Sunday 25 December 2016

Advent word - Home

Merry Christmas and thank you to anyone who's taken the time to read my blog this advent. I'm always surprised that people do read it- I do it as a way of ensuring I take some time to think and be with God each day.

In the craziness of our lives, remember one thing: that God really does love you, and wants to make a home in your heart just as he made a home in that stable so many years ago.

-Br. James Koester

This is the sermon I preached at midnight mass, based upon Isaiah 9:2-7, Titus 2:11-14 and Luke 2:1-14. It reuses/rejigs part of a sermon on storytelling I wrote in October 2015.

I wonder what your favourite stories were growing up? I loved books as a child, I was always reading. When it came to fiction I loved fantasy and writers who built their own worlds like Narnia, Middlearth and Discworld.
Then there were bible stories- somewhere between fable, myth and reality. I went to Sunday school from being very small so I knew all the bible stories we tell to children, I think my favourite was always the story of Moses’ birth and how his mother saved him, but there were other Old Testament tales such as the Garden of Eden, Noah and David and Goliath. Then there were the gospel stories- feeding the 5000, Jesus riding a donkey into Jerusalem and of course the Nativity story which we’ve just heard retold.
These stories were part of my childhood, part of me, absolutely ingrained in me. I was really shocked when I went to high school and realised how few of my classmates knew these bible stories. It was just normal to me, going to church and having these tales be part of me, and I’m sure these stories have helped to shape me, my beliefs and my life, just as the stories others grow up with shaped theirs.
Because narrative and story-telling is an incredibly powerful thing. Stories matter. We’re a race of story tellers. Novels, fairy tales, family stories and bible stories. We remember them, we share them, and we pass them on to our children. Our story telling expands far beyond books or even the more ancient tradition of oral storytelling. Our lives are packed with narrative- TV, cinema, DVDs, online streaming, gaming- we may be more often immersed in imagined worlds than the real one. I could probably tell you more about the geography of Discworld than Europe.
Every culture has its important stories, those which are deeply imbedded in our history. They may go some way to encapsulate the core beliefs of that culture or society, family stories may do the same. This is who we are, where we’ve come from, this is what we believe. Stories may reinforce the stereotypes we buy into, or serve to challenge them. The stories our leaders tell us may shape how we view our national identities, and those of other nations.
The Hebrew people - like Mary and Joseph - would have grown up hearing many of the same stories as you and I – Moses, David and Noah. These stories are part of their identity, but I don’t think I had any bible picture books about the prophet Isaiah. There’s familiarity in the Isaiah reading, some of the words are repeated in the new testament and in our Anglican liturgies, and Isaiah is present throughout our Advent journey in the readings.
Isaiah and this narrative or story of the coming messiah would have been as woven into Mary and Joseph’s lives, as the Nativity or resurrection are for us. Children would know them as well as  I knew the stories I learned in Sunday school.
For a child has been born for us,
   a son given to us;
authority rests upon his shoulders;
   and he is named
Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God,
   Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
His authority shall grow continually,
   and there shall be endless peace
Parts of the scripture led to expectations of what kind of a leader the Messiah would be; defeating armies, ruling nations, bringing peace. This saviour would be a great military leader or mighty king and monarch. He’d have to be to save and subdue.
And yet these expectations are completely subverted in the gospels. The expected military leader or political king becomes a prophet, a teacher and a miracle worker, and more than that, what those hearing the stories and prophecies never would have imagined; the Messiah was God. God incarnate. And it all begins here in the manger, helpless and fragile, a fragile, vulnerable God- what a paradox.
Stanley Hauerwas is a writer on the subject of Christian virtue ethics, and he’s a big believer in the power of narrative. He writes that Christianity doesn’t rest on abstract philosophical principles but on these stories, that God has indeed revealed himself narratively in the history of Israel and in the life of Jesus. These stories shape the character of the individuals and communities where they’re still repeated today. We tell and retell the stories in order to maintain our identity and we see the narrative of our lives within this wider story- the bigger picture.
By telling and retelling the stories about Jesus and his life we build that narrative into our lives and try to reflect something of him. But what story do we want to tell? Where do we want to fit in the story? Will the story of our lives be part of the ongoing revelation of the God who has concern for the least, most vulnerable members of our society? Who was born amongst the least, visited by the least? Who subverted that expectation that strength comes through military or political power, showing that true power comes when we make ourselves vulnerable.
What we have woven through the bible is the story of a people wanting to be closer to God, yet continually turning away from him, only to have God always draw closer to them again. Because we don’t in any of these stories get closer to God by any of our actions, it’s always God drawing nearer to us, and never more so than in the gift of the Christ-child.
This is our story. The ultimate story. God comes to us and dwells amongst us, reminding us of the infinite possibilities of life available to us, and we celebrate that in this season of good cheer, gift-giving, and community. And we tell and re-tell the Nativity story, reminding ourselves that God did, does and always will draw near to us.
Our part in the story is to reflect that in the way we live our lives, not being afraid to be vulnerable ourselves, honouring those perceived as being the least and most vulnerable and knowing that true power belongs to God and God alone.

Saturday 24 December 2016

Advent word - celebrate

Celebrate
Christmas is a feast of the senses! It is a celebration of our ability to see and know and taste and touch the power and glory and revelation of God. It is not just about a birth that happened long, long ago and far, far away. It is about the way in which God manifests himself to us in the person of Jesus as friend and food and hope and love. It is a celebration of our ability to grasp God and to sense him with all our being.

-Br. James Koester

Advent word - live

Live
We are meant for life in all its fullness. Our getting together for the sheer pleasure of it anticipates the Kingdom and the heavenly banquet. Conviviality and celebration, especially in the face of difficult circumstances, bring light into the world.

-Br. Mark Brown

Thursday 22 December 2016

Advent word - animate

Bit different tonight- a longer reflection, which I read at a carol service at Christie Hospital earlier:

What’s your favourite Christmas film? Is it a black and white classic like It’s a wonderful Life? A timeless classic retold again and again such as A Christmas Carol or a modern feel-good comedy like Elf?
We all have our favourite and the traditions that go with watching them- maybe it’s a full family event, snuggled up in onesies with hot chocolate or mulled wine. Whichever film is our favourite – and we might have several – Christmas films undoubtably have one thing in common: their story arcs are always redemption stories.
In It’s a Wonderful Life George Bailey, contemplating suicide, gets to see how much worse off people would have been without him. He goes back to his family a changed man, ready to face the troubles ahead, and is rewarded with unthinkable kindness.
A Christmas Carol shows Ebenezer Scrooge’s transformation from lonely, unloved miser to the beating heart of his community.
We see in Elf how Buddy’s dad, Walter, a modern-day Scrooge, has his heart transformed through his relationship with Buddy to embrace Christmas and have a loving relationship with both his sons.
These are inevitably the story arcs we want from a good Christmas film – the feel-good factor. These stories of redemption reflect what’s at the heart of the Christmas story itself, although rather than being the story of one person’s redemption it’s the story of everyone’s and it’s achieved through love.
The characters in our films- George, Ebenezer and Walter, don’t redeem themselves; they each need a catalyst, usually driven by love, to help them realise the error of their ways and put them on the path to redemption.
There’s a less well known Christmas Carol whose words are as follows:

