the shore, Peter first among them, drawn to the hope that was this stranger beckoning them in. Drawn to the meal that was so much part of their experience of being in the presence of the living Christ.

And we can say that this also was a time when the grace of God overwhelmed the doubt and denial and uncertainty of the disciples as Jesus welcomed them and loved them.  But it was for Peter that this encounter was most life changing.

Again imagine it from Peter’s point of view – sitting there, breakfast finished, a private moment with Jesus when he was asked: ‘Do you love me Peter?’ Three times!   The first time was embarrassing, the second he started to get annoyed, the third time he understood, he knew that this was the recycling of denial into affirmation of his commission to go out and feed Christ’s sheep no matter where it would take him.

It’s is remarkable how, in the commissioning for ministry of both Paul and Simon Peter, the risen Christ overwhelms them with grace, empowering them to walk the way of discipleship, unashamedly and unconditionally.

And I guess the question for us is where are we holding guilts and fears and understandings which prevent us from striding with conviction into the paths that we know we should be walking. 

Where are we denying a truth because deep down we are afraid it might have a validity?  I think immediately of those who prosecute others in the name of Christ because to do otherwise might shift some of their established and containable brick walls they build around their faith.  Quoting bible verses in hate, seeking to drive out those who are different, refusing to eat with those who also come in the name of Jesus.

Where are we refusing God’s grace in our lives? I think of those who allow guilt of past failure to determine their worthiness (or not) before Jesus – whose denials feel stronger than their affirmations. And those who block out God’s merciful voice to them because they are too busy shouting at themselves.

Where are we adrift, directionless, stuck in a limbo of nothingness?  I think of those who are looking in the wrong place, fishing out of the wrong side of the boat, unable to trust that by the grace of God, new and unexpected paths are where we are to go. I think of people unable to hear the love of God in Scripture, drowned out as it is by judgement and hatred and personal agendas.  I think of those who allow fear to rule their lives and their choices.

There is much that we can ponder from these readings today – and, as we gather round the table together, may we be reminded of the grace of God made known in Jesus Christ, may we be reminded of the purpose that we live in as Christians – to love God and one another in all we say, do and be, may we forever remember that we are Christ’s body here in this community, this city, this world and that we have promised, with Peter, to feed those whom Jesus loves wherever it might take us.  God’s grace be with us all.  Amen.

Margaret Garland

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 21 April 2019 Easter Sunday with Holy Communion

Reading:  John 20:1-18

We pray:  Holy God, risen Christ, may we know you in your word, may we explore your way for us and may we be blessed in our service to those whom you love, to all people.  Amen.

I begin with a poem – written last year by Abby – she called it ‘Women’s Work’ – it goes like this:

We came there to do the work;

Nobody wanted to do it, so we went--

            It was for him.

Everything was all wrong,

The stone moved, the door open.

            We couldn’t find him.

Where have they taken him?

We asked the gardener,

            But it was him.

Suddenly all those times he spoke to us

Came to life,

            And it was him.

When he said he would rise,

This is what he meant.

            It was him – him!

We ran back so fast it was like flying.

Nobody understood us we talked so fast, but we knew

            It was really him.

We had been hoping for a saviour, a messiah,

Looking for a way to reach God,

            And it was him

            It was always him.

It was him, it was always him!  

How many times, I wonder, have we cast our eyes out to the horizon, to the far distant hills or the unseeable future looking for our messiah, only to find that someone has been tugging on our hand, saying ‘I am here, I am here.’

Abby’s poem really touched a chord for me – a new path, you might say, into the story of Jesus risen and in our midst.

It may not be the path she envisaged but it was the one I found.

I have to say we are truly blessed here with our creative writers –of psalms, poems, prayers, hymns – and I love the way each of them invites us to consider things anew.  Something that may have become a bit old hat suddenly takes on a new life because someone has been brave enough, enthused enough to share their innermost thoughts with this community – and further afield.  

And with this poem, I am encouraged to think about the times I have been looking in the wrong place for the presence of God – the respectable, the safe, the predictable places where I invite God to come to me.  And instead maybe we, like the women at work, need to come to that understanding that Jesus is to be found in the person of the gardener, the friend you walk the dusty roads with, the one you sit down to a meal with, the one you explore the living of life with.

The Jesus of Easter Sunday and the days to follow can be a conundrum for us – we might choose to stand for a while in the impossibility of this thing that has happened, this man come among us again.  And so we look for him in the miraculous, the far distant untouchable mystery, the ascended Christ shining with glory to whom we can only look with eyes averted lest we be blinded.   And yet Jesus takes pains to assure the disciples of his familiarity to them; to walk with his people, talk with them, eat with them, discuss scripture with them, to be beside them in their daily living.  He is trying to tell them that it really is him and he really is with us again. 

