Swallowsrest

Advent 2, 2009
Luke 3:1-6
Marian Free

In the name of God who draws near with love and compassion. Amen.

It may or may not surprise you that I have spent considerable time this week reflecting on the gospel. In particular, I have been wondering what it means that the “valleys shall be filled, and every mountain and hill shall be made low.” Why is such a radical rearrangement of the natural world required? God surely can make his presence known to us without completely smoothing out the roughness of the earth.  In fact, does God really need any sort of help from us? Surely if God wants to come, God will simply come? God doesn’t need straight paths, and if God did need them to be straightened, God wouldn’t need our help to do it.

We are called to prepare the way of the Lord, and make his paths straight, but it is possible that the tearing down of mountains and raising up of valleys will happen without our help.

To understand what John is saying, we need to look at his role in the story. Luke tells us at the beginning of his gospel that John’s task is “to turn the people of Israel to the Lord their God” (16, 17). Then in the second chapter, we are told that his father, Zechariah says that he “will be called the prophet of the Most High;
for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways,
to give knowledge of salvation to his people
by the forgiveness of their sins.
By the tender mercy of our God,
the dawn from on high will break upon us,
to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death,
to guide our feet into the way of peace.”

What preparation is required? The usual interpretation is that to prepare for God’s coming we have to be good, that we have to live lives without blemish. The implication being that God is coming in judgement. yet in both Luke and Isaiah, we can see that John is to prepare us, by encouraging us to turn to God, to let us know that we are forgiven and thereby that we are saved.  We will see the glory of the Lord not his wrath. In this context, God’s coming is a blessing not a terror, the smoothing of the path is to make it easier for us to see God’s goodness, not to make it easier for God to come to us!

This means then that any barriers that need leveling are of our own creation and that the preparation of which John speaks, is the removing of the obstacles which we place between ourselves and our acceptance of God’s love for us. Figuratively speaking, we create mountains and dig valleys that prevent us from knowing God’s forgiveness and blind us to the salvation offered by God. Zechariah tells us that we already have both these things, but that we need someone like John to tell us about them and to turn our lives around so that we know that we have them.

The mountains and valleys which prevent us from seeing God and accepting that we are saved and forgiven result from a failure to trust in God, a determination to rely on our own view of reality. And so we build mountains of insecurity and dig valleys of despair. We create hills of hatred and holes of self-pity.  We erect walls of greed, anger, frustration and self-absorption all of which prevent us from seeing the glory of God and discovering the salvation which God offers.

This means that in order to prepare ourselves for God’s coming we must remove all the obstacles which get in the way of our knowing and accepting God’s love for us and taking off the blinkers which blind us to the blessings which God so richly bestows on us. Figuratively speaking, we are to cast down the heights or arrogance and self justification and raise ourselves out of the pits of self indulgence. We must tear down mountains of hatred to expose the love that lies beneath. We must fill the valleys of despair with joy, replace greed with generosity, self-centredness with self-confidence, irritability with peace, frustration with patience, cruelty with kindness, falsehood with faithfulness, self-indulgence with self-control, and harshness with gentleness.

In order to create a straight path or to level the ground between ourselves and God means depending on God, and not on the things of this world, for our peace and happiness.

According to Luke, John comes to assure us that God comes with forgiveness and not judgement; that God comes to shine a light in the midst of our darkness and that God comes with an assurance of our salvation.

We are to prepare ourselves by placing our confidence in God and not in ourselves, by trusting in God and not in our own resources, by accepting that we are forgiven and that thereby we are saved.

It is the hardest thing in the world to let go of our sense of control over our own lives, yet if we can do that, we will find it is the easiest thing in the world to be saved.

Advent 1 – 2009
Luke 21:25-38
Marian Free

In the name of God, always present and yet always out of reach. Amen.

There is a wonderfully telling episode in the Vicar of Dibley in which the stained glass window behind the altar is destroyed in a storm. As the villagers think about its replacement, it becomes clear that no one remembers what was depicted – or at least they all remember, but no two people remember the same thing. It seems amazing. Week after week, this congregation would have sat facing the window, without taking any real notice of it. At first it seems impossible, an exaggeration for the sake of getting a laugh. However, my own experience tells me that there is some truth to it. I have spent time in a Parish in which a similar situation occurred. After a window was destroyed by would-be intruders, it took something like 20 years to discover the name of the person to whom it had been dedicated. Her name had been lost to memory and faithful worshippers had passed the window on a regular basis without really seeing it.

Stories such as this give us pause for thought. How much do we miss because it has become all too familiar? Are there things which we simply don’t see because we are too busy or too pre-occupied. How much of life passes us by because we are too obsessed with the past or too worried about the future? How much of God’s creation simply escapes our notice because we are so focused on other things? Worse still, are we so worried about the coming of God in the future that we fail to notice God’s presence now or so concerned with eternity that we don’t realize that we are living eternity now?

In today’s gospel, Jesus challenges us to be aware of God’s presence in everything around us – both the dramatic and alarming as well as the simple and the everyday. In fact, throughout the gospel, Jesus encourages believers to develop a practice of awareness, openness and expectation, so that unlike his contemporaries, we do not miss what God is saying to us now, or fail to be a part of God’s continuing revelation.

It is easy to simply get on with our lives and push God off into some distant future or place and to either ignore God or to spend our lives worrying what will happen when he comes. It is easy to become so sure that we know who God is and what God wants, that we close our eyes and ears to what God is saying and doing right now. It is easy to become so intent on asking God to give us things that we think we want that we are unable to see how God is continually pouring his blessing on us now.

Jesus calls us back to the present, asks us to live in the moment, to notice what is going on around us and to find God there. He does this by trying to expand our way of thinking and seeing. He shows us that the kingdom is limited to one thing or another: “The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, the kingdom of God is like a bridegroom, the kingdom of God is like a merchant, the kingdom of God is like a mother .. and so on”.

Neither is the kingdom confined by time and place: ‘The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, “Look, here it is!” or “There it is!” For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.’ ‘There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, and on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea and the waves.’ and ‘‘Look at the fig tree and all the trees; 30as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near. 31So also, when you see these things taking place, you know that the kingdom of God is near.’ It is here and not here. It is imminent and yet its coming cannot be foretold. There will be signs and there will be no signs. The signs will be obvious and they will be subtle.

