'You're welcome!' - a sermon for Ordinary 13A

Texts:
Ps 89: 1-2, 5-16
Matthew 10: 40-42

One of my favourite kids worship songs

is a song by Fischy Music.

It’s a simple, cheery, song of welcome,

and the words are short and to the point:

‘Welcome everybody, it’s good to see you here    

- said x three -

gathered in this place.’

Who knows, I may yet get the chance to teach it to you all 

before I leave in September -

and this particular welcome song comes with actions - 

so you’ve all been warned!

Welcome...and actions...

In our gospel reading this morning,

we find Jesus talking of welcome,

a welcome that comes with actions...

a welcome that is, in this instance,

quite specifically aimed at those,

who follow God,

being made welcome.

Jesus says -

‘whoever welcomes you’ - Jesus is talking to his disciples here...

‘whoever welcomes God’s messenger’ -

prophets and preachers and anyone who proclaims the good news of God...

‘whoever welcomes a good man’ [or woman!] -

other versions of the bible translate this as

‘the righteous’

and lastly,

‘whoever welcomes the least of my followers’

and here, we have an action:

the welcoming of the least is linked to the most basic - 

the most fundamental - act of hospitality:

providing a drink of cold water.

In this passage, then, we see various

kinds of follower,

from the very visible, to the barely visible:

from the great and the humble, to those in-between.

And we learn that to welcome any who follow Jesus,

is to welcome Jesus himself.

Here we get a glimpse of how the followers of Jesus are, 

in effect, the body of Christ.

And we also get a glimpse of how we should see one another:

for in order to welcome someone,

we first need to see them.

The God who sees us

calls us to see each other -

but more than that:

to see the spark of the divine in one another:

to see God in each other.

There’s something of the sacred then,

in the act of welcome.

But, in order to recognise God in one another

how do we see God?

The way in which the writer of our psalm sees God,

whilst singing God’s praises,

give us some helpful clues concerning the nature,

the character of God.

The psalmist sings:

‘O Lord, I will always sing of your constant love;

I will proclaim your faithfulness forever’. ...

In the reading, ‘constant love’ and ‘faithfulness’ just keep cropping up -

in this particular extract, we get to hear about

both of these attributes three times.

Then there’s the uniqueness of God:

‘no one in heaven is like you...’

God is seen as ‘awesome’,

‘none is as mighty’,

God is ‘powerful’ and ‘strong’.

 We see how God’s strength can calm the

‘angry waves’ of the sea -

which, several centuries later will be demonstrated by Jesus,

on the Sea of Galilee,

in a boat,

in the midst of a fierce storm...

The psalmist praises a God who is

supreme,

creative,

imaginative:

The heavens, the earth -

belong to God,

who created the world

and all therein...

And in the midst of the psalm,

we have a key statement which gives us a huge steer,

not only in how we see God,

but how we see each other -

how we welcome each other.

That statement?

‘Your kingdom is founded on

righteousness and justice;

love and faithfulness are shown in all you do.’

At Presbytery on Thursday evening, the Moderator 

reflected on the various fruit of the Spirit: 

love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 

gentleness and self-control -

this list coming from Paul’s letter to the Galatians. 

And it got me wondering about how these are demonstrated

each time we see one another -

each time we welcome and worship and walk with God together.

While some of these may come a little more easily than others,

the list serves to help us begin to tease out

those kingdom values of

righteousness and justice

that the psalmist sings about,

for righteousness and justice is bound up

with building each other up

in love, in joy,

by being patient and kind,

good and faithful, gentle,

and having some modicum of self-control...

okay, let's just not mention chocolate biscuits!!

But welcome is not only about us.

While our gospel reading 

‘invites us to explore in depth the quality of the welcome 

that we offer to one another within the Body of Christ...

we must also reflect on the welcome we offer

to those who are not yet a part of this body.’ [FOTW]

For, echoing last week,

we worship a God who not only sees us,

we worship the God who sees the outsider:

in the case of last week, Hagar.

How then, might we extend God’s welcome

to those on the edges or outwith

the community of Christ’s followers?

...Sometimes, it may be as simple as a random act of kindness...

acts like the ones in the wee film that [ppt person]'s going to play for us now...

[FILM]

Who are the people around us,

unseen,

unnoticed,

ignored by the wider community?

As we wander through our neighbourhoods,

or along the High St,

who might we see?

who are the unwanted ones?

the unwelcome ones?

who are the thirsty ones -

the ones that we could give a drink of water to?

That we could extend God’s welcome to?

the ones who we see

as God’s beloved ones -

or even,

as Christ, in the stranger’s guise?

One very practical thing, that you,

as a congregation are already doing,

has recently been to come alongside

the work of the [name of local group] Project...

seeing young homeless folk,

and helping them to turn a space into a home

when they’re offered housing.