Love came down at Christmas
Love, a lovely love divine
Love was born at Christmas
Stars and angels gave the sign

Love will be our token
Love be yours, and love be mine
Love from God to all of us
Love for plea and gift a sign

It’s love that provokes the change in our film characters, love which is central to the message of Christmas, and love that caused the divine to enter our earthly lives as a tiny helpless child, the catalyst that can cause that outpouring of love in each of us.
The Christ Child reminds us of the infinite possibilities of life available to us, and we celebrate that in the season of good cheer, gift-giving, and community.
The enchantment of Christmas and indeed in the Christmas films we love, are a taste of what’s possible if human beings could really love each other. The infant in the manger symbolizes new life and the potential we all have to be dedicated to a love of the other.
As we’re gathered here today to sing it reminded me of something else in Elf which I think reflects the love at the heart of Christmas: The Elf Code, which goes as follows:

1.     Treat Every Day Like Christmas. Every day is a day of endless possibilities.
2.     There's Room for Everyone on the Nice List. No-one is beyond redemption.
3.     The Best Way to Spread Christmas Cheer is Singing Loud for All to Hear.

The Spirit of God animates us, but it all happens in the flesh: every deed of kindness, every act of generosity, every word of encouragement happens in the flesh. Every embodiment of Christ’s grace or truth or love happens in the flesh—or it doesn’t happen.

-Br. Mark Brown

Advent word - abide

Sometimes - and it's particularly difficult at this time of year - all we need to do is just 'be', abide or rest in God's presence. Not doing. Just being.

God’s invitation for us to abide in God as God abides in us is not an invitation to settle down and get comfortable. It is a call to mission, a summons to fruitfulness. We are meant to share the fruits of the divine life with others.

-Br. David Vryhof

Tuesday 20 December 2016

Advent word - prune

Sometimes we need to let go of stuff, prune things from our lives so we can bear fruit. It can be really hard, especially if it's part of us or our lives, but afterwards we're usually thankful as we see what letting go of things can achieve. Advent is a really good time to assess what we need to let go.

We prune to let go of growth, letting die what is alive but not growing in the best direction. We prune to let go of death, letting go what is dead but still taking up space. Pruning is a form of dying in order for the tree to more fully live and bear more fruit.

-Br. Luke Ditewig

Monday 19 December 2016

Advent word - simplify

We over complicate Christmas; rush, make, buy, clean, give, consume. How much of it is to do with expectations and what actually makes us happy? Sometimes it's the most simple of things that brings us and those we love the most joy.

A simpler lifestyle can be a way to share with those who have less and a way of returning to them what is usurped by unjust social and economic structures. Assuming a stance of under-consumption can be a provocative invitation to others into a conversation about affluence, poverty and social justice.

-Br. Robert L'Esperance

Sunday 18 December 2016

Advent word - open

I find it heart breaking to hear about churches where openness is actively discouraged or suppressed. The church of England may have it's flaws but I've never felt like I couldn't question or challenge theology and doctrine. It's also a place that's open to all - admittedly not all of it's churches - but it's always been my belief that no matter who you are, your background, theology or orientation, there's more than likely a congregation waiting for you.

When we open our hearts enough to truly love, our enemies can open up the possibility for our healing. It’s not just about treating our enemies a certain way; it’s about the fruits of relating to each other, to everyone, in the fullness of Christ’s love. When we practice loving fully, our great reward is being free from holding onto feelings like anger and hatred.

-Br. Nicholas Bartoli

Saturday 17 December 2016

Advent word - embrace

Sometimes all that matters is holding each other - to celebrate the joys and comfort through the losses.
I know not everyone is comfortable with being embraced but we all need some kind of physical contact and comfort- if not from our fellow adults then from our children or pets. If you're a "hugger" it can be hard to understand those who aren't, but we need to be empathic about other people's boundaries and respect them.

We are a manifestation of Christ in the world. Our mission is not to bring Christ to people, but to help people come to know and embrace Christ already present.

-Br. Mark Brown

Friday 16 December 2016

Advent word - awaken

It's easy sometimes to live in a bubble, going from moment to moment, task to task, obligation to obligation. I'm not always truly awake to what's going on around me- the joys, the needs, the presence of God. In this final week of advent can I try to be awake to the things I might otherwise miss?

Jesus calls us to live into the fullness of our humanity, to embrace what we, in our brokenness, experience as physical, psychic, or spiritual limitations. Jesus urges that, rather than seeking to be cured of our limitations, we ask God to heal us in them, and waken us to the spiritual gifts hidden in them.

-Br. Jonathan Maury

Thursday 15 December 2016

Advent word - trust

Trust terrifies me - not trusting others, I do that quite readily, sometimes to my detriment. It's having the trust of others that scares me, worried that as an imperfect being I'll let them down. My family trusts me, my patients, my colleagues and parishioners. That's a huge responsibility. What helps is having permission to be vulnerable, permission to make mistakes. Scripture is littered with people messing up and God uses them anyway. That's really reassuring!

God’s love, like any love, involves real trust. And in relationships, trust requires mutuality. Sometimes it may require a part of myself that I don’t necessarily want others to see. This same vulnerability, intimacy, and mutuality should characterize our love for and trust in God.

-Br. Robert L'Esperance

Wednesday 14 December 2016

Advent word - surprise

It's the unexpected things in life that keep it interesting...if not a little stressful. We don't necessarily like the unexpected at Christmas, but what could be more unexpected than God incarnate? Who could have seen that coming? We still see God in the unexpected places, but we have to remember to look.

God comes to us as a vulnerable human baby to an unlikely couple in an obscure place. And in doing so turns the world upside down. Jesus says: Stick with me even if I am different, confusing, or surprising. I have come, and I am coming to you today with love! Look for me. Listen. I am coming in an unexpected way.

-Br. Luke Ditewig

Tuesday 13 December 2016

Advent word - mend

Our brokenness is part of what makes us human. It's tempting to want to find a quick fix - to magic away what needs mending in our life - but sometimes it's the broken places where we better relate to others, accept ourselves for who we really are and find ourselves drawing closer to the divine.

Christianity is really all about mending. That is what redemption means: mending something which is broken. Every Christian is called to share with God in mending that which is broken: mending our relationship with God, with one another, and mending the torn canvas of God’s broken world.