By leaving open the question, Jesus encourages us to be open and alive to possiblity, to be aware of and present to everything that is happening around us instead of being so convinced that we know that we stop looking and close our eyes and ears to God’s continuing revelation. Jesus delights in contradictions, they force us to be open to new ideas and new experiences. So Jesus’ teaching and his unconventional life attempt to shake us out of our limited world view, to open our hearts and minds to a bigger picture, to help us to see what is, rather than what we want to see, to encourage us to be alert to the possibilities of the present and of the future, instead of being bound by reality as we see it.

By freeing us from our sense of confidence and by creating a sense of uncertainty, Jesus is challenging us to be present in every moment, to be aware of what is happening around us, to notice the budding of the fig tree and so not miss a moment of this life which God has given us nor fail to see the presence of God in catastrophe and triumph, in beauty and in ugliness, in the ordinary and in the extraordinary. Jesus does not allow us to become comfortable or complacent, but demands of us a state of openness and expectancy, alertness and watchfulness so that we see and know God now.

What then of Advent? Advent is the church’s gift to us. By focusing our minds on what God has done in Jesus, we are reminded of what God is continuing to do and open to what God will do in the future. Advent is a time of anticipation, of expectation, a time of heightened awareness to the nearness of God’s presence and excitement about Jesus’ return. Advent is a time to stop, look and listen – to the signs of world shattering catastrophe but also to the subtle, simple signs – a child’s smile, an opening bud, a new job, an old friend. It is a time to remind ourselves once again that God is present in all things – the ordinary and extraordinary, the sacred and the mundane.

Advent is an invitation to open ourselves to God’s presence in and around us; it is an invitation to live in God’s present, to see God in all things. Above all, Advent is an invitation to be part of God’s ongoing adventure – an invitation to allow our hearts and minds to be opened and our lives to be transformed by the God who created us, who came to live among us and who continues to enliven us.

Christ the King 2009

John 18:33-37

Marian Free

In the name of God who invites us to journey into the great unknown. Amen.

I have been reading a book by a Catholic Franciscan, Richard Rohr, called “The Naked Now”. His thesis is that Christians have in general, lost the art of seeing the big picture, that we have in effect, reduced Christianity to a rule book, instead of the gateway to a great and wonderful mystery. He suggests that for centuries, believers have been told “what to know rather than how to know, what to see rather than how to see” that we have made our primary goal “sin management” rather than transformation.

The consequences of this approach have, Rohr says, been deleterious. Among other things, living according to doctrinal principles leads to a tendency to dualistic thinking, to a belief that we ourselves can judge between right and wrong, between good and evil. Dualistic thinking can lead us to believe that we have the wisdom to determine who is in and who is out and to impose conditions on those whom we deem fit to belong. At its worst, dualist thinking leads to the sort of arrogance and self-righteousness which creates oppositions and the need to be right and which seeks to impose one’s beliefs on another. It pits one idea against another and creates divisions so great that sometimes violence is the only possible result. At the same time trying to understand or to contain our faith leads to an emaciated, barren set of beliefs measured by what we do rather than who we are.

This is a regrettable state of affairs given that the primary purpose of faith is not to dictate morality or to create labels for people who are different from ourselves, but to provide a window to the unknown. Faith does not provide the answer to all life’s questions nor does it give us the keys to universal certainty. It invites us into a relationship with the totally other, a relationship with God who has never claimed to be accessible or even comprehensible. That we stand before a mysterious unknown was made clear to Moses who, when he asked for the name of God, was told simply “I am who I am, I will be who I will be”. Instead of being giving clarity and definition, we are offered ambiguity and open-endedness.

This paradox is expressed in the contradictions that we find in Jesus. Jesus, the son of God, is indistinguishable from the people around him. He doesn’t behave in the way we might expect God to behave and he is critical of the very church which proclaims faith in him. With few exceptions, Jesus refuses to be defined or to conform to the expectations which people might have had of him.

Today, the feast day of Christ the King, the contradiction is glaringly obvious. The gospel depicts Jesus standing before Pilate – friendless, vulnerable and humiliated, without dignity or status. There are no armies to back him up, no angels to protect him. The judge of humankind is being judged, the creator of the universe is powerless, the giver of life is risking death, the warrior God is confronting defeat.

Instead of reigning as King, Jesus is being tried as a criminal and, as we know, will be condemned and will die as a criminal. We have to admit that, by our criteria, this is hardly a credible candidate to be the son of God, or even the longed for King.

To some extent, Jesus himself provides the answer to this conundrum when he responds to Pilate’s question “Are you a king?” Jesus turns the question back to Pilate and suggests that those who handed him over, and even Pilate himself have the wrong idea about the notion of kingship. In fact, one would have thought this was obvious if they had only really observed what he did and noticed who His followers were. Jesus’ kingship is of a different kind and his purpose is not to win the world by force. “For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice.”

Jesus’ mission has been to confront the very self assurance and arrogance of which Rohr accuses the church. It appears that scribes and the Pharisees had created certainties; they were telling people what to know and how to see. Instead of living with an openness to God and to God’s revelation, they had developed a closed system of belief which provided certainty, but which closed their eyes to mystery and vision. They were good at teaching the people how to follow their teaching, but had lost the art of drawing people into a relationship with God.

Jesus’ hope was to re-open their hearts and minds to the infinite possibilities of faith in the living God. In order to do this, not only did Jesus challenge their teaching, but in his life he created space for relationship by pulling down the walls of certitude and security, by breaking the rules which limited and defined, by separating rigid obedience from grateful response to God and by creating opportunities instead of limiting potential. Among other things, Jesus’ willingness to trust in God exposed the Pharisees determination to depend on themselves, his openness to God’s future revealed their limited vision and his humility before God highlighted their arrogance.

In response to Jesus’ statement, Pilate asks: “What is truth?” If Jesus provides and answer, John has not recorded it. Truth cannot so easily be defined, nor is it something that can be imposed on another. Jesus’ goal is to open our eyes to a bigger truth, by demonstrating that our hold on truth is at best tenuous and at worst a terrible falsehood.

It is the paradox of Jesus’ existence and the contradiction of his passion which opens for us a way into the mystery he proclaims. For the contradictions in his life and teaching force us to abandon our pre-conceptions, to ditch our certainties and to discover the sort of humility which allows us to admit our ignorance, to recognise the limits of our knowledge and to be liberated to enter the limitless, undefined and unrestrained wonder that is God.