[Seaside Parish community worker] was telling me on Thursday morning

that through your care and kindness,

the second of the starter packs

has already been given away.

Another young person has been given more than a cup of cold water:

that particular way of extending welcome is a ‘welcome to your new home.’

That’s just ...awesome...

I may be biased, but...so are all of you -

Keep up this good work:

the work of active welcome.

Practicing acts of kindness -

whether random or intentional -

is part and parcel of extending welcome:

to welcome someone

is to acknowledge their existence.

In a time and culture that’s geared towards suspicion and mistrust,

the act of welcoming someone is perhaps 

the most radical thing that we can do:

and welcoming those deemed

the last and the least -

those who some would prefer to be

out of sight and out of mind,

is a pretty random act of kindness indeed:

something that seems to make no sense...

And yet,

in God’s kingdom of righteousness and justice it makes complete sense.

For in the radical act of welcome,

as you see,

really see others

you may just come face to face with Christ.

And now, to him be all glory, honour and praise.  Amen.

Sermon for Trinity Sunday 2014: 'A Trinity of Love'

And so to Trinity Sunday... gave a brief nod to sermon preached several years back with regard to referring to Rublev's icon 'The hospitality of Abraham'.  

Had stumbled upon the legend of St Augustine during the week, so decided to do a little creative rewriting of the story.  Had wondered if, in the telling of the story, the congregation might be poised waiting for a punch-line...and hoped they wouldn't: was wanting to build an initial atmosphere of the strange and mysterious.  Was pleased: it worked

Earlier on in the service, read 'Three', a reading for 3 voices.  

'THREE'

[not sure of the source for this reading, but will happily credit it if someone knows!]

All 3 voices     We believe in God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Voice 1     The three in one and one in three,

Voice 2     God in three persons

Voice 3     Blessed Trinity.

All 3 voices      We believe in the God who came to meet us in Jesus Christ,

Voice 1     Born as one of us,

Voice 2     Preaching and teaching amongst us,

Voice 3     Dying, rising and ascending to bring us life.

All 3 voices     A story in three parts:

Voice 1     Wise men from the east bringing three                

                 gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh, to worship the newborn Christ child.

Voice 2     As a teenager he stayed behind in the Temple for three days 

                to argue with the elders.

Voice 3     As a man, he was tempted three times by Satan in the wilderness.

Voice 1     His ministry lasted only three years, yet his teachings survive into the third millenium.

Voice 2     There were three people present at the transfiguration, 

                Peter, James and John, who witnessed Jesus talking with Moses and Elijah.

Voice 3     Nearing the end of his ministry, Jesus vowed to destroy the Temple and rebuild it in three days.

Voice 1     He spoke three times about his impending death.

Voice 2     He overheard Peter deny him three times in the High Priest's courtyard in 

                his hour of need.

Voice 3     He was led to sacrifice like the prized three year-old lamb 

                specially reserved for the Passover meal.

Voice 1     He stumbled three times on his way to Calvary.

Voice 2     There were three crosses.

Voice 3     Jesus died at three o'clock

Voice 1     and rose again, three days later.

Voice 2     He gave Peter three opportunities to redeem himself by declaring his love.

Voice 3     And commands us to love three times: ourselves, our neighbours and God.

Voice 1     We believe in the Holy Trinity,

Voice 2     God in three persons:

Voice 3     Father, Son and Holy Spirit. 

All 3 voices     We believe in God.

Sermon: 'A Trinity of Love'

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts 

be acceptable in your sight, 

O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer.  Amen.

It was a mystery.

And he had been puzzling over it for near on 30 years.

He had written thousands upon

thousands of words

and yet, none of them felt adequate.

All of them fell short of the mark.

How do you describe the indescribable?

How do you try to comprehend the incomprehensible?

It was a daunting task;

It was madness:

a work that could never be completed

in a single lifetime.

It was a mystery, a puzzle, an enigma.

One day, as he walked on the beach,

his mind overwhelmed by the

immensity of the task,

he saw a young child playing.

As he watched, the child dug a small hole,

then ran to the water’s edge with a shell in hand.

Gently, carefully, the child filled the shell with water

and tiptoed back across the sand.

The shell was upturned, and water trickled into the hole;

the child then went back to the water’s edge.

The great thinker watched, as again, and again,

the child with the tiny shell 

moved between the water’s edge and the hole,

collecting, carrying, pouring.

Walking up to the child, he smiled.

‘What are you doing, little one?’ he asked.

The child looked up at him with a solemn face and replied:

‘I’m trying to pour the ocean into this hole.’

The great thinker considered the child’s answer for a moment

and responded gently:

‘But the ocean is vast. 