-Br. Geoffrey Tristram

Monday 12 December 2016

Advent word - Rely

I'm not the sort of person who's good at letting stuff go- even if I'm trusting someone else to do something I'm really not letting go of it. This means, preferring to do things myself, I end up with too much on my plate and get overwhelmed.
When I've got a big task or difficult day ahead, or I'm feeling overwhelmed, I try to remember one of the most important things we were told (in a self-care session at vicar school): we're not doing any of this in our own strength. We can't.
If I were to look back at the events of the last three years and the last twelve months especially I know I could not have done it on my own. Learning reliance on God is a difficult but necessary skill.

When we are inconvenienced, we have to rely on God. When we have to rely on God, the impossible becomes possible, and we find that we are able to do and achieve that which we never could do or achieve on our own power. We have to have God’s help.

-Br. John Braugh

Sunday 11 December 2016

Advent word - glow

Proverbs 4:18 (The Message)

"The ways of right-living people glow with light; the longer they live, the brighter they shine."

I love meeting people who are clearly glowing with the holy spirit. They might not call it that, they might identify as atheist or a different religion, but the glow is unmistakable.

As children of the light we have the opportunity to either squander God’s riches or to capitalize on them by being ministers of God’s light, life, and love for all people.

-Br. Jim Woodrum

Advent word - befriend

Totally out of sync with working nights shifts!
Working full time, having kids and being a minister means my friendships suffer. I feel it particularly at this time of year when being a nurse and involved in church make me particularly unsociable. What matters then is to be a friend to the people I'm with- those missing families, those with no choice but to be in or at the hospital and those in my church who are alone or lonely. It's part of our humanity to acknowledge the basic need for friendship in each other.

On my journey of faith, Mary has become a kind of friend, and our shared experience of Jesus has become a sacred communion. He invites me into her presence with contagious joy. She points me to him with fresh insight and renewed simplicity.

-Br. Keith Nelson

Saturday 10 December 2016

Advent word - promise

What promises did I make at the start of this year? Probably something along the lines of getting fitter, more organised, sorting out the house, being more hospitable, being "better". In fact I probably make similar promises each day, as each day offers me a new opportunity to try and be "better" and try to fulfil the promises I've made- to my family, my work, to God.
I start each day with a similar prayer, it's a little different every day but it usually includes "I give you my life this day", each day promising myself to God anew, usually ending the day saying sorry that things didn't go quite at planned! But if (as I heard debated recently) God can't love us any less, then he can't love us any more- we're loved to full capacity. This is part of his promise, loving us exactly as we are even if in our own eyes we messed up.
Each day does bring new promise, new opportunity, but God loves us regardless.

God gives us the responsibility of doing something ourselves about those faithless fears and worldly anxieties that are holding us back. We don’t have to do this alone. We have God’s promise of holding our hand and of helping us.

-Br. David Allen

Wednesday 7 December 2016

Advent word - Hope

Wittertainees, the devoted followers of The Church of Wittertainment (or Kermode & Mayo's film review show on radio 5 Live), are familiar with one particular peculiarity of the Friday afternoon show where listeners write in with their trials and misfortunes, asking Mark Kermode to repeat the comfortable words "everything will be alright in the end...and if it's not OK it's not the end". Those of a religious persuasion may recognise the similarity to Mother Julian's much quoted "all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well".
It's been difficult to find the hope in such a tumultuous year, which means the pressure is on Christmas to bring some much needed joy, yet it doesn't always deliver. The hope, the joy, is something we need to find within ourselves, I think that too often we look to external things to bring us happiness. It has to start with us...and everything WILL be right...in the end.

Converted anxiety is hope. Anxiety is dreadful expectation; hope is expectant desire. They are like cousins to each other. Pray for the conversion of your fretful anxiety into promising hope. If you are anxious just now, you are almost already hopeful.

-Br. Curtis Almquist

Tuesday 6 December 2016

Advent word - Act

I'm a massive fan of James' epistle. I think what we do matters as much as what we think, feel and believe. If we think but don't do what does what we think matter? Our faith should drive our actions, there should be a congruence. Our actions should reflect our beliefs.

James 2:14 "What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but has no deeds?"

What will we do with the blessings God gives us in answer to prayer? When we pray and God heals us, what will we do with our restored health? When we cry out of our need and God meets that need, what will we do with the resources that have come to us in answer to our prayer?

-Br. David Vryhof

Advent word - Be

Today's reflection from brother Curtis reflects so much of what it means to be an MSE (minister in secular employment); It's not about doing, it's about being. Nothing to see, nothing to measure, no outward signs or symbols of ministry. Being and acknowledging and without anyone even knowing bringing it all before God at the end of the day.

People in trauma need our presence and our prayer rather than our preaching. We will bear a much more comforting witness to someone facing deep loss by simply being with them, and in so doing, representing God Emmanuel – God with us – by our being with them. Not by our words, but by our presence.

-Br. Curtis Almquist

Monday 5 December 2016

Advent word - Commit

After assisting at a large funeral today the word 'commit' just keeps bringing me back to 'committal', which is part of the funeral service. Being involved as a minister in a funeral you're making a commitment to the family and loved ones to walk beside them in their grief. This will be a very different Christmas for that family, and others like them.

In Advent, reflect on a commitment you are considering accepting, or a commitment that needs renewing. In building the house of your life on the rock of God’s committed love, you may discover that you are called to commit; that you cannot claim the Life that God desires for you without it.

-Br. Keith Nelson

Sunday 4 December 2016

About-thinking

Sermon preached this morning at the main service. The gospel reading was Matthew 3:1-12, Old Testament Isaiah 11:1-10, New Testament Romans 15:4-13.

My friend, a fellow curate, messaged me the other day with the question “why hope?” She wasn’t just having a really bad day, it turns out her church for Advent has a sermon series themed around hope and she was doing some sermon prep.

It did get me thinking though, how to respond to her question, especially as I’d just read this morning’s gospel whilst beginning to prepare my own sermon. John the Baptist’s confrontational manner has a tendency towards sounding terrifying rather than  hopeful. This is a really challenging section of the gospel.

The good news is John isn’t addressing his comments to you and I, but to the Pharisees and Sadducees who’ve turned up to get their holy insurance policy. They’re probably going to be ok with God, they’re descended from Abraham after all, but just in case they’ve popped out to see John to get themselves baptised…you never know if it might be needed.

John’s a big deal at this point, people don’t usually just nip out into the wilderness but he’s drawing big crowds and his teaching is pretty popular, hence the religious big-wigs thinking they’d better check it out too.

Now, in context he’s talking to these folk, the “brood of vipers” as he calls them, which are harsh words, but that’s not to say that there isn’t something we can take and apply to ourselves- and the really good news is that it’s full of hope.

