From the Minister 2021
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@ All rights reserved
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From the Minister (December, 5)
Sermon for Advent 2 on Luke 3:1-6.
[I acknowledge the work of Debie Thomas]
In this week’s Gospel, we read that the word of the Lord came to John in the wilderness. Why the wilderness? Why such a barren and desolate setting? If you have any experience in real estate, you know the mantra: “Location location location.” Location is key. The place where we stand, the terrain we occupy, the space from which we speak — these things matter.
I’ve never seen John the Baptist featured in an Advent calendar or a Christmas display, but all four Gospels place him front and centre in Jesus’s origin story. John’s gaunt austerity is the only gateway we have to the swaddling clothes, angel's wings, and fleecy lambs we hold dear each December.
As baffling as it may seem, the holy drama of the season depends on the locust-eating baptizer’s opening act. So again, why the wilderness?
Why does Advent begin in the wilderness?
Our Gospel reading for the week takes pains to position John very carefully in time and space: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius,” Luke writes, “when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas,”
John heard God’s word in the wilderness.
That’s seven seats of wealth, power, and influence in just one sentence.
Seven centres of authority, both political and religious.
Seven Very Important People occupying seven Very Important Positions.
But God’s word doesn’t come to any of them.
Perhaps the first wilderness lesson, then, is a lesson about power.
The Gospel highlights a startling juxtaposition between those who experience God’s speaking presence and those who don’t. In Luke’s account, emperors, governors, rulers, and high priests — the folks who wield power — don’t hear God, but the outsider from the wilderness does.
What is it about power that deafens us to the Word?
Maybe Tiberius, Pilate, Caiaphas, and Herod can’t receive a fresh revelation from God because they presume to hear and speak for God already. After all, they’re in power. Doesn’t that mean that they embody God’s will automatically? If not, well, who cares?
They already have pomp, money, military might, and the weight of religious tradition at their disposal. They don’t need God.
But in the wilderness? In the wilderness, there’s no safety net.
No Plan B. No bank account or security. In the wilderness, life is raw and risky, and our illusions of self-sufficiency fall apart fast.
To locate ourselves at the outskirts of power is to confess our vulnerability in the starkest terms. In the wilderness, we have no choice but to wait and watch as if our lives depend on God showing up. Because they do!
And it’s into such an environment — an environment so far removed from power as to make power laughable — that the word of God comes.
But Luke goes on.
Not only is the wilderness a place that exposes our need for God.
It’s a place that calls us to repentance. “John went into all the region around the Jordan,” Luke tells us, “Proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”
Elsewhere in the Gospels, we read that crowds streamed into the wilderness to heed John’s call. In other words, they left the lives they knew best, and ventured into the unknown to save their hearts through repentance.
Something about the wilderness brought people to their knees.
For us 21st century Christians, though, “sin” and “repentance” are loaded words we try to avoid. Many, particularly, those who grew up in fundamentalist circles, actively dislike the word “sin.” We associate it with paralyzing guilt and eternal hellfire. With fear and self-loathing rather than grace and mercy.
Many of us also distrust the word because we've seen how easily it can be manipulated to justify one moralistic agenda over another.
In some churches, abortion and homosexuality are the big, bad sins, while our rape of this planet and our systemic disregard for the poor are not.
In others, the capital "S" sins include hawkish foreign policy, capital punishment, and corporate greed. Not unloving sex, mind-numbing busyness, and intellectual snobbery.
And yet, Advent begins with an honest, wilderness-style reckoning with sin. We can’t get to the manger unless we go through John, and John is all about repentance. Is it possible that this might become an occasion for relief?
Maybe, if we can get past our baggage and follow John out into the wilderness, we will find comfort in the fact that something more profound and deep is at stake in our souls than "I make mistakes sometimes," or "I have a few issues."
What is sin? Many of us have been taught that sin is "breaking God's laws." Or "missing the mark," as an archer misses his target. Or "committing immoral acts."
These definitions aren't wrong, but they assume that sin is a problem primarily because it angers God. But God's temper is not what's at stake; he's more than capable of managing his own emotions.
Sin is a problem because it kills. It kills us. Why?
Because sin is a refusal to become fully human.
It's anything that interferes with the opening up of our whole hearts to God, to others, to creation, and to ourselves.
Sin is estrangement, disconnection, sterility, disharmony.