What makes you think that you can empty the immense ocean

into this tiny hole,

with just a small shell?’

The child continued to look solemnly at the great thinker and said quietly:

‘And what makes you think that you can comprehend the immensity of God

with your tiny mind.’

And with that, the child vanished

leaving the great thinker alone

on that empty beach

looking at a tiny hole in which sea water

seeped into damp sand...

Today we celebrate, and reflect upon, mystery:

a mystery that the Church has puzzled over for near on 2 000 years.

There have been thousands of words written -

including the thousands written by the great thinker we heard about in the story -

the 5^th century African theologian Augustine -

and while the story of Augustine’s

strange beach encounter

may be mere legend....

in this second decade of the 21^st century

we are still none the wiser about the mystery he was pondering.

Words are not enough;

all of them fall far short of the mark

as we try to describe the indescribable,

and comprehend the incomprehensible:

the mystery and immensity of God,

Father

Son

and Holy Spirit -

one God

in three persons...

...blessed Trinity.

It is a mystery

this business of the Trinity

yet, every year, for near-on 2 000 years,

church communities have listened as preachers have used a variety of examples 

to try and come close to explaining the inexplicable:

God like a shamrock - three leaves but one stem

God like water in 3 forms: water, steam, ice...

but still water

God like an egg: shell, yolk, white...

All of these okay, but yet, not quite right.

It’s a tough job...

so perhaps we should just stick to the

Athenasian Creed -

you can almost hear the writers sighing and shrugging as they wrote:

God the Father: incomprehensible

God the Son: incomprehensible

God the Holy Spirit: incomprehensible.

But is mystery necessarily a bad thing?

And will we cope if we haven’t got the answer

to every single question this side of heaven? 

I suspect... yes.

And I also suspect, from scripture, that we don’t get to know the whole shebang 

this side of heaven anyway:

Paul, in his first letter to the Corinthians, notes:

‘for now we know in part: then we shall see,

face to face.’

Personally, I kinda like the anticipation, and of knowing 

there’s a whole lot more to come.

So, if we don’t get to unravel the whole mystery of who God is 

and what this matter of the Trinity is about, 

where might we go from here?

If we explore God as Trinity within the context

of love and belonging and relationship,

- concepts that are a little more easy to get our heads around -

how might that affect the way in which we live our lives?

In a small nod to ecumenism: the 1982 communion liturgy 

of the Scottish Episcopal Church, 

paraphrasing the 1^st Letter of John, states that:
‘God is love and we are God’s children.

There is no room for fear in love.

We love, because God loved us first.’

For me, this gets to the heart of the matter:

relationships of love.

God is love...

and our response to that love.

In the 16^th century, the Russian artist

Andrei Rublev

tried to paint his understanding of the Trinity:

Father, Son, and Spirit.

It’s the picture you have in front of you

on your order of service - and up on the screen. 

Rublev was very much trying to demonstrate

a sense of God living in harmonious

and perfect community.

This sense of unity within the relationship of each of the figures 

is indicated by the way their heads incline one to the other, 

almost making an outline of a circle. This shows how they're 

bound together as one by a common will and mutual love: 

love unites them.

...God, as a Trinity of love:

God the Father: the one who loves

God the Son: the beloved

God the Holy Spirit: the love that flows so strongly between Father and Son, 

that it takes on shape and substance of its own.

And, mirroring this, for us created in God’s image, we might ask:

How do we love?

Who do we love?

What is the impact of that love on others?

It is a mystery, this business of the Trinity

and yet, the overarching theme appears to be about community;

to be about relationship.

In our readings this morning,

both contained mention of God as Trinity:

it’s the formula Jesus gives his followers

when he sends them out to make disciples and to baptise them -

in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit -

the holy community that is God.

And the one who is baptised, enters into the church -

the community of God’s people.

As God is in the perfect community of the Trinity,

so those who believe

are to live within the context of community -

journeying together into the mystery

and heart of God

and learning and following, despite our imperfections, the way of love.

This sense of relationship - of belonging to God -

and of being a part of God’s people -

is brought out in our reading from 2^nd Corinthians.

And the background to the reading from Corinthians is significant:

Paul is writing to a community that’s wracked with in-fighting,

jostling for power positions,

squabbling over doctrine,

and causing scandal throughout the city, due to some quite 

outrageous behaviour among the believers.

Here, at the end of his letter, Paul is reminding 

this rather fractious community of believers

of whose they are,

and how they should live...

lives modelled on the holy and harmonious relationship

of Father, Son, and Spirit:

lives lived in grace, love, and fellowship.

And every time we say the grace together -

which is from this passage -

it’s a handy reminder to us, 

of just whose we are and how we should live -

how we should love God, and love one another.

And there’s an openness to love.