John the baptiser is the voice crying out in the wilderness, the one preparing the way for Jesus. As we know Advent is our time of preparation for Jesus, but we tend to go about things in a very different way to John.

I think for us as Christians in our society Advent has become quite a dichotomy; that pull or tension between knowing we should be spiritually preparing and the wish to join everyone else who’s already celebrating. I got grumbles at work last week for asking the girls to wait until December to put the Christmas music on.

In terms of the cycle of the church year Advent mirrors Lent as a time for prayer and penitence, but unlike in Lent it’s much harder to keep that spiritual focus. It’s impossible to not celebrate Christmas until Christmas.

More widely Advent, rather than a time of journeying towards something, has become a fun-filled time of arrival. The party season. A time for memory-making. People want to celebrate Christmas because it’s joyful, colourful, full of light and that all-important hope. It’s a time of escapism and putting off thinking about the serious stuff.

Yet by his stark and uncompromising message John lets us know that what’s coming demands a response from us, requires thought and preparation on our part. John is proclaiming the nearness of God’s reign, there’s an urgency to it, hence the big scary metaphors the listener can’t ignore. John’s telling us this is serious stuff, and something we need to set aside time for.

As well as thinking about, it requires “about-thinking”, which is another way to understand “repent”. The centuries have not been kind to this word but what it amounts to is a change in our thinking, a reversal or turning around. In this case a turning around to contemplate what our baptism means.

Most of us won’t remember our own baptism, but we will remember our confirmation where we’re asked to reaffirm our baptism. Baptism, for us, for the family of the children I’ll baptise today, is a response to God’s love- a desire and commitment to respond to God’s call; remembering that we are loved by God, are part of a wider community and have a place with God’s people.”

John is telling his listeners that the baptism he offers isn’t a holy insurance policy. More is required of them and of us. In the letter to the Romans Paul explores the idea that it’s our baptism that unites us with Jesus, and therefore to each other. It’s not about us as individuals, not about individual salvation, but a great communal joining that links each baptised person to each other, entwined in the love of the Trinity. That gives us a responsibility to and for each other.

This definitely requires a response on our part as we’re not always great at being one connected community of faith, hope and love. Both Isaiah and Paul offer us visions in today’s readings of what a community reflecting that connectedness might look like. For Isaiah, it’s a return to Eden; for Paul, all Christians living in harmony.

For John, it’s an about-turn, turning to examine ourselves, our identity as the baptised and our communal life. He wants us to think about our response to God’s coming action in the world. What John doesn’t know is what that action will be, that Jesus doesn’t reveal God’s power through apocalypse but through love, remarkable preaching, parables of forgiveness and growth, deeds of compassion and healing.

What’s our response or repentance to God’s love revealed through Jesus?

Advent is a journey we undertake to get in touch with God and ourselves, and yet it can heighten our sense of responsibility to each other. It gives space for the purification of the heart and a place for a new start. “Advent promises us fresh possibilities, opens up new horizons and invites us into a world that offers a better way of living.” That’s our repentance, or turn around in our thinking.

To return to my friend’s question of hope, St Paul writes that "by the encouragement of the scriptures we might have hope" (Ron 15:4), yet not all of scripture is an easy read.

John the Baptist reminds us that our gospel disturbs and disrupts, as it ought to. Ours is not a religion of comfort and cosiness. It’s a challenge. We must face ourselves, who we are in our baptism and bring it all before God. God knows it already and loves us, but the depth of relationship he wants from us requires us to be honest about who we are.
The purpose of this disruption is to renew, refresh and replenish - both ourselves, our communal lives and our relationship with God.

My response to “why hope?” was as follows: we hope because of all those small things in our lives that bring us joy and glimpses of the divine even on the darkest of days, we hope because we love, we hope because we know we’re not alone.

This is the hope reflected in our baptism, and what we encounter through our Advent. God and God’s love reflected in all things, in the light and the shade, in the noise and the quiet, in peace and in disruption.

Advent word - touch

Do you know how to get a room of 60 adults and children to cheerfully interact with each other, even though they barely know each other? Get them to high-five each other! At our monthly family service we've changed the formal (rather alien to the children) handshake of The Peace (a handshake of love and fidelity shared in some church services) to a high-five of peace. It's been a revelation. Try getting a 2 year old to shake your hand, then offer them a high-five and you'll understand what I mean.

As followers of Jesus, our responsibility is to listen for those calling out to us, and to respond in love by reaching out and touching the untouchable, reminding them by word and deed of their sacred identity.

-Br. Nicholas Bartoli

Saturday 3 December 2016

Advent word - play

Not much chance of "play" for me today as I was back in work after six days off, but that got me thinking. I love my job even though it's jolly hard work- and you need a sense of humour to work in healthcare! As a team we have to pull together to support each other and there is often a playfulness in how we interact; this was very much the case yesterday. We laugh, we joke and we take the piss out of each other. Knowing we have each other's backs is really important, as is getting a smile out of a colleague and friend on a tough day.

Our Society's rule states that “as our faith matures we come to recognize Christ’s hidden presence everywhere.” That’s because a maturing faith is paradoxically childlike. It is marked by openness to new ideas, points of view, and experiences, all of which enable us to see again our God, who knows neither time, nor place, nor limitation.

-Br. John Braugh

Friday 2 December 2016

Advent word - light

Light is a remarkable thing. A rainbow, for example (such as the one displayed over Flixton at about 3pm today), is a meteorological phenomenon that is caused by reflection, refraction and dispersion of light in water droplets resulting in a spectrum of light appearing in the sky (thanks Wikipedia). In the right circumstances light is transformed into one of the most striking natural phenomenon.
It's often down to circumstances what we are- our beliefs and understandings, what we like, what we do, where we are in the world and we should celebrate our differences and marvel that we're not all the same.
But we should also remember that people's circumstances can mean they're in bad situations they're not responsible for, and good fortune is often just good "luck". Light doesn't become a rainbow through it's own efforts.

We will be a more luminous epiphany of the love of Christ not only when we love, but when we recognize Christ present in the loving hearts of others, whatever their beliefs or understanding of God.

-Br. Mark Brown

Thursday 1 December 2016

Advent word - Proclaim

I'm sometimes eyed with suspicion for my sunny outlook on life. Even when things are tough I try to remain positive and see good where others maybe don't, and find the joy in the everyday. It may sound twee but I believe goodness is everywhere - hope is everywhere, even if it's not always obvious.
The God Jesus shows us is a God of joy, hope, love and equality; we should reflect that in how we live and how we treat people.

The gospel Jesus proclaims is that in God’s economy everyone will be fed, but we have to be willing to share from the riches that God has given us. In order to do that we have to stop and recognize the goodness that God has given us in our lives.