Living with uncertainty and being open to possibility is the goal of faith. If we allow ourselves to enter into the paradox then somewhere in the tension between our expectations and the reality, we just might catch a glimpse of God.

Pentecost 23

Mark 12:38-44

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us, Jesus who leads us and the Spirit who inspires us. Amen.

Most of us are familiar with the story of the widow and with Jesus’ implication that her small contribution to the Temple treasury puts to shame that of the Pharisees. The story is often used in the context of stewardship campaigns to challenge us to consider our own commitment. That is certainly one way to interpret the story however, if we hear it in its wider context, we may discover that, for Mark, it has quite a different meaning.

According to Mark, Jesus’ dispute with the authorities has been escalating since his arrival in Jerusalem. In fact, from the beginning of the gospel, Mark has skillfully built up the friction between Jesus and the scribes and the Pharisees. It begins in the second chapter when, to the horror of the authorities, Jesus claims the authority to forgive – something which is God’s prerogative. The tension builds as Jesus breaks the Sabbath, first to pluck grain and then to heal – and the Pharisees plot to put him to death. Later, Jesus accuses the Pharisees and the scribes of hypocrisy and, in a statement which foreshadows today’s gospel. He accuses them of using their obligations to God to excuse them from their obligations to the people around them.

When Jesus enters Jerusalem the conflict escalates to a point from which there is no retreat. Even when he enters the city, he antagonizes the authorities by inciting the crowds and appearing as the king predicted by Zechariah. As if this is not enough, his first action in the city is to drive out the money changers from the Temple and to overturn the seats of those who sell doves. He then tells the parable of the wicked tenants which implicates the Pharisees and scribes in the murder of the prophets and predicts their part in his own death. He defeats the Pharisees in theological arguments and, to add insult to injury, Jesus directly accuses the scribes of self-seeking behaviour and of the oppression of the poor (represented here by widows).

At first glance, the story of the widow does not seem to fit Mark’s purpose of describing the growing hostility between Jesus and the authorities. However, the positioning of the story indicates its significance. Mark places it between Jesus’ denunciation of the scribes and his prediction of the destruction of the Temple – a statement which causes so much offense that it is quoted as testimony in the trial against him. This suggests that the story is not just a story of generosity, but that it belongs to Jesus’ criticism of the Temple cult and those who support it.

A number of unusual features in the story support this view. For example, unlike other characters in the gospel, the widow does not interact with Jesus, she is not in need of healing, nor is she commended for her faith. She is not, and does not become a follower of Jesus and her life is not changed by the event which Mark recounts. In fact the widow appears to be quite independent of, and oblivious to Jesus. Further, Jewish law was quite clear about the protection of and support for the widow and orphan. The Temple should have been supporting the widow, not the widow it.

As Jesus and others saw it, the practice of religion had replaced a relationship with God. Outward form had taken precedence over inner holiness. Religious observance had become an end in itself, replacing faith and obligation to others. One result of this was that those who could least afford it were exploited by the cult which had developed around the Temple. Instead of supporting them, the cult demanded that they support it. Wealthy widows were particularly vulnerable. Having no other protectors they were dependent on the scribes to manage their affairs and were not always able to see when they are being taken advantage of.

So Jesus denounces the scribes whose desire for wealth and status meant that they were using their position to take advantage of those for whom they had a duty of care. Long prayers, he says, are not evidence of their piety but are designed to encourage the unsuspecting to believe in their sincerity. The mention of widows in Jesus’ attack leads into the story of a widow who gives the last of her money to the Temple. The widow is exploited not by the direct action of the scribes, but by a cultic system which insists that her gift is necessary even though she cannot afford it.

A common understanding of the story is that Jesus is commending the widow for her action. Yet, there are no words of commendation – simply a statement of fact. In the light of his critique of the Temple cult, it seems unlikely that Jesus would be praising someone for supporting it. For Jesus the widow represents all that is false and corrupt in the Temple cult – the exploitation of the poor and the use of false piety to avoid responsibility. Rather than commending the woman, Jesus is drawing attention to the way in which the system is abusing her – she will have nothing to live on.

In this story Jesus, for once, is not a participant but an observer. The widow is unaware that she is being watched and Jesus does not engage her in conversation. She may not know who Jesus is, or that he is observing the Temple. Yet it appears that her actions have a profound effect on him. This is demonstrated by the fact that Jesus utters words that elsewhere he reserves for statements about the future: “Truly, I say.”

In her study of the passage, Kinukawa suggests that the action of the widow goes straight to the heart of Jesus’ self definition. The widow is not to be changed by Jesus, but Jesus by her. The widow, who has nothing, gives what little she has and trusts God with her future. Jesus, sitting at a distance, observes her willingness to place her trust God despite the failure of the Temple cult. Her action provokes him to commit his life to God as she has hers. Her experience of exploitation compels him to continue his collision course with the authorities. Injustice must be challenged, oppression confronted and false piety exposed. Whatever the cost to himself, Jesus will continue his mission and place his trust entirely in God no matter what the future may bring.

A woman gives everything she has, and Jesus, watching her, knows that for him, there is no going back.

All Saints (2009)

Marian Free In the name of God, who sent Jesus Christ to be our only mediator and guide. Amen.

I’d like you all to turn to the back of your prayer books. On page 476 you will find the text of the thirty nine articles – those tenets “agreed upon by the Archbishops, Bishops and the whole clergy of the Provinces of Canterbury and York” form the basis of the Anglican expression of Christianity. These were the articles of faith, which the Church in England determined in response to the Reformation. Every ordained person and every Liturgical Assistant in the Anglican Church of Australia still signs their assent to these before they are licenced to serve in the church.

That they were written in a time of foment and religious debate – particularly with the Church in Rome – is obvious in more than one of the articles. The one that concerns us today, as we celebrate All Saint’s Day is number XXII of Purgatory. It states: “The Romish Doctrine concerning Purgatory, Pardons, Worshipping and Adoration, as well of Images as of Reliques, and also invocation of Saints is a fond thing vainly invented, and grounded upon no warranty of Scripture, but rather repugnant to the Word of God.”

Strong words you will agree, and something of an embarrassment in the context of modern ecumenism.  However, it is important to remember the context in which the articles were written. The Middle Ages were a time of great religious revival. New religious orders were founded, people from all walks of life embarked on pilgrimages, people like Julian of Norwich became anchorites, mysticism abounded and great spiritual works were written. It was also a time of excesses and of a popular piety which placed emphasis on devout observances, saints, relics and pilgrimages to the point that the person and teaching of Jesus took second place. Educated and uneducated people alike were drawn to this popular form of pietism which bordered on superstition. It was against such excesses that the Reformers rebelled.