Our painting by Rublev has an open space

at the front:

it’s as if we’re being invited in to sit at the table...

God looks outwards, not inwards -

looking out in love towards us,

towards the world.

In turn, we are to look outwards not inwards -

look in love at the wider world around us:

to welcome all people,

to demonstrate heavenly hospitality

on earth as it is in heaven:

to build communities of love -

as in the prayer of St Francis:

‘where there is hatred, sow love,

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.’
And, as we go out marching in the light of God, and into the world, 

and build communities of love, 

we have the promise from the gospel of Matthew:
Jesus says: ‘I will be with you always, to the end of the age.’

['marching' was a nod to the singing group, who were following the sermon

with the song 'We are marching in the light of God']

The Trinity:

it’s a mystery.

One that will continue to puzzle

until the end of time.

Thousands of words will be added to those already written;

all trying to comprehend the incomprehensible

and never really succeeding.

But in the end, what matters is this:

love:

the love of the God who dwells

in perfect community

the love of God whose love is limitless, immeasurable

and welcomes us in -

the love that creates a place at the table for all...

And, as God loves,

so we are to reflect that love

because:

we believe in God:

Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,

the Three-in-One and One-inThree,

God in three persons,

Blessed Trinity.

Amen.

'Love God, and do what you like': a sermon on Exodus 20:1-20

Given the gospel passage, I moved away from the RCL OT suggestion,
and went for Exodus 20:1-20... and then found myself focusing upon that
and only giving a very brief nod to the set gospel text for Sunday.
I love the suggested Acts passage, but maybe next time around I can preach on that!!
This is the last in a 3-part series that has focused upon:

• 'what is the church' - we are - called into community
• 'what does the church do' - tell God's story - we are a community of story
• 'how can we be church' - some handy guidelines via 10 Commandments

I had been reading around quite a lot, so there may be some accidental plagiarisation!

Sermon ‘Love God, and do what you like’

Picture the scene:

the wind is blowing mightily.

The very air is alive with crackling tension:

Thunder thunders,

lightning flashes,

there is a sound of trumpets in the air....

Swirling smoke and cloud cover the mountaintop.

Far down below, in the shadow of Mt. Sinai, 

people huddle together trembling, afraid...

trying to find a little distance

from the terror and the noise

and the all-pervading,

utterly terrifying, voice

of the all-powerful God.

...

Too much.

it’s all too much to bear –

and if they hear much more,

the people feel that they will surely die....

The description of the giving of the ten commandments 

is certainly not filled with fluffy bunnies, pretty butterflies,

or people skipping merrily along the way. 

Nor, for that matter, does it feature Charlton Heston 

in glorious cinemascope, with his long, grey beardy locks blowing in the wind –

as much as I, and Hollywood, certainly would like it to.

Rather, it is quite literally awe-some:

designed to make you pay attention. 

Something big is happening here,

something of tremendous importance: 

God... speaks. 

The people of God tremble.

They think of death...

and miss the point completely:

God speaks.

Ten words.

Words of life,

not death.

Words of liberation,

not captivity.

‘Law’...and...’liberation’?

But surely, ‘law’ and ‘liberation’ in the same sentence 

must be a bit of an oxymoron:

are contradictory? 

Don’t quite...compute.

Or do they? 

                                                                     

An Orthodox Jewish reading of the ten commandments has as the first commandment:

‘I am the Lord you God who brought you up out of the land of Egypt, out of bondage and slavery.’

Bill Wylie-Kellermann, writing for the magazine Sojourners asks:

‘This is a command?’

And he continues, by answering his own question: 

that it’s a command that focuses upon the identity of the people of Israel...

and of what God has done...

it’s a command that implies

to those who have ears to hear it:

‘Know that whose you are

precedes what you do.’  

...you are God’s people...

this, then, is how to live as God’s people...

Which, if you like, is picked up in our gospel reading, where Jesus observes:

'if you love me, you will obey my commandments'

But are the 10 commandments merely just a bunch 

of rules and regulations designed to spoil our fun?

As someone who’s been a very keen student of church law,

of course, I’d be inclined to say ‘no!’

And I’d add that law –

rules, regulations, codes of practice,

however you might describe them –

often get a bad press, which, I think, is a little unfair. 

On the other hand, it is fair to say that the manner 

in which the ten commandments are phrased doesn’t seem to help:

‘thou shallt not...’ is not the most positive of starting phrases, after all. 

The phrase is a little like a verbal slapping before you’ve actually done anything.

‘Don’t do that!’

slap...

‘Stop it!’

slap...

It feels almost designed to beat us into submission...

Here, I probably should confess that, in my head 

there’s a picture of God as Clint Eastwood, 

saying to potential offenders:

‘Go ahead, make my day...’ 

slap.