It's the slow accumulation of dust, choking the soul.
It's the sludge that slows us down, that says, "Quit. Stop trying. Give up. Change is impossible."
Sin is apathy. Care-less-ness. A frightened resistance to an engaged life.
Sin is the opposite of creativity, the opposite of abundance, the opposite of flourishing. It is a walking death. And it is easier to spot, name, and confess a walking death in the wilderness than it is anywhere else.
Finally, Luke suggests that the wilderness is a place where we can see the landscape whole and participate in God’s great work of levelling inequality and oppression. Quoting the prophet Isaiah, Luke predicts a day when “every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth.”
Unless we’re in the wilderness, it’s hard to see our own privilege, and even harder to imagine giving it up. No one standing on a mountaintop wants the mountain to be flattened. But when we’re wandering in the wilderness, and immense, barren landscapes stretch out before us in every direction, we’re able to see what privileged locations obscure. Suddenly, we feel the rough places beneath our feet.
We experience what it’s like to struggle down twisty, crooked paths.
We glimpse arrogance in the mountains and desolation in the valleys, and we begin to dream God’s dream of a wholly reimagined landscape.
A landscape so smooth and straight, it enables “all flesh” to see the salvation of God.
Where are you located during this Advent season?
How close are you to power, and how open are you to risking the wilderness to hear a word from God?
What might repentance look like for you, here and now? Where is God levelling the ground you stand on, and what will it take for you to participate in that uncomfortable but essential work?
Location location location. The word of the Lord came to John in the wilderness. May it come to us, too.
Like John, may we become brave voices in hard places, preparing the way of the Lord.
Blessings, Bob
Sermon for Advent 2 on Luke 3:1-6.
[I acknowledge the work of Debie Thomas]
In this week’s Gospel, we read that the word of the Lord came to John in the wilderness. Why the wilderness? Why such a barren and desolate setting? If you have any experience in real estate, you know the mantra: “Location location location.” Location is key. The place where we stand, the terrain we occupy, the space from which we speak — these things matter.
I’ve never seen John the Baptist featured in an Advent calendar or a Christmas display, but all four Gospels place him front and centre in Jesus’s origin story. John’s gaunt austerity is the only gateway we have to the swaddling clothes, angel's wings, and fleecy lambs we hold dear each December.
As baffling as it may seem, the holy drama of the season depends on the locust-eating baptizer’s opening act. So again, why the wilderness?
Why does Advent begin in the wilderness?
Our Gospel reading for the week takes pains to position John very carefully in time and space: “In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tiberius,” Luke writes, “when Pontius Pilate was governor of Judea, and Herod was ruler of Galilee, and his brother Philip ruler of the region of Ituraea and Trachonitis, and Lysanias ruler of Abilene, during the high priesthood of Annas and Caiaphas,”
John heard God’s word in the wilderness.
That’s seven seats of wealth, power, and influence in just one sentence.
Seven centres of authority, both political and religious.
Seven Very Important People occupying seven Very Important Positions.
But God’s word doesn’t come to any of them.
Perhaps the first wilderness lesson, then, is a lesson about power.
The Gospel highlights a startling juxtaposition between those who experience God’s speaking presence and those who don’t. In Luke’s account, emperors, governors, rulers, and high priests — the folks who wield power — don’t hear God, but the outsider from the wilderness does.
What is it about power that deafens us to the Word?
Maybe Tiberius, Pilate, Caiaphas, and Herod can’t receive a fresh revelation from God because they presume to hear and speak for God already. After all, they’re in power. Doesn’t that mean that they embody God’s will automatically? If not, well, who cares?
They already have pomp, money, military might, and the weight of religious tradition at their disposal. They don’t need God.
But in the wilderness? In the wilderness, there’s no safety net.
No Plan B. No bank account or security. In the wilderness, life is raw and risky, and our illusions of self-sufficiency fall apart fast.
To locate ourselves at the outskirts of power is to confess our vulnerability in the starkest terms. In the wilderness, we have no choice but to wait and watch as if our lives depend on God showing up. Because they do!
And it’s into such an environment — an environment so far removed from power as to make power laughable — that the word of God comes.
But Luke goes on.
Not only is the wilderness a place that exposes our need for God.
It’s a place that calls us to repentance. “John went into all the region around the Jordan,” Luke tells us, “Proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.”