The popular veneration of saints, and the belief in their miraculous power led to the creation of an industry based around their veneration and belief in their divine intervention. Just as tourism is a vital part of the economy today, so pilgrimages to the shrine of a saint provided a form of income and employment to any place which could claim such an association. This meant that being able to prove that one’s town or village had a relationship with a saint, or that miracles had been performed there led to it being a destination for those looking for a miraculous cure or for a way to demonstrate their personal piety.

As a consequence there was a great trade in Reliques. Bones, pieces of clothing, or other items that had belonged to a Saint were sufficient to draw pilgrims to the place where they were to be found. Even something as small and bizarre as a piece of a fingernail was believed to contain the power of the saint to whom it had belonged and was worth trying to obtain. Perhaps one of the most macabre examples of the practice relates to Catherine of Sienna. Catherine was born in Sienna, but died in Rome. After her death both towns wanted to capitalize on their association with her and a dispute broke out between the two towns. In the end, a compromise was reached – Rome kept Catherine’s body and Sienna was allowed to have her head. If you go to Sienna today, you can see her head displayed in San Domenico the church in which she grew up. A similar conflict arose between San Damiano and Assisi, both of which wanted to capitalize on St Francis’ association with their towns. Francis’ actual burial place was not discovered until 1818. His body had been hidden between two floors of the Basilica because the people of Assisi was so afraid that his body might be plundered by the citizens of San Damiano and his bones sold throughout Europe.

Among other things, the Reformation sought to put an end to such excesses. However, the Anglican Church did not abandon the commemoration of Saints altogether. A glance at our Lectionary will demonstrate that we continue to hold in high regard martyrs, teachers, social reformers and holy men and women. Despite the fact that only Charles the 1st has been canonized since the Reformation, many who have led exemplary and lives are recognised in our calendar – including heroes of the Reformation and missionaries and teachers of the succeeding centuries.

In 1958 the Lambeth Conference clarified the way in which Saints and Heroes of the Church might be commemorated:

• In the case of scriptural saints, care should be taken to commemorate men or women in term which are in accord with Holy Scripture.                                                                                                                                                                                                 • In the case of other names, the Calendar should be limited to those whose historical character and devotion are beyond doubt.                                                                                                                                                                                                             • In the choice of new names economy should be observed and controversial names should not be added until they can be seen in the perspective of history.                                                                                                                                                       • The addition of a new name should normally result from a wide-spread desire expressed in the region concerned over a reasonable period of time.

This means that throughout the Communion, there is a degree of freedom to add to the Calendar people of significance to a particular region. The Calendar which we in Australia use, will differ from that elsewhere, for our pioneer bishops, indigenous clergy and social reformers will mean little to those in other regions.

Saints are exciting, romantic and adventurous like Joan of Arc or George the Dragon Slayer, they are humble and gentle like Francis, compassionate like Margaret of Scotland and Elizabeth of Hungary, intellectual giants like Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, poets, musicians and doctors like Hildegard of Bingen. They are great proclaimers of the gospel like Paul and the early Celtic saints – Patrick, Alban, Columba and Cuthbert. They were obedient to their Lord and Saviour, but often disobedient to secular rulers. They were brave and foolish, innocent and wily, comforting and confronting, filled with joy and yet no stranger to suffering.

Holy men and women of every age inspire us to deepen our spiritual lives, to broaden our knowledge of our faith, to stand up for what is right, to fight for justice, to live with integrity, to care for God’s people and to share our faith with the world. May our lives and our faith be challenged by the heroism, commitment, wisdom and spirituality of the saints who have gone before us and may we in our turn, inspire and encourage those who follow after.

Pentecost 21
Mark 10:46-52
Marian Free

In the name of God who opens our eyes that we might see. Amen.

On the surface, the healing of Bartimaeus, is a simple miracle story. A blind man seeks and receives healing. There are a few embellishments to be sure. The crowd tries to hush the man’s cries for help. For some reason the man throws off his cloak when Jesus calls him. And though the man asked for healing, Jesus tells him that he is “saved”. There are also a couple of puzzles. The gospel begins: “They came to Jericho.” We are told nothing more about the visit for the very next sentence is: “As he and his disciples and a large crowd were leaving Jericho.” Mark uses the Aramaic form of the man’s name and then explains it in Greek – the listeners would not have needed to be told that “Bar” means son of. The beggar refers to Jesus as Son of David and even though he is identified as a beggar, Bartimaeus does not ask for money, but for healing. (Healing for a beggar would mean the loss of his source of income and the need to find a new form of employment.)

For the last three chapters – 8-10, Mark has used the language of journey to frame his story. He places Jesus and his disciples on route to Jerusalem and uses the journey to reveal Jesus’ suffering and death, to highlight the disciple’s failure to understand, and to explore the nature of leadership in the community which he is forming. The journey narrative is framed by accounts of the healing of blind men. At the beginning of the journey, Mark recounts the story of a more elaborate healing. A blind (unnamed) man is brought to Jesus who takes him outside the village. Jesus spits on his eyes and the man’s sight returns, but is blurred. Then Jesus lays his hands on him and he sees clearly. When his sight is restored, he is sent away and told to not even enter the village.

In contrast with this, complex, private healing, the journey ends with the very public story of Bartimaeus. Bartimaeus is already outside the town and it is he who calls for Jesus rather than others who take him to him.  Bartimaeus uses the expression “Son of David”, foreshadowing the entry into Jerusalem when the crowds will welcome Jesus with that same cry. The naming of Jesus as Son of David also brings to mind a Jewish tradition that Solomon (David’s son was a healer and magician). The crowds, instead of taking Bartimaeus to Jesus try to silence him, but Jesus seeks him out and calls him to him. The healing is immediate and simple. Bartimaeus is commended for his faith and told that he is “saved”. He is not sent secretly away as is the man in the first story, but he becomes one of Jesus’ followers and follows him on the way – which, as the hearers of the gospel recognise, means to follow Jesus in the way of suffering and death.