The ‘thou shallt nots’ are all too easy to caricature, and in doing so,

misrepresent what I believe to be the actual intent of the commandments.

At this point, I’m really, really, really hoping you’ve all been given a copy of ‘the positive 10’ in your orders of service... and if you take them out now, we’ll be referring to them a little. 

When I stumbled across this version of the commandments, 

it really helped me see them with fresh eyes – 

and do feel free to take them home with you and pin to your fridge!

Let’s go back to that comment about knowing 

‘whose you are’ preceding ‘what you do’...                                                           

And while we’re at it, let’s also lose the word ‘commandment’ –

in the original context this was known as ‘decalogue’ –

ten words.

The ten words are almost a foundational document of liberation:

And that liberation is founded on relationship.

Let’s have a look at the first four commands, or ‘words’ –

These first four ‘words’ concern

God in relation to God’s people,

the people in relation to their God...

Just ‘whose’ are these people?

They belong – are in relationship with –

 the One who freed them from captivity,

who took them out of Egypt, 

and on a journey into the wilderness wastes,

a journey where daily, they saw God’s saving hand at work:

keeping them fed and watered on the way.

A rocky journey at times, and this is not just a comment on the terrain...

mumblings, murmurings, complaining:

even doing a little revisionist history concerning their time in Egypt –

to the point where some were inclined to believe that slavery, 

on the whole, was actually pretty darned good –

But now, at the foot of Mt Sinai,

they are no longer Pharoah’s:

they are God’s particular people,

and God begins the process of guiding them 

into a particular way of being,

Having liberated them for a particular purpose,

they are now in the process of learning what it is to live in relationship with God...

and, as we look at the other six ‘words’,

learning how to live in relationship with each other - their neighbour.

Ten words,

calling God’s people to serve God, 

and each other, in love, 

Ten words that are a radical call for commitment to God 

and to neighbour... and extending to all creation.

Ten words that continue to confirm my growing suspicion 

that God is indeed a Presbyterian: 

after all, these words enable life to be lived decently, and in good order!

God, in the giving of these words to the ones liberated from Egypt,

provides a way in which order is created out of the former chaos...

and reinforces that, even in the wilderness,

life can be meaningful, and fruitful -

importantly, that in the midst of it all, 

that there should be time to rest: 

a clear message that there is more to life than work – 

that we are defined by being in God, not by what we do.

These ten words paint an alternative picture to their previous life in Egypt:

a place where there was little interest in regeneration and rest and no freedom....

And, in contrast to the Egyptian custom,

the commandments don’t sanction a human king 

or a leader to assert power over, or demand allegiance from, the people.

The community isn’t going to be defined 

according to the whims of power-hungry human rulers.

Instead the commandments demand loyalty and obedience to God alone.

The commandments also serve to formalize the connection 

and the relationship between the realms of God and this particular people.

As Patrick Miller eloquently expresses it: 

‘...neither community, nor deity have separate existences 

once the covenant is established. Even though both 

experience real abandonment on the part of the other 

for a time, they are forever linked.’

But what about us?

God’s people, the church...

God’s living stones...

called into community...

called to tell God’s story?

We certainly haven’t been released from captivity in Egypt...

and given the dreary weather this last couple of days, 

it’s not as if we’ve been stumbling about the searingly hot wilderness of Sinai....

So, what might these ten words have to say to us in our situation,

as we sit comfortably in our seats here in parish by the sea?

I’m fairly sure that most of us here are aware of the ongoing talk of the church

being in a kind of terminal decline. 

Of talk concerning how we, in the Church of Scotland in particular, 

no longer seem to hold the privileged place in society 

that we used to when it came to having some 

kind of public influence when decisions and statements 

were made at the General Assembly.

Everything seems to be shrinking away and the glory days seem long ago.

In that sense, are we, in a different way to the Israelites, 

in a type of wilderness?

Is there a small sense of terror, 

as we watch the depletion of resources...

and of the depletion of people and skills,

of time and talents?

And like the Israelites, do we long for a return to the good old days? 

Journeying in the wilderness can be terrifying –

all the securities and apparent guarantees of survival are gone.

But the wilderness could also provide the church 

with an opportunity to re-define itself according to what matters most,

and in doing so, find fresh ways of touching the hearts of all we encounter;

for in the wilderness, free from unnecessary distractions,

we are reminded of whose we are:

God’s particular people,

In this particular time and place at Seaside Town,

in our homes,

or wherever, and whoever, we are with.

What might our lives look like if we lived 

the Ten Commandments as invitations to freedom,

to life, rather than a set of rules to be followed?

What would life be like if we lived in the awareness 

that life comes from God, 

that we don’t need to worship the false god of consumerism,

or bow down to the idol of celebrity? 