There is a sense that nothing has changed and yet everything has changed

The Jesus of Easter Sunday can also be the cause of much perplexity – has his body been stolen, did this really happen, it’s impossible, that can’t be him – that’s the gardener, surely……

Just like the women – time spent looking down trails that detour us, trails that we imagine because the reality seems too fantastic.  So much time spent on trying to find an acceptable explanation, a robust thesis of resurrection that will get pass marks.  So much time spent determining his status when in fact all we need to know is that it was him, is him – and he is here with us, now.

The Jesus of Easter Sunday is, too, the focus of much excitement – imagine the transformation of hope when the news spreads around, when even the doubters are convinced that this ‘thing’ has happened.  Imagine the hand reaching out saying ‘It is I!’ when you expected to return to a life without him.  Those lines: ‘We ran back so fast it was like flying. Nobody understood us we talked so fast….’

When was the last time we were that excited about discovering again the risen Jesus with us, of realising that despite every nail of fear and hatred that put him on that cross, he triumphed over death to come among us again; when was the last time we danced with excitement – now that can be metaphorical rather than physical – as we recognised the risen Christ, come among us still. 

Can I invite you in the time of reflection to ponder the Jesus of Easter Sunday for you, can we find anew that excitement and conviction that despite all our looking in the wrong places, it was always and will always be the risen Christ who moves among us in the most unlikely and commonplace people and places, bringing love and hope to us all.   Can we too, when we do stand to sing ‘Jesus Christ is risen today, Alleluia’, do so with delight and excitement for we have suddenly realised ‘ It is him, I have seen the Lord and he is with us, not stolen, not dead, not distant but alive and with us as we continue to work out God’s purpose here in this place.’ 

Margaret Garland

Prayer of Intercession for Palm Sunday

Palm Sunday in the Southern Hemisphere

The Autumn Equinox passed by a couple weeks ago

And the mornings and evenings are darkening; the nights overshadow the days.

              Lord, I prefer the light, you know I do.

              I love the bright mornings, the long twilights, the sunsets

              But you made the dark too, Lord, and it has its own beauty and meaning.

A later dawn means I see it more often.

We praise you for the dark.

The first day of Autumn slid by last week

And it’s cooling off, mornings are cold, nights are chilly.

              Lord, I love the warmth, you know I do.

              I love hot sun on my back, bright days of summer

              But you made the winter too, Lord, and it has its own rhythm and pace.

The cold dark brings us together indoors, time for blankets and hot dinners.

We praise you for the cold.

Daylight Savings turned over last week

And the leaves are coming down, blackberries ripe in the hedges.

              Lord, I love the green leaves and flowers, you know I do.

              I love crocus and snowdrop, lilac and forsythia, azalea and cherry,

              Rose and kowhai, iris and daisy and buttercup and rata

              But you made the leaves to fall, Lord, and they are colourful and lovely too.

The natural world takes a rest, I could learn from that.

We praise you for rest.

As Autumn swirls in, we pray for people in the dark:  lost, ignorant, alone, blind, heartbroken, sick, dying.

We pray for people in the cold: the homeless, the heartless, those travelling away from home, those who don’t have a home, people without a blanket or a place to go or hope.

We pray for people with no autumn harvest: not enough food, no clean water, no extra income for treats, no prospect of a better future, no work, no purpose, no joy.

We pray for others, as we pray for ourselves:

God give us light, Christ keep us warm, Holy Spirit enrapture and enfold us.

The world around us tells the story:  The colour, light and heat that is Summer cools and fades into Autumn and Winter.  But Holy Week and Easter show us that darkness, cold and bleakness have their purpose, and they cannot last.

Abby Smith

14 April 2019

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 14 April 2019 Palm Sunday

Readings: Psalm 118:1-2, 19-24,26-27,29     Luke 19:28-40

We pray: Loving God, open our hearts and minds to your word for us today – may we be challenged, intrigued, encouraged and strengthened today and everyday.  In Jesus name we pray.  Amen.

It was Palm Sunday.  On the road to Dunedin, Jesus preached love and the crowd went wild with enthusiasm.  They played guitars and sang songs about love, waved balloons and banners that said, Make Love not War, They are Us, Save the Planet.  The march made the headlines in the papers; TV cameras and cell phones recorded it and social media loved it (well mostly)

This was the people’s hero, everyone said, a man who could change the world.  Some day he would be Prime Minister!

When they arrived in the city, he told them what love was all about.     

Service, he said. 