The two stories of healing contribute to the larger story which begins with secrecy and ends with the full revelation of who Jesus is, and what it means to be his disciple. The healing of the blind man is followed by Peter’s declaration that Jesus is the Christ. Jesus follows this by revealing what it means to be the Christ – he will suffer and die and on the third day rise. Peter is unable to comprehend this and is rebuked by Jesus who tells his followers that in order to be his disciples they must follow in his footsteps and be prepared to “take up their cross”, to put the call of God before the call of the world.
The nature of Jesus is made even more explicit by the Transfiguration, which is followed by an account of the disciple’s inability to cast out demons. Jesus again foretells his death and resurrection, to which the disciples respond by trying to decide which of them is the greatest. Jesus confronts their struggle for prominence by using a child to teach them about servant leadership. However, they fail to understand and their self-centredness is further highlighted by their attempt to prevent someone else from casting out demons in Jesus’ name.

Children are again used as exemplars of those who will inherit the kingdom, before Jesus predicts his death and resurrection for one final time. This time James and John respond by requesting seats at Jesus’ right and left in heaven – something which Jesus cannot promise. He again stresses that the nature of leadership in the new economy is that of service, not of seeking places of honour and lording it over others. Finally, in contrast to James and John who ask for places of prominence, the beggar simply asks for mercy indicating that it is he, not they who really understands the nature of discipleship. By “following Jesus on the way”, Bartimaeus shows a willingness that the disciples as yet lack – to follow Jesus, no matter what the cost.

So you see, the simple story of the healing of a blind man, is a story of faith which leads to salvation and discipleship which leads to the cross. It brings to an end an unfolding of who Jesus is and how his mission will be played out. Mark uses the story here to highlight the misunderstanding of the disciples, the cost of discipleship and to introduce Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem which begins the final chapter of the story.

In the wider context, a journey sequence that began with blindness and secrecy is now concluded with clear vision and complete openness about the nature and purpose of Jesus. Who he is, and what it means to follow him is now made known to all.

As listeners to this we are challenged to re-examine our own response to Jesus, to ask ourselves whether we are prepared to pay the cost of discipleship, and whether we understand the nature of community as Jesus imagined it would be. Are we, like the disciples, unable to really confront the implications of the crucifixion? Are we guilty of seeking recognitions for ourselves, rather than exercising our ministry in the service of others? Are we willing to express simple trust, or do we like the disciples want to turn away from the difficult things Jesus tells us?

Jesus says to Bartimaeus: “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asks us that same question: “What do you want me to do for you?” Our answer to that question tells him everything he needs to know about our faith, our understanding and our trust in him. What is it that we really want, and what does that say about us?

Pentecost 20

Mark 10:32-45

Marian Free

In the name of Jesus Christ who calls us to share in the work of salvation. Amen.

It is a statement of the obvious to suggest that we are all different and that as a result the way we experience events in our lives differs greatly from one person to another. For example, it is well known that men and women tend to grieve in different ways. We know that some people wear their heart on their sleeves while others are more restrained and keep their emotions hidden. The person who sobs with grief or who leaps with joy may be no more sad than the person who stoically dabs their eyes and no more ecstatic than the one who calmly accepts good news.

Having said this, there still exists an expectation of how people should react in a particular circumstance and a tendency to condemnation or impatience if they do not. I heard the most shocking story on the radio one morning this year. A woman whose husband had died recently rang to say that when she was still obviously sad six weeks after his death she was told that she “should get over it.” How sad and isolating it must have been for her to feel that her experience was not normal, that she could not share her continuing sense of grief with her friends and that others did not understand or try to understand what she was going through.

I am sure that many of us have, at one time or another experienced the loneliness and isolation of being misunderstood – whether it is our anxiety about getting things right or being somewhere on time, our excitement about something which others trivialize or dismiss or our depression relating to losing a job or missing out on the promotion, we can feel completely alone if no one else understands how we feel, or if no one else is able to sympathise with our joy or our sorrow.

Imagine then, what it must have been like to be Jesus. He has specially chosen twelve people to share his ministry. To them he has told things that he has told no one else. He has given to them the interpretation of the parables and he has empowered them to cure the sick and to cast out demons. Now, when he tells them about his death and resurrection, they behave as if they haven’t even heard him. Worse, two of the twelve, James and John, are so unable to come to terms with what Jesus is saying that they change the subject completely – effectively dismissing any idea that Jesus might be anxious or afraid. It’s a wonder that Jesus doesn’t abandon his mission there and then.

This is now the third time that he has told the disciples that he is going to die, and still they do not understand. Instead, they can think only of themselves and what is in it for them. “We want you to do for us whatever we ask.” “Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory.” Jesus is talking about being handed over, mocked, spat upon and killed and all James and John can think of is their own future aggrandizement. This is the third time that Jesus has announced his death and resurrection. Each time the pattern has been the same – the misunderstanding of the disciples followed by an explanation of what his mission is really about.

On the first occasion, Peter takes Jesus aside and rebukes him. Jesus responds with a exhortation for his followers to take up their cross and follow him. In the face of Peter’s refusal to accept the reality of Jesus’ death, Jesus concludes that “whoever is ashamed of me and of my words, of them the Son of man will also be ashamed when he comes in his glory” (8:38).

The second time Jesus predicts his crucifixion, the disciples “did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him” (9:32). The disciples are apparently unable to cope with the possibility of Jesus’ death and react by changing the subject. They begin an argument as to who among them is the greatest. They deal with their own fear and confusion by focusing on something that is tangible and concrete. Perhaps this is a way of dealing with the uncertainty of the future – determining roles for themselves on the off-chance that Jesus’ prediction is correct and that they will be left on their own. Jesus takes the opportunity to illustrate what true leadership is – the first must be last and the last must be first.

On this, the third occasion, the disciples begin by being amazed and afraid. Jesus is walking alone. He calls the twelve to him and predicts in detail what is about to happen. Again there is no response. Then James and John make their audacious request: “We want you to give us what ever we ask.” It’s hard to imagine what they were thinking – unless, afraid of what would happen without Jesus they are keen to secure their place for all eternity. Of course, the other ten are furious – why should James and John expect special treatment? (It appears that none of the twelve have learnt the lesson of the previous occasion – they still think that the first should be first!)

Jesus exhibits infinite patience. He tries to explain the concept of leadership in yet another way. They well know that the Romans exercise power through force and intimidation. Jesus suggests that this is not the way to exercise real leadership. True leadership, true greatness is demonstrated in service of others. Jesus will show this to be true by giving his life “as a ransom for many.” Jesus followers, by implication, will live lives of service, be prepared to take up their cross and willing to give their lives for others. Up until the very end, Jesus’ closest friends show an unwillingness to fully enter into the experience. They respond to Jesus’ predictions of his death by changing the subject, implying that he doesn’t know what he is talking about and looking to their own futures with no apparent understanding as to what will happen in his. There must have been moments when Jesus felt utterly isolated and alone.