What if we celebrated that we can still freely and publicly 

speak God’s name in praise and prayer?

What if we recognised that life was about more than work 

and took up God’s invitation to Sabbath?

What if we took up God’s invitation to respect people,

honour life, and honour relationships?

And what if we were on the receiving end of that respect and honour?

What would that feel like?

...What would life be like?

Writer Joe Roos notes that:

‘the Ten Commandments don't begin with:

'Here are ten commandments, learn them by rote,' or

 'Here are ten commandments, obey them.'

Instead, they begin with a sweeping announcement of freedom:

'I am the Lord your God, 

who brought you out of the land of Egypt, 

out of the house of slavery'.

We will probably always think of the declarations that follow 

as the Ten Commandments.

But we could,

and probably should,

think of them as invitations to God's ...liberation.’...

the ‘positive’ ten.

As we learn what it is to walk in the freedom 

that God gives to each one of us, 

I’m reminded of the words of 5^th century theologian, Augustine, 

who famously said:

‘love God, and do what you like’...

meaning that, although there will be the occasional glitch, 

for we’re none of us perfect yet...

if we love God,

what we like

will tend to be that which pleases God...

for we are his, 

and he is ours,

and we live within the immense bounds of his amazing grace.

Let us pray:

Faithful God,

We ask your help as we grow in our relationship with you.

Life-giver, love-bringer, liberator,

As we learn together to love and to serve you,

May our hearts so incline towards you,

that all our deeds become an expression of lives lived in love – 

of you, and of our neighbour.

We ask this in Jesus’ name.  Amen.
*******************************

The Positive 10:

Put God first. 

Give worth to the one who gives worth to you.

Use God’s name with respect and love.

Spend time thinking about God.

Honour and love your whole family.

Live towards other people with love and generosity.

Find the richness in faithfulness towards others.

Celebrate what you have rather than dwell on what you don’t.

Speak well of others and truthfully to yourself.

Why get down about what others have when you can share what you have with others?

'Stones and stories': sermon for Easter 5A

Oh dear... could try harder.  Was so *not* in sermon-writing mood...in the end, just a lot of thoughts desperately in search of a sermon - with a little Manicheism thrown in for good measure...Augustine would be most disappointed :(

Nevertheless, a sermon, of sorts, based primarily on the 1 Peter text.

1 Peter 2:2-10 and John 14:1-14

Tell me the old, old story

of unseen things above,

Of Jesus and His glory,

of Jesus and His love.

This last week, I’ve been thinking about stories...

and I’d quite like to do a wee straw poll with you:

what are some of your favourite stories? 

[allow folk to respond] 

But what’s all this business about stories got to do with our bible passages, I hear you ask...

And that’s a very good question! 

Last week, we thought about the question:

'what is the Church...?'

We looked at the very beginnings of the Church, as described in the Book of Acts,

and we were reminded that the Church... is us...

the people of God, called into community -

a learning community;

a worshipping community;

a sharing and supportive community;

a community of thanksgiving and praise.

This week, developing the theme a little more as we heard the reading from 1^st Peter,

we’ve another aspect to add, which is:

a story-telling community.

In this, I’m very much thinking of Peter’s description 

of the followers of Jesus as ‘living stones’ -

‘come to the Lord, the living stone...

come, as living stones’

Stones and stories - what do they have to do with each other?

Let’s first look at the context in which this letter is written.

Within the letter itself we have an idea of the intended, original audience:

in Chapter One, the writer,

who may or may not be Peter,

addresses his readers as

‘God’s chosen people who live as refugees scattered throughout the provinces’ of what we refer to as Asia Minor.

The term ‘God’s chosen’ appears several times throughout the letter -

an encouragement for folk who appear

to be not only refugees, but along with that, scattered - or separated - from home, family, the larger body of Christians.

Following the opening greeting, the writer begins to talk of ‘trials’ and ‘sufferings’ -

there’s the possibility here that this wee, scattered lot of people are suffering persecution for their faith.  However, this might just refer to the difficulties of following Jesus, and how that impacts upon the general customs and culture of the day.

Within the letter, the writer also gives some practical tips to assist with living life as a follower of Jesus.

Overall, the aim of the letter is to encourage and affirm these ‘chosen’, possibly persecuted refugees... to assure them that:

• there is a point and purpose to their lives;
• that they’ve been liberated from darkness into light;
•  that they are part of the body,
• that they belong to God and
• that they can rely on God, who calls them His people...‘living stones’.

Stones...and stories:

The stone metaphor is an odd one:

stones are more associated with...

well, just ...

sitting there being rather lifeless...

but here in our reading,

each stone is infused with the Spirit of God -

alive - active:

these stones live...

not unlike dry bones, in a dusty valley, also live, once God’s Spirit breathes upon them, remembering that passage from several weeks back from Ezekiel.