Elsewhere in the Gospels, we read that crowds streamed into the wilderness to heed John’s call. In other words, they left the lives they knew best, and ventured into the unknown to save their hearts through repentance.
Something about the wilderness brought people to their knees.
For us 21st century Christians, though, “sin” and “repentance” are loaded words we try to avoid. Many, particularly, those who grew up in fundamentalist circles, actively dislike the word “sin.” We associate it with paralyzing guilt and eternal hellfire. With fear and self-loathing rather than grace and mercy.
Many of us also distrust the word because we've seen how easily it can be manipulated to justify one moralistic agenda over another.
In some churches, abortion and homosexuality are the big, bad sins, while our rape of this planet and our systemic disregard for the poor are not.
In others, the capital "S" sins include hawkish foreign policy, capital punishment, and corporate greed. Not unloving sex, mind-numbing busyness, and intellectual snobbery.
And yet, Advent begins with an honest, wilderness-style reckoning with sin. We can’t get to the manger unless we go through John, and John is all about repentance. Is it possible that this might become an occasion for relief?
Maybe, if we can get past our baggage and follow John out into the wilderness, we will find comfort in the fact that something more profound and deep is at stake in our souls than "I make mistakes sometimes," or "I have a few issues."
What is sin? Many of us have been taught that sin is "breaking God's laws." Or "missing the mark," as an archer misses his target. Or "committing immoral acts."
These definitions aren't wrong, but they assume that sin is a problem primarily because it angers God. But God's temper is not what's at stake; he's more than capable of managing his own emotions.
Sin is a problem because it kills. It kills us. Why?
Because sin is a refusal to become fully human.
It's anything that interferes with the opening up of our whole hearts to God, to others, to creation, and to ourselves.
Sin is estrangement, disconnection, sterility, disharmony.
It's the slow accumulation of dust, choking the soul.
It's the sludge that slows us down, that says, "Quit. Stop trying. Give up. Change is impossible."
Sin is apathy. Care-less-ness. A frightened resistance to an engaged life.
Sin is the opposite of creativity, the opposite of abundance, the opposite of flourishing. It is a walking death. And it is easier to spot, name, and confess a walking death in the wilderness than it is anywhere else.
Finally, Luke suggests that the wilderness is a place where we can see the landscape whole and participate in God’s great work of levelling inequality and oppression. Quoting the prophet Isaiah, Luke predicts a day when “every valley shall be filled, and every mountain and hill made low, and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth.”
Unless we’re in the wilderness, it’s hard to see our own privilege, and even harder to imagine giving it up. No one standing on a mountaintop wants the mountain to be flattened. But when we’re wandering in the wilderness, and immense, barren landscapes stretch out before us in every direction, we’re able to see what privileged locations obscure. Suddenly, we feel the rough places beneath our feet.
We experience what it’s like to struggle down twisty, crooked paths.
We glimpse arrogance in the mountains and desolation in the valleys, and we begin to dream God’s dream of a wholly reimagined landscape.
A landscape so smooth and straight, it enables “all flesh” to see the salvation of God.
Where are you located during this Advent season?
How close are you to power, and how open are you to risking the wilderness to hear a word from God?
What might repentance look like for you, here and now? Where is God levelling the ground you stand on, and what will it take for you to participate in that uncomfortable but essential work?
Location location location. The word of the Lord came to John in the wilderness. May it come to us, too.
Like John, may we become brave voices in hard places, preparing the way of the Lord.
Blessings, Bob
From the Minister (September, 16)
Legacy is about helping the dependants of Australian service men and women who have died in the service of our nation. COVID has impacted Legacy’s ability to raise the funds needed for its work.
Our management committee has resolved to send $1000 and now invites you to consider contributing to this. Place your donation in an envelope with ‘LEGACY’ on it and place in the offering bowl. Or, make an electronic donation - the details you need are in the newsletter (see page 7). Thank you for giving this consideration.
Legacy is about helping the dependants of Australian service men and women who have died in the service of our nation. COVID has impacted Legacy’s ability to raise the funds needed for its work.
Our management committee has resolved to send $1000 and now invites you to consider contributing to this. Place your donation in an envelope with ‘LEGACY’ on it and place in the offering bowl. Or, make an electronic donation - the details you need are in the newsletter (see page 7). Thank you for giving this consideration.