It is profoundly confronting to think that God, who through Jesus have invited us to share in the work of salvation, might feel disappointed, misunderstood and alone. Despite this, Jesus with infinite patience explains and re-explains to us, what it means, what it looks like and what it costs. We can respond to Jesus’ challenge by demonstrating our ignorance and fear, we can choose to ignore the difficult questions and try to evade the cost of discipleship, or we can join forces with Jesus, take up our cross, learn what it means to serve others and begin to understand what it means to give our lives for the life of the world.

Pentecost 19

Mark 10:17-33

Marian Free

In the name of God who calls us to rely totally on Him. Amen.

I recently read an article about three young Britons who chose an unusual method to raise funds for their favourite charity (Book Aid International). They gave up their jobs and gave away everything they owned in order to travel around Australia – entirely dependent on the kindness of strangers . I read the article with some skepticism. Their idea of dependence included publicizing their intentions before setting out and seeking and gaining sponsorship – notably the use of a Camper Van. So they were not completely without resources. As well as that, they had the advantage of media attention and were able to use the internet to alert towns and regions to their project and to their imminent arrival. Often they were met at the outskirts of a town with offers of work or accommodation. However, as I read on, I realized that despite the apparent advantages they had, they still did it hard. They had to live with constant uncertainty. There wasn’t always work to be had, a shower to be found or a bed to sleep in. Their diet often consisted of greasy food and their health suffered. They were unable to take care of their appearance. They had said that they would do any work which meant that many people gave them job which they had been putting off for some time, or work that no one else would do.

Anna and her friends raised $22,000. At the end of the journey, she says that the experience changed her. She “no longer shops with the same abandon as she used to. She only buys what she needs.” Her plans to spend her trip painting the outback were overtaken by the need to find shelter, food and work and she realized that creativity “needs time and leisure”. While not claiming that she knows what it is really like to be poor, Anna now feels that she has “a greater empathy for the children she is trying to help.”

These people were not Christians – or at least they were not claiming Christ as the reason for their project – but their action seems to comply with Jesus’ suggestion to the young man in today’s story: “sell everything and follow me.” I am not sure that this particular story is asking all of us to give up everything and to throw ourselves on the mercy of the world. However, I do believe that the gospel challenges all of us to consider carefully our attitudes to money and to what we own. Both the New and Old Testaments have plenty to say about money and our use of it.

When Israel was established, there were very clear guidelines about the care of widows and orphans and of the stranger in their midst. The most vulnerable in the society were to be cared for by those who were better off. There were also injunctions about our responsibilities to God and to the church. For how could the people worship God if the place of worship was not maintained and provided for? In the Old Testament we find the concept of first fruits – giving the first and best of the harvest and the flock to God. We are also introduced to the idea of tithing – giving ten percent of one’s income to God.

Our offering to God, which in today’s church is through our weekly contribution during the service, is first and foremost part of our spiritual development. It is a means of deepening our relationship with God and reducing our dependence on the world. Our offering to God reminds us that the values of this world are not the values of the kingdom. So we give in response to God’s generosity towards us. We give in response to the needs of the world which God loves and we give knowing not only that we have all that we need, but that we have much more besides.

In return, we gain a deeper appreciation of what we really need to live on and a deeper understanding of what it means to truly depend on God. We learn not to take ourselves so seriously and to sit lightly with the values and strivings of a materialistic world. We demonstrate by our satisfaction with what we have a peace with ourselves and the world. Scripture demonstrates this to be true. The widow who uses the last of her oil and flour to make bread for Elijah, discovers that she is never without. The boy who gives his lunch to Jesus discovers that not only is he not hungry, but that his small lunch is able to feed 5,000 others. Luke puts it this way: “give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.” And today’s gospel suggests: “there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields, for my sake and for the sake of the good news, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age and in the age to come eternal life.”

When we give all that we can we discover that the blessings that we receive far outweigh the cost of what we have given. When we put ourselves and our lives in God’s hands, when we trust God to meet our most basic and our deepest needs, when we do our best to do all that God asks, we find that our lives rather than being limited or constrained, are enriched and enlarged. A life lived in and for God will be filled with joy, peace and contentment in this life which in turn foreshadow the rewards of the life to come.

This is quite different from the so-called prosperity gospel, which preaches that a sign of faith is the wealth that you have. If faith and wealth went hand in hand, the Christians in the third world would be abounding in riches and the unbelievers in the industrialized countries would be as poor as church mice.

The riches that we receive through faith cannot be measured by human standards, nor do they necessarily conform to ideas of wealth and success in the society in which we find ourselves. But we know that through Jesus, we possess a wealth which the world cannot give, and as our faith grows and deepens we understand that we would be willing to give absolutely everything in order to retain it.

Pentecost 17

Mark 9:38-50

Marian Free

In the name of God whose generosity and power extend beyond anything we can imagine.  Amen.

There is an old movie, “Leap of Faith”, which tells the tale of a man, Jonas Nightingale who makes an income leading “revivals” and who takes his Miracles and Wonders show on the road around the United States. It’s a great show – there is a full gospel choir, an impassioned message, the frenzy of “Amens” and “Hallelujahs” and of course there are the miracles. We, the movie watchers, know the secrets. The miracles are not really miracles, but are a carefully staged show. Jonas’ staff eavesdrop on the conversations of the audience as they enter the tent. They relay the information to Jonas who can then “miraculously” identify their concerns. When an elderly woman enters, the staff ask if she is local. When she responds that she is from 30 miles away they offer her a place in the front row and a wheelchair to make her more comfortable. Later the same woman is brought to the stage so that she can be assisted from the wheelchair to miraculously walk again! The whole thing happens so quickly and the dynamic is so electric, that no one in the audience realize that they have been had.

In the story, a vehicle breaks down, forcing an unexpected stop in a drought stricken town. It is not an ideal place to set up business and the crew could use a rest. Nightingale sees it as a challenge – his motto is $10000 a day and he doesn’t like the idea of losing four days pay. So despite initial resistance and pleas from the town’s sheriff, up go the tents and out goes the promotion. That night desperate farmers and townsfolk flock to the show and when the buckets are passed around the money pours in.