-Br. Jim Woodrum

Wednesday 30 November 2016

Advent word - Listen

As Christian's we're sometimes more inclined to talk than listen - we have something wonderful to share, something we think everyone should know - yet it's more important to listen. Listen to our communities, listen to the people in our parishes. Find out people's stories, find out their needs. If all the church does is talk then what good are we? Our faith should move us into action.

On the cross, exposed and vulnerable, Jesus draws the whole world in a loving embrace. Everything hangs, everyone is the  held here. Jesus holds the people of Charlestown and Ferguson and Baltimore and all around the globe. Jesus listens to the grieving and grappling, the terrorized and troubled, the frightened and crying. Jesus listens to all the heartache, all the questions. On the cross Jesus bears the weight, the weight of the world, holding us all in his wounded hands.

-Br. Luke Ditewig

Tuesday 29 November 2016

Advent word - renew

Today's photo was taken on our date day- going to see Fantastic Beasts.
Annual events which are often in many ways unchanging, like the Christmas traditions we enjoy, can shine a spotlight on what has changed for better and for worse over the previous year. There's been quite a lot of change in my marriage in the last 12 months- change of jobs, change of roles, ordination and at times it's been a difficult year.
One complaint you hear a lot in relationships is about change; one partner feels the other has changed and aren't the person they fell in love with. My viewpoint is that change is inevitable and healthy. My husband and I are 38 and 43, we were 17 and 21 when we started dating- how unhealthy would it be for us to still be the same people we were 21 years ago? We've been shaped by relationship, children, joys, disappointments and bereavements.
Change will happen, and it can be scary, but it can also be a renewal, something which breathes new life; something which transforms.

Christ is all in all. He is here symbolically in a stone altar He is here sacramentally in bread and wine. He is here spiritually in hearts lifted up and returned to us renewed, transformed, consecrated.

-Br. Mark Brown

Monday 28 November 2016

Advent word - Love

Tim Booth sings "love can mean anything", Johnny Bramwell's take is "to be loved is to be divine". If we're honest we probably take a lot of what we think about love from the lyrics of the songs we listen too, in the same way much of our theology is formed by hymns.
My stance is probably somewhere between Booth and Bramwell; love, which can take many forms, does indeed give us a glimpse of what God is like. Most of the metaphors we have are inadequate to explain or understand divine love. Jesus works with the parent/child metaphor, which comes the closest to helping our understanding but which we will still never fully understand.

Falling in love is one of the most profoundly spiritual experiences a person can have. By falling in love we discover our capacity for selflessness. We experience what it means to entrust ourselves, our souls and bodies, to another. When we fall in love as God does, we too will ultimately “stretch out [our] arms of love on the hard wood of the cross,” just as Jesus did.

-Br. James Koester

Sunday 27 November 2016

Advent word - Shine

It's that time of year again so I'm going to attempt daily blogging through Advent, this year following the Society of St John The Evangelist's (SSJE) Advent Word. Each day they give you a word and image, encouraging people to respond with their own image.
The image I've used today is my bedside light. I've been working night shifts so this is mostly what I've seen when I've been at home.
Each day there's a really short reflection which goes with the image and word:

Rather than experiencing the sorrows of our world as a source of desolation, hear the news as a clarion call, as motivation and clarification for what we are to be about as followers of Jesus Christ: to bear the beams of God’s love and light and life, especially to those who wouldn’t otherwise know it.
-Br. Curtis Almquist

The word "shine" in terms of faith always reminds me of the baptism liturgy; after we give a lighted candle we all pray together "shine as a light in the world, to the glory of God the father". This is our prayer for the child, that they will shine in the world and in doing so reflect something of God.
These are uncertain times, maybe if more of us try to "shine" and bring light to others it will bring the comfort that comes when a light is shone in a dark place.

Sunday 23 October 2016

Instagram-Perfect life

Preached at the main service 23rd October 2013 (a healing eucharist) and based upon Luke 18:9-14

Pressure to be perfect is something which I feel permeates our society. Not just to strive for physical perfection but for every aspect of our lives to be picture perfect. I feel the pressure to not only look a certain way but to be a perfect homemaker, expert gardener, top chef, have interesting hobbies, go to the gym, see the newest films, read popular books, be up to date with current TV, current events and politics, listen to the right music, have the newest gadgets and the right things. It’s exhausting.

This obsession with achieving a picture or Instagram perfect life is all about what people see on the outside, it says nothing about who we are inside and what we really think and feel. It creates a separation, a disconnect, from our spiritual self, our lives become all about what’s on the surface, which is what’s going on in our gospel today.

On the surface of things the Pharisee is a good man, a holy man, an upstanding member of society. He’s middle class. He appears to be doing all the right things; praying, fasting and giving to charity, but there’s that disconnect. His contempt for the outcasts- thieves, rogues, adulterers and the tax-collectors- reveals that his is a superficial faith, concerned with how he appears to be. He thinks that he’s morally better, and if we’re looking at the surface of things we might be inclined to agree. “I’m holy” he says, “not like these people”.

Next to him we have a tax collector, a sinner, a self-confessed sinner, and that’s the big difference between the two men. The tax collector is honest about who he is, and he’s honest with God. He’s not interested in trying to make himself look better, or compare himself to others whose offences are worse. “God, be merciful to me a sinner”. He knows himself, what he is and never tries to hide that from God. His petition is honest and raw.

Jesus tells us that it’s this second man who finds favour with God, not the man who appears Holy. The tax-collector doesn’t try and present a sanitised view of himself to God, he brings everything that he is, including his brokenness and puts himself into God’s hands. This is something which is really important as we think about wholeness and healing today.

There’s a saying that I’ve heard- do you want your church to be a museum of saints or a hospital for sinners? I think most of us come to church not because we consider ourselves to be holy or righteous but because we know that we aren’t. We love God, we want to be the people he created us to be, but we keep getting it wrong- I know I do.

You start your day with the best of intentions- today will be a good day, today I won’t slip up. I won’t shout at the kids, I’ll be productive, I’ll be patient with my colleagues, I won’t be sarcastic, I’ll treat my spouse gently and I’ll do everything lovingly. It only takes one little perceived failure in this to make us think we’ve failed at it all. So we start again the next day- striving to be a more perfect version of ourselves.

But what if God doesn’t want us to be perfect? He created us a diverse and imperfect people. What if the most important thing for us to achieve a more whole relationship with God is for us to simply be honest with him?