Selling that second car and giving the money for the child who needed an operation.  Seeing all people as equal.  Judging no one.  Visiting folk in prison.  Sharing food and shelter with those in need. ‘If you have a spare room in your house, why not invite a homeless person to come and live with you?’ he said.

‘Love is not about words but actions.’ 

By the end of his speech, most of the crowd had drifted away.  They called him a waster of their time, a looney, one of those extremists and they crucified him with their anger and their disdain.

Joy Cowley[1] follows up this slightly adapted psalm with these words:

We tend to see love as some kind of currency to be earned, to be carefully spent, to be given away with caution.  That is not love.  Love is reckless, extravagant.  It comes without price and it has no need except to give itself away.  Love is the outpouring of God in us and through us.

Palm Sunday is an incredibly awkward day.  We really want to sit in the celebration, the anticipation of what Jesus is bringing about.  The hosannas are for real, the hope is growing, the journey of the Messiah is about to be realised.  And we want to enjoy that bolt of pure delight – it’s a rare occurrence these days – and we don’t want anything to spoil it.  So we take the moment, gladly.

And then we too enter the gates and the voices slowly quieten for there is an aura of danger, we see the authorities keeping an eye on this man, we feel the tension of those who see him as dangerous, likely to upset their settled world.  And within us, deep down, is the thought we have tried really hard to restrain – that this servant model just won’t work, it’s too hard, asks too much of us.

Our faith in the promise of the Messiah is shaken by our realisation of the living it out.  We recognise that the dream and the reality are going to create some awkward moments for us and we fade to the back of the crowd. For it asks too much of us.

Did anyone see that posting about a gun owner in Auckland who is most reluctant to give up his (get this) gold plated AK-47 citing it as one of his most precious pieces in his large military collection.  Asking way too much of him, he says.  If he hadn’t already stunned me speechless that anyone would gold plate an assault rifle, he did it with the next statement where he said: ‘while he never shoots the gun as it would damage the gold, he is not open to making the gun inoperable either, as this would decrease its value.’

I’m guessing there might be others who would not be so reluctant to let off a few rounds and ruin its value – oh and possibly a few lives along the way too?

Is it asking too much of us to step outside the safe bounds of the palm waving procession and to not just listen to but seek out the way that Christ’s word invite us into?  Aware always that we will have times of denial, of drifting past with our heads down and lingering on the edges of full commitment, do we at least sometimes throw ourselves in boots and all to the ‘dangerous’ ‘counter-cultural’ experience of sharing our love for others in the way Jesus did.

I think we do, I hope we do.  For our faith, as we have learned so abruptly this last month, cannot be held outside of the political, social, economic realm that is our world.  We need to have a voice, sometimes as Joy Cowley put it, a ‘reckless, extravagant’ voice into that which is hurting and harmful and horrific. 

Jesus did not keep himself apart from the world of hardnose politics and social deprivation and economic hardship.  In fact I read one opinion that suggested Palm Sunday was the most political day of the church year.   Really?

He was killed on a cross, they said, showing how much of a political event this was – if it was purely a church matter he would have been stoned to death as was the practice of the time.  But the fact that Jesus was on the cross meant that the civil authorities also saw Jesus as a menace. Jesus death was of the world, it was the world that he upset, the world he was a threat to.  You were stoned not crucified for your dangerous religious beliefs – the cross as the means of Jesus death points to civil unrest, as quote: ‘.. rooted in a political murder committed by security forces in occupied Jerusalem around the year 30 AD…’ 

Jesus, as he entered Jerusalem was faced with an impossible choice – if he entered into the argument with the authorities it would mean conflict – he would need to take coercive action.  Or – it would mean doing nothing because he came to found a kingdom of love and service - and coercion and conflict cannot be part of that.  So he chose to, by the eyes of the world, be a total failure, to be as nothing, trusting in his Father to respond with love and grace. He chose to show the world that complete obedience to love, that awkward, humiliating servanthood for the good of the world would, illogically, improbably, impossibly transform our world, would give us a glimpse of a kingdom of love and service. God did respond.  And so came a new way, a world of resurrection, God with us, a path of peace and service and justice. 

Kind our makes our hedging about feel a little precious doesn’t it?  Kind of encourages us to be love in action in this world of injustice and discrimination and hate doesn’t it?  Kind of strengthens us for the knockbacks and the uncomfortable places and the dark alleys we might have to walk down doesn’t it?  I hope so.

Jesus offers the way to peace.  Jesus yearns for the liberation of the oppressed, he weeps for the city and all who are in it, he refuses to buy into the power struggles or to turn his back on what might seem hopeless.