Nightingale is completely unscrupulous – he is able to turn everything to his advantage – even the exposure of his seedy past! However, this town h as a particular challenge. A teenage boy Boyd has been crippled in the car accident which killed his parents and despite a previous – failed – attempt at a miracle cure, he continues to believe that God’s hand is on his life. During one of the shows, Boyd makes his way to the front and Nightingale, knowing that he can do nothing to help, leaves the stage claiming that he is worn out the miracles. However, the crowd has seen the boy and it rises to its feet calling “one more miracle” until Jonas reappears.

Jonas is stuck, but he falls back on his “insurance policy” – healing is dependent on faith. He tells the crowd that if there is even one doubter in the tent the boy’s healing will be in jeopardy. Boyd is undeterred. Ignoring Nightingale and the crowd he struggles to the life size crucifix at the back of the tent and reaches out to clutch the feet of Jesus. As he steps away his damaged leg is strengthened until, yes, he walks unaided – he is healed! Jonas is stunned, he doesn’t believe in miracles. He doesn’t believe in God. He knows himself to be a conman, yet the evidence is before his eyes – Boyd can walk.

“John said to him, ‘Teacher, we saw someone – casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.’ 39But Jesus said, ‘Do not stop him; for no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterwards to speak evil of me. 40Whoever is not against us is for us.”

Today’s gospel is filled with complexities which cannot easily be understood out of context. It belongs to a larger sub-section of Mark’s gospel which began at verse 30 when Jesus for a second time announced his death and resurrection. The immediate response is fear, followed by an argument among themselves as to which of them is the greatest. Then John, who is given a voice only here in Mark’s gospel, reports that he and the other disciples stopped someone who was casting out demons in Jesus’ name. Apparently an exorcist is using Jesus’ name as some sort of magical formula – and achieving some success as a result. The concern of the disciples is that he is not one of them. Their criticism of the stranger is even more damning when one remembers that in the days immediately before, they had demonstrated an inability to cast out a demon which caused a young boy to cast himself into the fire.

John is probably expecting Jesus to praise the disciples for their action, but if this is so, they would have been disappointed to receive instead his censure. “Do not stop him.” In this brief interaction, the arrogance and self-absorption of the disciples has been exposed, as has their failure to understand. They have obviously thought that because Jesus has chosen them and empowered them to act in his name that this power has become their exclusive right. Worse than that, they seem to be claiming some sort of equality with Jesus. John doesn’t say, “we stopped him because he was not following you”. Instead he reveals the self-centredness of himself and the disciples when he says: “he was not following us”. Instead of giving credit to Jesus for the gifts that they have received, he is claiming leadership, influence and power for the disciples.

The disciples have failed to understand the nature of the power given to them. It is not theirs, but God’s. They exercise their healing ministry and the ministry of exorcism not by any quality of their own, but only by virtue of the power of God acting through them. They argue about who is the greatest, they try to prevent someone doing something good in Jesus’ name, and they assume they have a ministry all their own, rather than one that has been entrusted to them by Jesus.

Today’s gospel is a corrective against any sort of arrogance that assumes that we as disciples can manipulate or direct God. It is a salutary reminder that we are not members of an exclusive club which has a patent on goodness or good deeds. It reinforces the knowledge that miracles are always the work of God, and never the result of our own ability or power. We are always dependent on God, not God on us. Even the cynical Jonas Nightingale who uses the name of Jesus to achieve his own materialistic end, ultimately cannot stop or control the power of God working through him for good. Having experienced Jesus’ power for himself, he cannot help but speak well of him.

“For no one who does a deed of power in my name will be able soon afterwards to speak evil of me. Whoever is not against us is for us”.

We cannot stop God working through or with anyone, we can only rejoice that God’s work is done and that we, at times have the privilege to share in it.

Stewardship Sunday – 20 September 2009

Michael Willis

Executive Director – Presbyterian and Methodist Schools Association

Mark 9:30-37

Jesus and his disciples left from there and began a journey through Galilee, but he did not wish anyone to know about it.  He was teaching his disciples and telling them, “The Son of Man is to be handed over to men and they will kill him, and three days after his death the Son of Man will rise.”  But they did not understand the saying, and they were afraid to question him.

They came to Capernaum and, once inside the house, he began to ask them, “What were you arguing about on the way?”  But they remained silent.  They had been discussing among themselves on the way who was the greatest.

Then he sat down, called the Twelve, and said to them, “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.”

Taking a child, he placed it in the their midst, and putting his arms around it, he said to them, “Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me.”

It is said that lightning doesn’t strike twice. Well, this is the second time in my life that I’ve been in this spot.

The last time was about 30 years ago, at an annual ecumenical service for the churches of this area. I was then a young student at the Catholic Seminary at Banyo, undertaking a placement in the local Catholic Church in Hamilton, St Cecilia’s. I had to read a lesson for the service.

You made quite an impression on me! Because I didn’t go on to become a Catholic priest. In fact I left the seminary and became an Anglican, got married in the Anglican Church at Toowong, where Marion and I served together on the council. And I have since spent a fair bit of my life working with the Anglican Church – at Anfin, and with Anglicare, and now, I work for the Presbyterian & Methodist Schools Association.

I tell that story to illustrate that things are changing in the way Australians relate to churches. The old order is well and truly gone. Once, religion was in your genes, it was handed down and kept within the family.  Now it is very different – it is very much a matter of personal choice, and (to use the quaint phrases of the computer geeks) is no longer the “default option” for most Australians.

You may have heard of the British journal called The Economist.  Two editors of this financial journal published a new book last week – on religion! One of these two, John Micklethwait, is the journal’s religion editor – a Catholic – and the other, Adrian Wooldridge, is an atheist.

Their book is titled “God is Back: how the global revival of faith is changing the world”

Their thesis is that in recent years, religion has undergone a remarkable global revival.

The conventional secularist view (as propounded by Richard Dawkins and others) is that religion is dying. That it faces too many social advances… scientific discoveries in physics, biology and archaeology;  the growing material wealth that we’ve enjoyed in the last 60 years;  the political, sexual and social freedoms we’ve enjoyed in that time; the technologies that have changed the way we relate to people; the multi-cultural milieu of our society; and a post-modernist understanding of our world.  In the face of all these waves, church membership and religious belief are being eroded; and that the ageing and decline of our churches confirms this.