But whether bones, or stones,

God brings life - even when it appears unthinkable, impossible...

but then, God managed to roll away a stone

from a tomb

and out sprang the promise of resurrection and new life:

Jesus -

the stone that the builders rejected -

the living stone...

With God,

all things are possible, even living stones...

living stones that have a story to tell.

Stones and stories:

if these living stones could speak,

what would they say?

1^st Peter provides some clues.

The living stones, God’s own people, have been:

'chosen to proclaim the wonderful acts of God, who called you out of darkness and into his wonderful light...’

Living stones;

story-telling stones.

As I read about stones and of ‘proclaiming God’s wonderful acts’, I couldn’t help but cast my mind back to Palm Sunday...

the crowds are being gloriously, riotously cheerful - it irks the Pharisees, who complain to Jesus

and ask him to tell the crowd to be quiet.

His joyful response?    

‘I tell you, if they keep quiet, these stones would shout aloud!’

So then, our Peter passage is not the first time we encounter the possibility 

of lifeless stones becoming living stones -

story-telling stones.                                                     

A story that hints at our communal identity -

who we are...

and, whose we are.

But what is the story?

In the words of the old hymn:

Tell me the story slowly,

that I may take it in,

That wonderful redemption,

God’s remedy for sin.

                                                                          

Redemption: it’s one of those big theological words that gets pulled out, 

and dusted off, every now and then.

It’s a word most often associated with what happened to Jesus on the Cross

and how it impacted upon the whole of humanity.

And over the course of centuries,

theologians have been at it hammer and tongs trying to work that out.

Stones and stories:

One of my favourite writers, Paulo Coelho once commented 

that when all was said and done, there were really only four themes when it came to stories:

a love story between two people,

a love triangle,

the struggle for power,

and the story of a journey.

In a sense, the story the living stones tell is a combination of these four themes...

the love story?

- of God for humanity;

the love triangle?

- the alluring whispers of a serpent in a garden;

the struggle for power?

- between light and dark, goodness and evil;

the story of a journey? -

exile from the garden, and the long journey back to that first love,

the journey back to God...

But also, another journey -

God’s journey - involving the vulnerability of incarnation:

of becoming one of us

to show us the way

in and through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus

It is a story of pain and sacrifice,

love and separation

redemption and reunion - for love always wins.

This is the story that God’s living stones proclaim.

Gathered together here, as God’s people,

as his living stones,

each one of us comes with our own story

- of whose we are ... family ties, connections, relationships;

of where we’ve come from,

where we are,

and where we hope to go

as we journey along our life’s path...

Each story different, unique...

and yet, as we gather together as God’s people,

each of us shares in a common story:

the story that brings us here today...

The story passed down to us by the living stones of the church 

going all the way back to the very earliest living stones...

All of us, church visible and invisible, building a spiritual house 

'where love can dwell and all can safely live.'

As God’s living stones

as God’s story-telling stones,

how might we tell the story?

How might we proclaim the marvellous acts of the one 

who has brought us out of darkness into his marvellous light?

How might we live God’s story in our lives this week?

How might we:

Tell out the old, old story,

tell out the old, old story,

Tell out the old, old story,

of Jesus and His love.

Let’s pray:

Holy God, we give you thanks
for the gift of Your Son, Jesus
the Word, the way,
the truth, 

the living stone,
who expands our
limited understanding
with outstretched arms
of love.

As your living stones

breathe your Spirit upon us

renew us

refresh us

excite us

that we may go out into your world 

to proclaim your marvellous works.

In Jesus’ name

amen.*

*prayer borrowed and slightly added to, with thanks to RevGals!

'One heart, one love': sermon for Easter 4A based on Acts 2:42-47

Acts 2: 42-47; John 10:1-10

Let’s pray:

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be acceptable in your sight, 

O Lord, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

As the poet, John Donne, famously wrote:

‘No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
...A part...

of the main.’

In our gospel text this morning, Jesus talks of coming 

that we might have life in all its fullness - abundant life...

And, as we listened to our reading from the Book of Acts -

the story of the very beginnings of the Church -

we discover that life in all its fullness

is not one that’s lived in isolation:

abundant life ...

the Christian life...

is necessarily ...communitarian:

we’re not called to live out our faith in glorious isolation;

we are the body of Christ...

one body, and each of us making up the many parts. 

Throughout this week, 

on the back of a couple of conversations with different folk, 

I’ve been pondering the question:

‘what is the Church?’ 

And in our reading from Acts we catch a glimpse 

of what church might be for those earliest of Christians -  

behaviours and ways of being that might act as wee touchstones or signs for us,

as we think about what church is.

So, let’s examine our Acts passage a little more.