Remember our ‘mouse trap’ appeal for Frontier Services? It was for funds to enable Bush Chaplains to get to places over-run with mice and the consequent stress caused by the mice.
A mailing from Frontier Services today begins - We are feeling incredibly grateful for the tremendous support of our donors. We realise that 2021 hasn't been like anyone had planned but because of you, Frontier Services will be placing another six Bush Chaplains in remote areas around Australia.
Blessings, Bob
A mailing from Frontier Services today begins - We are feeling incredibly grateful for the tremendous support of our donors. We realise that 2021 hasn't been like anyone had planned but because of you, Frontier Services will be placing another six Bush Chaplains in remote areas around Australia.
Blessings, Bob
Sir William Turner (1615 – 1693) was an English Sheriff, Lord Mayor and M.P. of London.
He was the third son of John Turner. In 1623 his father bought the Kirkleatham Estate and built Kirkleatham Hall.
He moved to London and became a prosperous woollen-draper. He was elected a Sheriff of London and Lord Mayor of London for 1668–69. He was knighted by Charles II in 1662 in recognition of his public work.
He devoted much of his fortune to establishing a hospital (or Almshouses) in his home village of Kirkleatham.
He died unmarried in 1693. He bequeathed a substantial amount of money to his great nephew, Cholmley Turner, M.P. for Yorkshire, to establish a Free School, which now serves as the local museum.
He cared for orphans
He was the third son of John Turner. In 1623 his father bought the Kirkleatham Estate and built Kirkleatham Hall.
He moved to London and became a prosperous woollen-draper. He was elected a Sheriff of London and Lord Mayor of London for 1668–69. He was knighted by Charles II in 1662 in recognition of his public work.
He devoted much of his fortune to establishing a hospital (or Almshouses) in his home village of Kirkleatham.
He died unmarried in 1693. He bequeathed a substantial amount of money to his great nephew, Cholmley Turner, M.P. for Yorkshire, to establish a Free School, which now serves as the local museum.
He cared for orphans
Here's How to Pray with Someone Who Is Deeply Grieving
How you pray is more important than what you say.
“Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray…”(James 5:13).
Unfortunately, most of us struggle with not knowing how to pray with someone who is grieving. More often than not, you probably feel at a loss for what to say, or about how to pray. That’s why it is important to remember that praying authentically is more important than praying articulately.
Start by praying silently for your friend or loved one. Pray silently for God’s guidance over the situation, that you be guided in your thoughts and actions. You can also pray that God would bring relief, hope, and healing for the other person and for all affected by the tragic event.
Be sensitive to the other person’s belief system and life experiences. This doesn’t mean you need to put your faith “on the shelf.” The goal is to have your own religious and spiritual identity help without hurting the process of forming a relationship and responding to the other person’s needs.
If it seems appropriate, without pressuring the other person, you might also ask them if they would like you to pray for them. If the person you are visiting is amenable to prayer, ask him or her if you can pray together. I’ve found most people welcome prayer regardless of where they are in their faith commitment. However, if the person declines prayer, don’t force it or push it, respect their wishes.
If they say yes, inquire if there is something specific or tangible that the person wishes to have you pray about. Even if the prayer need seems obvious, resist jumping straight into prayer, give a moment of pause so the other person has time to share other potential concerns, too.
Pray what comes naturally and from your heart. It is okay to offer a simple prayer. It’s okay if you muddle your way through your prayer. If you don’t know what to say, then say so in your prayer. It’s likely the person hurting may also feel at a loss for words. God will still listen.
Don’t be tempted to turn your prayer into some mini-sermon. Turning your eyes, and ears, and voices toward God reminds the person who may be suffering that she or he is not alone. You are with them and God is with them.
If someone is concerned about a diagnosis, or a death, or finances, or relationships, or anything else, it’s possible that they are having difficulty connecting with God. If so, reassure them that this isn’t uncommon.
Others may be struggling with anger toward God or questioning their faith. “Forcing” prayer out loud with someone in crisis can actually add to the hurt. If the person you are there to help declines prayer, respect their wishes. You can still pray silently in that moment and beyond.
Thankfully God still hears our prayers and the heart of those who grieve regardless of how we pray or what we say.
Jamie Aten is the founder and executive director of the Humanitarian Disaster Institute and Blanchard Chair of Humanitarian and Disaster Leadership at Wheaton College. Kent Annan is director of Humanitarian and Disaster Leadership at Wheaton College, where he leads an M.A. program as part of the Humanitarian Disaster Institute. From Christianity Today
How you pray is more important than what you say.