The authors of this book agree that in the old world – particularly in Europe – this argument holds true, because religion is so bound up with traditional authorities. As examples, they offer:

• In Germany and Sweden, churches are still funded through compulsory taxes;
• In Ireland and Italy, the churches’ moral teachings determine many laws;
• Even in Britain, the Prime Minister still has some influence over who heads the Church of England.

In this old world, people are voting with their feet and leaving the churches. The authors argue that this is a rebellion against religious authoritarianism – that state authority is no different to the old village and parental determinism. People are rejecting religious conscription!

But, they claim, there is life in the new world (ie: the USA). Their argument is that religion actually flourishes in freedom, and prospers most when it has to adapt to modern life, to freedom and to pluralism.

Why? Well, this is where the economists in them come to the fore – they explain that pluralism means choice. And the result is that faith, religious belief, is increasingly being chosen, not inherited.

Where churches have responded to the needs of their communities, rather than controlling their communities, religion has flourished.

(They use the example of immigration – that migrants generally become more religious when they move to a new place, to help them retain their identity. Correspondingly, the host communities also become more religious, as they reassess and claim their own values and identity. If we bear in mind that one in every four Australian was not born here, there is quite an opportunity and a challenge for our churches in that tale.)

So what can this book tell us about what St Augustine’s Church might be in the future?

What it tells us is that

1. Our churches cannot assume a generational hand-me-down. Nobody comes here anymore because they feel obliged to, or because mum and dad did!  It is not the “default option”.
   Our pews are now almost totally filled by people who attend church by conscious choice.
2. And most importantly, our Churches have to engage with our community, to give them a reason to WANT to come here.

I believe our Anglican Church is capable of doing this well – and of doing it a lot better than we do it at the moment.

To me, Anglicanism appeals as a very practical sort of faith. It didn’t waste time on the un-necessary stuff, it doesn’t create false illusions.  It deals with practical Christianity for real people.

We don’t, for example, go in for excessive commitment to any form of authority or fundamentalism – whether it is some centralist authority, or a literalist view of our sacred texts, or for any emotional excesses in our religious practices. We hold the three pillars of faith – scriptures, tradition and reason in a creative and realistic tension.

Our tradition might seem a little bland, but it tries to deal in an earthy way with the challenges of life.

Let me give you an example of what I mean. My son goes to an Anglican school, and has done so now for 8 years. One great trait of this school is that it has a very clear focus, that I think most of its students and parents could express, if asked. It is set out in four simple aims:

1. Academic achievement
2. Personal growth
3. Spiritual awareness; and
4. Service to the community

These four aims cover all of the ordinary, practical stuff of human life. They are easily applied across most aspect of life, and are tools that teenagers, like my son, can take with them for the rest of their lives. Those four tenets might be adapted for all stages of life…

1. Academic achievement
   Can mean achieving the best in the walk of life one chooses – being the best carpenter, accountant, entrepreneur, nurse, parent or partner, in whatever vocation one enters; doing it well, reaching your potential.
2. Personal growth
   At school, this might mean being a musician, a sportswoman or a debater. But beyond that stage, at its heart, it is about building good relationships, acknowledging our own weakness and our need for growth and improvement.

The next two tenets are where a church school might diverge from others, and where there is a real challenge for us as a church.

1. Spiritual awareness
   This is not some prescriptive demand for religious obedience, but a challenge to reflect on the deeper meaning of life, and even death, to consider the question of ultimate meaning and destiny, and how that might impact on how we might live our lives today and tomorrow.
   Fortunately, we can draw on the great teachings of our traditions, particularly our scriptures and the teachings and actions of Jesus, to help us make sense of the challenges we face in life.
2. Service
   “Service” should flow on from the last challenge of spiritual reflection – it means simply the realisation that we all have been given something in our lives, and that we should give back to our community in some tangible way.

There has been an interesting debate this week in the Qld Parliament. The State member for Bundamba, Jo-Ann Miller whose electorate include the emerging Springfield development, made the statement that this new city has no soul – that the absence of churches, and scout halls, means it lacks a genuine spiritual centre and is poorer for that lack.

Now whether that is true is a matter for debate. But it presents a real challenge to our churches, and maybe for you here at St Augustine’s:

What is your church to be? Does this church help to provide a soul for the community of Hamilton? Will it be a place where those twin aims of “spiritual awareness” and community service are evident, so that it engages your community and invites people to want to join?

To use an old desert image used many times in the scriptures, many people “draw from this well”. Some of you come here each week, to be challenged and refreshed, offered some inner meaning to return to your lives, your work, your families and friends.

Others come here in times of need, or at critical moments in their lives – some for help in dealing with death and grief; others come at time of change in their lives, migrants from other cities or countries, maybe to be married or to welcome a new child, some for help in a crisis.

For whatever reason you come here, for whatever reason they come here, this place, your church has been the heart of your community.

How well this church does that today and tomorrow is a choice for you to make. It doesn’t just “happen”, like it once did. And it is not a challenge we can just out-source to our clergy.

It is a task for everyone who chooses to be a part of this place.

Having drawn from this well, what can you and I do to put something back in?

It is not my place to judge or advise how any one of us puts something back.

It is done in different ways, some not obvious at all. Many people do the nuts and bolts of church life – making rosters, cleaning the place, maintaining the buildings.  Others have different gifts to offer, as counsellors and shoulders on which others can cry, or offering business skills, resources and equipment.
I gather that you have a terrific community stall that raises funds and engages with many in need among your local community.

But for many of us in churches, what we draw from this well is then contributed back in other places – we take our nourishment here each Sunday, and it enriches and guides our family life, our work, our relationships and our contributions in other communities.  Many people here will never know what this place offers to you, and how you contribute elsewhere.

But wherever we do contribute, it is important to remember that this well-spring must be maintained. If this place is to provide a soul for your community, and for you in your wider life, then it has to be supported and provisioned.

So, to return to my school story, if St Augustine’s Church provides you with that spiritual awareness, or if it helps you to serve your community in some way, then please take some time to reflect on what you might do to maintain the well-spring.  It needs your support, for this place to offer those two core elements, both to you and to the many other people who come here to be nourished.

“Anyone who wishes to be first should be the last of all and the servant of all.”  (Mk 9:35)

Or in other words…  We will only get out of life what we put in.

May God keep St Augustine’s Church, for many years to come, as the place where the soul of Hamilton is nurtured and your community is cared for.