There’s an initiative in the US called The Hearth which aims to help people build community and address suffering by sharing stories. It’s director, a man called Mark Yaconelli, says that we as Christians are reluctant to share our stories unless it’s something that’s behind us, something where we can identify where God was at work. The stuff we’re still grappling with, the things we haven’t figured out, the things we really need to confront now are the things which we don’t share and aren’t honest about. But we can’t hide our true selves from God, even the things we particularly don’t like or wish we could conceal.

We don’t know what happened to the tax collector after today’s gospel story, whether he went on sinning, but his honesty and his cry for mercy meant that he had a much more rounded and whole relationship with God than the Pharisee.

Healing in any relationship can only come when there’s honesty and acknowledgement of wrongdoing. Only then can there be true reconciliation. I’ve been reminded a lot in recent weeks for various reasons of the Truth and Reconciliation commission set up in South Africa after the abolition of apartheid and chaired by Archbishop Desmond Tutu.

Hearings started in 1996 with a mandate of restorative justice, to bear witness to, record, and in some cases grant amnesty to the perpetrators of crimes relating to human rights violations under the former political regime, as well as attempting to repair and rehabilitate. This was about restoration, not reprimand. To repair a country almost destroyed by a system of division and hate.

This was in sharp contrast to the Nuremberg trials set up after the collapse of Nazism. There’s a lot of criticism of the commission, a lot of which is tied to our human ideas of what justice is. Our own justice system is based on ideas we perceive as biblical; crimes require judgement which results in punishment, but our interpretation is filtered through the legal and philosophical lens of both the time the biblical books were written and the times they were interpreted.

I can’t help but wonder if the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was one human construct which has got the closest to maybe how God does things, in line with Jesus’ teaching from today’s gospel.

Acknowledgement of the things we do that aren’t what God would want, and a call for mercy creates a bridge between ourselves and God. It opens us up to his reconciling ways. There’s no sign the tax collector turned from his way of life, but he did acknowledge it and that’s what God wants from us.

As theologian Jane Williams puts it: if God really is loving and teasing and forgiving, like he is in the stories Jesus tells, then we all have a chance. You have to want God, just God, offering the chance for God to see you as you really are and love you.

This is where healing begins; being fully ourselves before God, the good and the bad, and realising that we’re still loved in our imperfect state. This acknowledgment begins the healing of our relationship with ourselves, the healing of our relationship with God and the healing of our relationships with each other.

God doesn’t want perfection, he wants us to be the people he created us to be, aware of our imperfections, and most importantly aware of our need for him.

Sunday 18 September 2016

Love Isn't Control

Short Evensong homily based on Ezra 1 and John 7:14-36

There’s a lot of confusion in this evening’s gospel reading as people are trying to figure out who Jesus is- is he the Messiah? The Jewish people, and the temple officials are both puzzled by this man, not knowing how he knows the things he does when he’s just some bloke from Nazareth. How could he possibly be the messiah?

The way Jesus deals with this is not in an authoritarian way but an encouragement to get people to think about who he is and what he’s doing. Is he just Mary and Joseph’s son or is there more to him? He tells us he’s a product of where he’s from and the one who sent him, meaning he’s more than a simple man from Nazareth.

He’s learned much, I’m sure, from his mum and dad but his real power, the tools he needs to fulfil his ministry and purpose, are from God. Jesus is saying “look at me, I’m a simple man from an insignificant village so how can the things I’m saying or doing be from anyone else but God? I’m not educated, I’m not rich, I’m not anyone. Draw your own conclusions. Look at the evidence and you decide who you think I am”. Jesus rarely spoon feeds us.

There is so much we can learn about God from this. Firstly the encouragement to doubt, reason and think for ourselves. Institutions of religion and Christianity in the past have attempted to supress this. It’s been about rules and control, much like the Pharisees, and so far-removed from what I believe God intends for us.

God wants us to engage our minds. Religion which operates just within a set of overly-prescribed rules, or at the other end of the spectrum just attempts to engage our emotions, is not a true reflection of God. We’re designed to be curious, inquisitive and questioning. It’s the only way we can fully engage with God.

Ours is a relationship of love. If a relationship is built upon control that is not love. If any of you, like me, are fans of The Archers you’ll probably be aware of a recent change in the law which now defines coercive-control as abuse, for which you can be prosecuted. Jesus opposes the Pharisees control and his encouragement to think and question makes our relationship with the divide more rounded and whole.

Secondly it’s an encouragement to not judge people by how they appear but by the fruit they bear. If we look at the basic facts Jesus is an uneducated man from an insignificant place, but when we look at what he achieves we know he is much more than that. We can’t judge anyone on face value, but on the fruit the bear, evidence of God at work through them by what they produce in the world.

We may see people claim to have no faith and yet clearly see God reflected in them. Others may claim to lead a devout and god-focused life and yet their behaviour and choices say otherwise, like the Pharisees.  We can examine ourselves in this way- how do I appear, what do I want people to think of me? Is this reflected in the fruit I bear and the choices I make?

Finally it’s a reminder that all we need comes from God. We see this in the passage from Ezra where God sees people in a position to achieve what he needs them too and he stirs them up, giving them the ability to pull together and do what needs to be done. Everything Jesus needed to fulfil his ministry came from God, not his upbringing, education or the place he was from.

So God gives us everything we need to bear fruit in the world, but also to keep questioning, looking for the signposts of where He’s at work, and how we can be part of that.

Sunday 21 August 2016

Breaking the rules

This sermon was preached this morning at St Michael's Flixton. The readings were Isaiah 58:9b-14, Psalm 103:1-8, Hebrews 12:18-29 & Luke 13:10-17.