Love, reckless and extravagant, walked into the city this day and love, reckless and extravagant, was nailed to a cross for the world, that all might know the power of love, even over death. The kingdom of God is like this – it is the outpouring of love, reckless and extravagant, in us and through us.  We can do no less, for we have met the living Christ and nothing can ever be the same again – and for this we say: thanks be to God.  Amen.

Margaret Garland

---

[1] Palm Sunday by Joy Cowley from Come and See 2008 p.110 (adapted)

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 7 April, 2019 Lent 5 Holy Communion

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

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.

From Isaiah we hear God’s words: Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

Would I be right in thinking that Aotearoa New Zealand is in the midst of a new thing?  That our foundations have been shocked to the core and the opportunity for new ways of being is reverberating throughout our country across all communities. We are of course responding in different ways to the events of March 15 but I think it would be fair to say that there has been a paradigm shift in this land – a fundamental shift in our understanding of how we live which we are still trying to process. A new thing has happened!

It’s fascinating when you look at the history of new beginnings, revolutions, reformations, renaissances – how the passion and the clear understanding of a different, better way hold the headlines for a while and then often get subsumed into the ordinary, that which has always been and  the new thing can get a little lost or subverted.  Its ok and probably quite healthy that the very sharp edge of new ways, new understandings are slightly blunted because few of us could keep up that degree of focus, of clarity for long.  Yet history allows us to follow the direction of the change and our part in keeping it connected with the truths we had thrust upon us in the moment of discovery.  The question is always whether the core truth survives as we inevitably move back into what we were doing before; whether we continue to live as changed people because something has happened and nothing can be the same ever again.

We use this language as Christians, when we say that we have met the living Christ and our lives can never be the same again.  We say these words when we gather round the communion table – we have met the Christ in this place and it changes us, gives us a new beginning. It is a fundamental part of our faith, the transformation that occurs in our lives and our ways when we encounter Jesus.

By definition I guess there is always some slippage as we find our place in this new way. It takes time to change – why else do we have prayers of confession and assurance of pardon each Sunday?  And it takes work to change – being alert to the truth in a new way takes discipline and awareness – lots of it. And it can be uncomfortable to change because it assumes some analysis of what we were doing before that is no longer good enough

A month ago, how many people thought they were doing ok in cultural and interfaith relationships in this country?  Do we have the same belief now?  I suspect not.  Our thinking has undergone a change – and we realise a much more positive and pro-active role is required from us.  We are in a new place.

So too are the disciples about to be.  Their world is about to get a major shockwave as they approach the gates of Jerusalem and the events of the week to come. They think they are prepared, that they have come to terms with this new and radically different approach of their Lord, that they have absorbed all the teaching, understood and trusted in this new revelation of truth from God.  But it seems not.  As we hear the story of Jesus and the disciples gathering in Bethany at the house of Mary and Martha and Lazarus, it becomes clear that not all are ready for what is to come.   When Mary, with her insight into the ramifications of the raising from death of her brother Lazarus and in all her grief for what she knows is before Jesus; when Mary breaks the bottle of expensive anointing oil over Jesus’ feet, not all the disciples perceived the extravagant act as being either necessary or helpful.   In the Gospel of John, Judas is very much the unfeeling, uncaring villain of the piece, but in Mark there are multiple voices complaining of the waste.  Jesus gently chides them for their lack of understanding.

Because, in a sense, theirs are the voices of the old way – voices of logic and practicality - whereas Mary, who lets her act speak for her, is a voice that recognises the new order that is to come – she anoints for a different type of kingship – one that will come through the cross and the empty tomb.  One that will be a new thing.  By this act of deeply generous love she gives Jesus comfort and us hope in what is to come.

Thus says the Lord: I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?[1]

I don’t know, none of us do, what it was like to be in the shoes of those who had walked with Jesus all this time, the men and women who had shared a hope-filled journey that appeared to be heading for disaster.  Had some of them glimpsed the enormity of the change that was about to take place?  Did they perceive the power of this new thing that was manifested in their friend, their teacher, their Lord suffering and dying for love of them?  And do we understand how utterly the Easter experience is a new thing in our lives, a point of new beginning, something that changes forever our way of living and being?

And if we do, what would it look like – and what resistance might we meet on the way that would subvert us from the blinding clarity that is the Easter experience?

For in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus new directions, new understandings, a new way to walk is given to us. And it might look like this:

That we are to serve, and be served - not to rule or be served by right. 

So often we find that word ‘entitled’ creeping into our vocabulary where we add some judgement around where and when we serve.  The new thing is to serve from the whole of heart, spontaneous and extravagant just like Mary’s gift.