We’ve already worked out that for the folk in Acts, community was important -

the text says that ‘they continued together in close fellowship’...

and ‘day after day they met as a group in the Temple.’

The comment that:

‘You don’t have to go to church to be a Christian’, 

is a comment that’s just not on their radar. 

And also, it just wouldn’t make sense to them:
‘go to the church?’

No.

They don’t have to ‘go’ to the church

because...    they ‘are’ the Church.

The Church, as the song goes,

is wherever God’s people are praising...

Or, as that other song observes:

I am the church

You are the church

We are the church together...

The Church is flesh and blood, not bricks and mortar...

‘the church is not a building,

the church is not a steeple;

the church is not a resting place;

the church ... is a people’

And these particular people in Acts 

clearly seemed to think that meeting up together - 

joining up with other parts of the church, as such - 

was somehow important, somehow helpful.

They were drawn to one another;

they had common purpose;

they were connected;

they had a common identity in and through Jesus:

united in one love

all beating as one heart.

Spurred on by this one love

this community

this very early part of the self-same Church that we, too, are a part of...

spent their time in learning:

they wanted to know more about Jesus;

they wanted to know of his teachings;

they wanted to know how, as his followers,

those teachings impacted upon their own lives, and the lives of those around them.

They were hungry to know more,

to work out how to walk the journey of faith.

It was a community of learning:

learning to be like the one they loved.

Spurred on by this love

this community 

found that the natural expression of their love for Jesus 

was through worshipping together as his people.

And so they ‘took part in the fellowship 

and sharing in the fellowship meals and prayers.’

It was in community that they remembered Jesus in bread and wine

and, as they did,

ordinary grape and grain took on a deeper spiritual meaning -

the everyday things of the world becoming sacred - sacramental;

nourishing them,

binding them closer together -

one love, one heart, one in spirit.

United in prayer, too,

as they remembered and said together

the prayer that Jesus had taught - 

that prayer which we still say.

It was a worshipping community:

worshipping the one they loved

and who loved them, utterly.

And, as they began to comprehend that great and utter love

this community was filled ...with awe.

Hearts and minds and souls

struck with the wonder of it all

as they went deeper into this faith,

deeper into what it was to be disciples,

deeper into the great love of God as revealed in the Son.

This was an awe-filled community:

marvelling at all that God had done

at all that God given for them.

That amazing, divine self-giving

caused the believers to respond likewise.

And, in what could be seen as a dream text 

to delight the heart of any church treasurer - 

where’s [treasurer's name]?! -
these earliest of Christians gave...and gave...and gave,

sometimes quite sacrificially -

because the thought that one may be in need and suffering

was enough to cut them to their hearts:
when one suffered, all suffered.

They gave what they had,

what they could,

so that none were hungry

none were homeless...

remembering those words that Jesus had said:

‘when you do this for the least

...   you do it for me.’

They cared,

they supported one another

and within that mutual support,

they shared hospitality as well -

eating together in each other’s homes.

It was a community of generosity:

a living parable of the generosity of the one they followed.

That generosity was also a demonstration

of their great sense of thankfulness to God.

They were truly humbled as they thought of God’s love,

of Jesus’ life and death and resurrection.

Thankful - and possibly not a little astonished -

as they pondered the thought that

the Creator of the Universe and of all contained therein -

the One beyond time and space

the One beyond human comprehension -

cared for them:

called them... ‘beloved’...

It was a community of thankfulness and praise:

delighting in the One who delighted in them.

As the early believers worked out what it was to be church, 

there were a couple of interesting knock-on effects:

first, the wider community saw what they did,

how they lived,

how they treated one another in response to their God...

And so it was that the church enjoyed 

the good will of the people around them -

the wider community.

Second, the way in which this church community behaved... 

piqued curiosity,

drew people to them,

and so their numbers grew.

...What is the Church?

What are the signs of the Church?

The Church is... us:

the Church is... community.

For faith, within the context of fullness of life

is not just a private and personal matter of

‘me and my God’

faith, and fullness, is much more expansive than that:

it’s about ‘me and my God ...and my neighbour’ - 

and my neighbour may be a fellow Christian, 

or someone who lives in the local neighbourhood,

or even someone who lives on the other side of the world, 

who we may not know, but who may be in need,

and who we can support through agencies such as Christian Aid.

Called to live within the context of community,

as God's people...as church:

together we learn about the faith

together we worship God

together we share with, and support, one another

together we give thanks and praise ...

because we recognise that this is what life,

life in all its fullness is about

as we follow  

the God who is bigger than the sum of our deeds

the taker of fears

and the giver of dreams..

the God who calls us to be his people

his community:

the God who is not finished with us yet,

despite the claims of some...

the God who is still speaking...

finish with clip...

 AMEN...