Why do we come to church? Is it something you ever think about? Do we come out of a sense of duty- something we feel we should or ought to do? Or do we come out of ritual or habit- it’s what we’ve always done? Do we come for community- to be part of something bigger, to get a sense of belonging? Or do we come because we feel we’ll experience something of God in this place?
Whatever your own reasons are, they probably contain a little bit of each of these, and of course it’s scriptural.
In Hebrews chapter 10 we hear of the importance of meeting together and encouraging each other; Matthew 18 contains Jesus famous words that when 2 or 3 are gathered in his name, there he is; In Acts 2 the apostles gather for prayer, teaching and breaking bread.
It was also scriptural for the Jewish people that Jesus is teaching in front of in today’s gospel to attend structured worship. There were a lot of rules around the Sabbath laid down in Levitical law. We know that Levitical law was and is extensive and contains instruction on every area of life.
Yet in today’s gospel we see Jesus, the same Jesus who said he hadn’t come to abolish the Law, break one of the Sabbath rules. Healing was classed as work, which may seem odd to us. The definitions in Jewish teaching about what is and isn’t work have been pondered and debated by scholars and rabbis for thousands of years. I’ve nursed orthodox Jewish patients who couldn’t press their nurse call button on the Sabbath because using something electrical was forbidden under their understanding of the Law.
The minutiae of these definitions may be baffling- even to Anglicans with our rules and rituals- but there are reasons for it. Keeping the Sabbath, to this people, was all about putting a special time aside to remember and be with God. Even though the extent of the Law reached every part of life, the Sabbath was the time when all other things were put aside and it was about God and only God.
Following the law to the letter stemmed from the exile- The Hebrews believed they were sent into exile as a punishment for not following the rules and so there was a fear of “not getting it right” and being punished again.
This might help frame just how controversial it was for Jesus to break the rules. And it wasn’t the first time. At this point Jesus has already allowed his disciples to pick grain on the Sabbath, because they’re hungry, and has healed a man’s withered hand, also in a synagogue on the Sabbath. In the next chapter he does it again, healing a man with dropsy.
This repeated rule breaking tells us one thing, whatever point Jesus is making here it’s an important one, and it’s not about healing. Those of you who’ve heard me speak about healing miracles before may remember my belief that whenever we see a healing miracle in the gospels it’s never about the healing, it’s always about something Jesus is trying to reveal to us about God.
In the narrative we see a synagogue leader so keen on rules he could very well be part of the CofE! He says:
"There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the sabbath day."
He’s a proper jobsworth! But Jesus points out the hypocrisy of it, that there are other things, none of which reveal anything of God, which people do on the Sabbath for mere practical reasons- who would deny their animal water because of the Sabbath rules? None of them. Yet Jesus’ revelation of the power of God in healing the women is not condoned.
This is where we find something marvellous to celebrate in our Anglican tradition. It can be a bit fuzzy to define what we, the Anglican communion are. Those who’ve thought about these things have defined it as a triangle, with each side of the triangle having an equal share in what defines us. Those three sides, and you probably will have heard this before, are Scripture, Tradition and Reason.
This trinity, like the eternal trinity, are held in tension together, forever dancing and circling each other, intertwining to help us figure out our beliefs and our theology.
In this story of Jesus healing a woman in the synagogue we have tradition and scripture on one side, telling us that he’s broken the rules, done the wrong thing, but then reason comes in and puts a twist on whole situation.
The reasonable question to ask is what does each situation reveal of God? On one hand we have the rules, set in scripture and carried through tradition, and on the other we have a women healed in a place where people have gathered to learn about God.
The attempted enforcement of the rules here makes God seem small, confined and constricted. The healing reveals a God of power, a God who can’t be confined or defined by us and our institutions. God isn’t defined by the church, we should be defined by God.
It’s built into the DNA of the church of England to give equal weighting to reason, tradition and scripture even when these things are at odds with each. 30 years ago I wouldn’t have been stood here, with this collar on, preaching to you. Tradition and Scripture were quite clear: women lived under the authority of men, and as such were not authorised to be ordained. It wasn’t our place.
Yet reason leads us to re-examine scripture for the time and place we find ourselves. The bible isn’t a holy rule book. It’s the story of humanity’s relationship with God, and revelation of God through Jesus Christ. This revelation isn’t closed off or finished, it’s ongoing, through re-examining scripture in our own context. Through this process has been born liberation theology, black theology, feminist theology, queer theology.
Ongoing revelation means the voiceless have found their voices, and found their place in God’s kingdom.
By accepting that what’s contained in scripture is an ongoing conversation between the text and our context we accept that it’s not about trying to define or restrict God with a set of rules but seeing where he’s at work in the world. This has been brought to the fore in recent years as we’ve seen scripture and tradition under debate in regards to sexuality, which made headlines again recently as a priest from our diocese resigned his position and married his male partner.
Tradition says one thing, reason another, and scripture is interpreted and re-interpreted by those on both sides of the debate. Are we, in these debates, trying to contain God? Make him small, make him conform to our image of him? Or are we looking beyond our beliefs and expectations? Opening our eyes to where God is revealed right before us?
At the end of today’s gospel reading the people who witness Jesus’ miracle aren’t siding with the religious leader, they’re rejoicing at the miracle they’ve witnessed. My challenge to us is to do the same- look for where God is moving in the world and celebrate it!
The writer of Hebrews tells us we’re receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken. Nothing that humankind can say or do can shake God or God’s kingdom- he’s way bigger than that. Rules, Ritual and even the church can’t define God, or know God’s mind or will. He’s not made in our image, we’re made in his, and he is indeed a consuming fire.
A fire of power, a fire of joy and a fire of love.
To go back to my opening question, I come to church to try and catch a bit of that fire, having that Sabbath focus of time just for God. If we can each leave this place with a bit of that fire within us, it lights us up in the world.
When we re-examine scripture we see that the Sabbath isn’t about the rules or traditions, it’s about seeing where God is and shifting our focus to that place, shifting our focus away from all distractions and for a short time delighting in God, celebrating God, worshipping God, and most importantly, expecting to encounter God.

Sunday 10 July 2016

Anointing our communities

Dusting off the blog following my ordination at Manchester cathedral two weeks ago. This is my first full length sermon since last autumn and my first blog since March. This was based on Luke 10:25-37