We are to love, not to hate, diminish, fear.  Every time we withdraw our love, leave some outside its circle, or choose to shut ourselves away from it in case it hurts, we the ones sitting in that room watching Mary and complaining of the waste.  The new thing is to be beside her, pouring out your extravagant love for the one who will suffer that you might know new life.

That we are a people of hope, not of despair or anxiety.  When we let ourselves be pulled down into that place of hopelessness, where we see no way forward because we are looking through our eyes alone, that is when we are resisting the Easter experience.  The new thing is to recognise that in Christ all things will come to be – to be strengthened in the love and grace of a God who sent Jesus to a cross not a jewel encrusted throne.

To trust God, not demanding proof of good will or holding back just in case. How many of us don’t quite trust that God has it in control and prefer our own way – kind of a plan b just in case God’s way fails.  Much of our paralysis as a people of faith comes from a failure to trust – that in a stranger God is found; that in ourselves, skills do abound, that in the extravagant gift of love that Mary recognised, the world is transformed.  The new thing is that the Easter message is true, that in God’s grace we are completely loved and in that love, equipped to transform the world.

And so, let us embrace this is the whole new way of being exemplified in this extravagant anointing of Jesus – let today and every day be a time of new beginnings built on service and love and hope and trust – and so we pray.

Oh God, today we give you our discontent, we give you our restlessness, and we give you our despair. Help us to be renewed in your abounding love, to cling to your wisdom, and to do the work that needs to be done. Amen.

Adapted from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals

Margaret Garland

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[1] Isaiah 43: 19

Sermon Opoho Church Sunday 31 March Lent 4 & Harvest Thanksgiving

Reflection by Rev Dr Simon Rae – Sunday 31 March, 2019 Lent 4, Harvest Thanksgiving

Readings: Deuteronomy 26:1-11, John 4: 31-38

‘Be grateful for the good things the Lord your God has given you and your family, and celebrate together with the Levite and the foreigner who lives among you.’

                                                                                                                   -Deuteronomy 26:11

Deuteronomy 26 embodies a ritual of Thanksgiving for Harvest

But also a Profession or Reaffirmation of Faith – set in the story of Israel’s experience of God.

‘A wandering Aramean was my ancestor…’  Then the whole history of Israel and God is remembered:

Egypt, Exodus, the Land of Promise,

‘..and now I come to bring the first fruits of the ground, which you O Lord have given me’

Production of Food – is a work and a blessing.

We remember the Jewish benedictions that have become part of the Christian liturgy of

Holy Communion       “Bread, which earth has given and human hands have made”

                                     “Wine, fruit of the vine and work of human hands”

Harvest celebration, in some form or other, was part of almost all ancient civilizations…

But the puzzle for us – in modern cities – is that we hardly ever see the beginning of our food chain (except in our own, or our neighbour’s, garden)

The whole process is out of our hands.   We live from other people’s work – on the land, transport, processing, distribution, marketing.

So, it is appropriate that we have brought some processed and packaged food… along with ‘raw’ food from our gardens.

If we follow the model of Deuteronomy 26 there are three tings to remember:

To be Grateful

To Celebrate

To Share.

To be consciously grateful, aware that in spite of the horror of recent weeks we enjoy a peace, security and freedom to get on with our own business, that is not the experience of many in our world.  To be consciously grateful – is not to take these things for granted.  We have been reminded how fragile they might be. Be we have a hope that some kind of new normal will allow us all to go on with our lives.

To Celebrate is central to Christian and to Jewish spirituality.  But it is a community celebration – together.

Deuteronomy is quite specific ‘celebrate together with the Levite and the Foreigner who lives among you.’  [Both groups were landless, unable to produce food from their own land].  They were to be included  - not left out.

It is difficult to find the right words right now –‘foreigner’ will no longer do.  Nor will the more technical translation ‘the resident alien’.

But the spirit of the instruction is clear:  ‘People whose origin or homeland was somewhere else, who are now living among us, are part of us,- and so are part of our celebration, part of the blessing which was given for all,

They are not ‘other’ – although they may do things differently, according to their custom,

they are not ‘different’  - not ‘they’ or ‘them’ but ‘us’ and ‘we’

And so part of our celebration,

Thirdly To Share:

In ancient times gifts would have been brought to a holy place, blessed and given out by hand to people who gathered expectantly;

Today we have whole networks in place – locally and internationally.  And we have globalized awareness.

As a congregation we support regularly, Presbyterian Support, the Night Shelter, the Food Bank and more – and individually or as families we take up a whole variety of opportunities.

-         To include those around us, and many we will never meet, in our

-         Inclusive Celebration

-         Thankful caring

-         Responsible thanksgiving.