I’m so excited to have the privilege of standing before you today, that my first service as a deacon is a celebration of Wholeness and Healing. As a nurse, with a particular calling to ministry in Christie hospital, where I work, it really is a joy to be able to explore a little of what that might mean.
And this will be a sermon about healing and wholeness, although maybe not in a way that you might think. When we pray for healing, and for a wholeness that comes from a more complete relationship with God, we’re often thinking about health- physical and mental- of ourselves and of those we love or care about.
That’s an incredibly important aspect of “good health”, and even if a physical healing doesn’t happen we know our prayers draw us closer to God and make our relationship more whole, fully rounded. But as Jesus demonstrates in today’s Gospel reading, all about healing and compassion, the healing that God brings is a reflection of the character of God; generous, gracious and much, much more vast than any of us can contemplate.
The parable of the Good Samaritan perhaps has the problem of being too familiar, too well known. We know it as the ultimate example of what it means to be a good neighbour, reminding us that everyone we meet is our neighbour, and how compassion can come from the most unlikely sources.
If in first century Palestine you’d put the words “good” and “Samaritan” together in a Jewish community they would’ve been outraged. It’s hard for us to get our heads around how radical Jesus was being here because “Samaritan”, through our familiarity with the parable, represents compassion, kindness and goodness.
The Jews hated the Samaritans. Hated. In the words of retired bishop and theologian Tom Wright Samaritans were wrong. Everything about them was wrong. Wrong worship, wrong theology and wrong behaviour. Religious division going back centuries caused this particular people to be despised by the Jewish community more than any other.
Now not only is this man from a despised people portrayed as the hero of our story, but the upright Jewish people – the priest and Levite – are the baddies. This would have been outrageous to the listeners.
Earlier this year as part of an exercise on one of my ministry training weekends we were asked to re-write this parable to contextualise it for today. How would you rewrite it? There are a variety of interpretations- the injured man is an Israeli Jew and the rescuer a Palestinian Muslim, a Christian is made redundant and helped by his Muslim neighbour, an elderly British lady is attacked by a gang of British teenagers and helped by a Polish migrant. These might not be overly imaginative but there’s a lot of twists we can give this to shake it up to make it relevant for today.
At the moment this feels like a very important time for to re-evaluate our own definitions of “neighbour”, and examine if we as a nation, like the people Jesus addressed, have inherited hostilities, ingrained in our very culture.
A report in the Independent Newspaper last week suggests that reports of Hate crimes have risen by 57% since the EU referendum vote. That is staggering. For someone who believed we lived in a tolerant multi-ethnic society I really am having to re-evaluate my own perceptions.
Part of my own interpretation is down to my own context. I work for the NHS, a wonderful example of a diverse multi-ethnic organisation, where on any given day that I walk onto the ward I might be greeted by colleagues of Polish, Hungarian, German, Swedish, Malaysian, Israeli, Pakistani, Indian, Jamaican, Moroccan, Somali and Spanish origin. I don’t experience racism, just a well-integrated team. This may be in part to our being a tertiary centre, who very rarely experience any degree of aggression or abuse, which sadly can be an issue in other NHS settings.
Despite by own bubble of idealism there clearly is a problem, whatever your opinion on the referendum, and this is not a sermon about that, it has stirred some very strong underlying emotions which have clearly been bubbling just under the surface waiting to burst forth.
What’s our response to this?
As Christians are we beyond the tribalism which facilitates fear and hatred of neighbour? Or have we created a tribalism of our own? Denis McBride writes that in society we maintain our identity through asserting our difference, whether through badges, flags, attitude, beliefs, stories or traditions. This is many ways is good for the church- we’re a people set apart, counter-cultural, but sometimes difference leads to the belief that one group is superior to another. Jesus is teaching that even when our beliefs differ from other’s we can still love “the other”.
In a recent interview leading writer in black theology Anthony Reddie stated that the basis of our faith is a radical appreciation of “the other” and a love of God which transcends our political and social limitations- faith is beyond tribalism, or should be. Our call to be counter-cultural is to counter the tribalism and assertion of identify which harms others. If our tradition invites us to fear or hate others we must reject that tradition, as it doesn’t belong to Jesus.
So how is this a sermon about healing? Well it’s about a healing which transcends the individual, although it begins with the individual. It’s about healing communities, healing a nation with deep wounds. This begins with our individual actions.
In the parable the injured man is healed with wine, oil and time. Wine and oil are two symbols we’ll encounter today; the wine of the eucharistic feast and oil of anointing which you may wish to receive afterwards. These symbols, alongside the prayers and time spent in worship, strengthen us, build us up, begin to facilitate an inner healing and form part of that more whole, or more rounded relationship with God.
What then are the oil and wine we share with the world to facilitate it’s healing? What can we anoint our communities with as a response to Jesus’ call to radical neighbourliness?
When the lawyer asks Jesus how he can get into heaven the answer is the shema, which is repeated in our liturgy each Sunday: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself”. It’s that simple. That simplicity is too much, or maybe not enough for the lawyer. Where’s the catch? It can’t really be that easy? The difficult bit comes when Jesus explains the extent of who is our neighbour; each and every child of God.
The healing we need for a wounded people comes from love. Love as a verb. Love as an action. Loving our neighbour as ourselves. Our oil of anointing to take out into the world is love. Love leads to unity even where there is difference. An amazing image for this is in Psalm 133:

How very good and pleasant it is
   when kindred live together in unity!
It is like the precious oil on the head,
   running down upon the beard,
on the beard of Aaron,
   running down over the collar of his robes.

Our call is to go out and not just anoint people with love, but pour it all over the place! Act lovingly in all that we do, towards all whom we meet.
If we do this, maybe others will want to do the same. Difference, whilst at times scary, can also be very attractive. It can get you noticed. It can spark a revolution.
Let’s be different by pouring out love in a time of fear. Healing our communities begins here, in this parable. Who was the neighbour in the story, Jesus asks the lawyer- The one who showed mercy. Jesus said to him “Go and do likewise”.
Amen.

Friday 18 March 2016

Act 33 - Hats Off

If there's one thing 40 acts has highlighted, when it comes down to it, it's nice to be nice. It benefits you and more importantly other people. If we were all just a littke bit nicer the world might look an awful lot different. This is all summed up in the gospel reading that goes with today's act:

Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: ‘Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?’

  Jesus replied: ‘“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: “Love your neighbour as yourself.” All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.’ 

(Matthew 22:34–40 NIV)

As I believe that is the central message of our faith it seems like an appropriate place to bow out of 40 Acts. I'm off to Easter School this morning - 5 days of education followed by 3 days of retreat. I'm back on Easter Day, but will be stepping back from social media until then.
I hope you have a blessed and peaceful holy week, feeling God's presence alongside you as you walk through the days until next Sunday.

Thursday 17 March 2016

Act 32 - Anon

Are we any good at performing acts of generosity from which there will be zero reward? Is part of what feels good knowing other people will think well of us? Churches are full of plaques, plates and engravings which tell us which individuals donated the money to pay for beautiful windows, the new font, the organ restoration etc.
Are we really ok with only God knowing what we've done? There's so many issues Jesus wasn't clear on, but charity isn't one of them:

But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

(Matthew 6:3–4 NIV)

Wednesday 16 March 2016

Act 31 - Beeline

Got to admit today's act made me feel very uncomfortable. I'm a card carrying certified introvert so the thought of talking to strangers fills me with anxiety. The exception to this is in my work. I don't know whether this is because I feel completely comfortable in my work environment, probably much more comfortable than any strangers I encounter there, but I also wonder if it has something to so with being in uniform.
I've often thought about how my social anxiety will impact upon my ministry once I'm ordained- will the dog collar - the uniform - actually help rather than hinder?

His disciples said, ’What are you talking about? With this crowd pushing and jostling you, you’re asking, “Who touched me?” Dozens have touched you!’ (Mark 5:31 The Message)

Tuesday 15 March 2016

Act 30 - Margins

The most recent assignment I completed (as part of a trio) was about the marginalisation and demonisation of those receiving welfare. So much current political debate revolves around our benefit and welfare system and those on welfare are vilified in the media. Much of the immigration debate revolves around what those entering the UK are "entitled" to.
The assignment was to look at what the bible says about this issue and therefore what the church should do. There's lots of interesting stuff in Mosaic law about providing for those without means but I go straight to the gospels and Jesus on this matter:

Matthew 25:35-45

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you? And the king will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.’ Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’