“Is anyone among you suffering? Let him pray…”(James 5:13).
Unfortunately, most of us struggle with not knowing how to pray with someone who is grieving. More often than not, you probably feel at a loss for what to say, or about how to pray. That’s why it is important to remember that praying authentically is more important than praying articulately.
Start by praying silently for your friend or loved one. Pray silently for God’s guidance over the situation, that you be guided in your thoughts and actions. You can also pray that God would bring relief, hope, and healing for the other person and for all affected by the tragic event.
Be sensitive to the other person’s belief system and life experiences. This doesn’t mean you need to put your faith “on the shelf.” The goal is to have your own religious and spiritual identity help without hurting the process of forming a relationship and responding to the other person’s needs.
If it seems appropriate, without pressuring the other person, you might also ask them if they would like you to pray for them. If the person you are visiting is amenable to prayer, ask him or her if you can pray together. I’ve found most people welcome prayer regardless of where they are in their faith commitment. However, if the person declines prayer, don’t force it or push it, respect their wishes.
If they say yes, inquire if there is something specific or tangible that the person wishes to have you pray about. Even if the prayer need seems obvious, resist jumping straight into prayer, give a moment of pause so the other person has time to share other potential concerns, too.
Pray what comes naturally and from your heart. It is okay to offer a simple prayer. It’s okay if you muddle your way through your prayer. If you don’t know what to say, then say so in your prayer. It’s likely the person hurting may also feel at a loss for words. God will still listen.
Don’t be tempted to turn your prayer into some mini-sermon. Turning your eyes, and ears, and voices toward God reminds the person who may be suffering that she or he is not alone. You are with them and God is with them.
If someone is concerned about a diagnosis, or a death, or finances, or relationships, or anything else, it’s possible that they are having difficulty connecting with God. If so, reassure them that this isn’t uncommon.
Others may be struggling with anger toward God or questioning their faith. “Forcing” prayer out loud with someone in crisis can actually add to the hurt. If the person you are there to help declines prayer, respect their wishes. You can still pray silently in that moment and beyond.
Thankfully God still hears our prayers and the heart of those who grieve regardless of how we pray or what we say.
Jamie Aten is the founder and executive director of the Humanitarian Disaster Institute and Blanchard Chair of Humanitarian and Disaster Leadership at Wheaton College. Kent Annan is director of Humanitarian and Disaster Leadership at Wheaton College, where he leads an M.A. program as part of the Humanitarian Disaster Institute. From Christianity Today
From the Minister (August, 19)
We are all known for something. This is our ‘reputation’. Some people are known for some good actions. Some people for some negative actions. Some people are known for their family and its legacy. Some people are known for their character. All of us are known for something.
As the Uniting Church in Queensland, we are called to be known as people of love and compassion. That is, we are called to be known by the God who knows us, loves us and reconciles us and the world to himself. Our actions embody this making known of this amazing love of God. In Matthew, we have Jesus asking his disciples the question of who do people say that the Son of Man is? After the disciples give their initial response, Jesus then asks: ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Simon Peter jumps in first and responds that ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God’.
Jesus was well known for his actions and his words. He often refers people beyond his words and his actions towards his ‘Father in Heaven’. In his life, death and resurrection Jesus made known the Creator of the universe, the God who loves every person and the Kingdom of God. This is a Kingdom in which there is no hierarchy of valuing people based on gender, age or ethnicity. Jesus was known for his loving actions, his compassionate care, justice and vision of the Kingdom of God. He was known for the God who knows us and loves us.
The origin of the Uniting Church and its community services has many stories of people being known for their compassionate care and love. One such example of this compassionate care took place just five years after Brisbane opened as a free settlement. In 1847 Rev William Moore took up his post as the first Methodist Minister in Brisbane. Before he held his first church service, before any hymns were sung or sermons delivered, this newly arrived minister conducted his first official duty - a funeral service for a prostitute who had died penniless with no one to mourn her.
The compassion and humility shown by the Rev Moore towards someone who was so harshly judged in nineteenth century society is typical of the character and motivation of the members of the Congregational, Methodist and Presbyterian congregations. In living out Christ’s mission, our forebears served their local communities with love, respect, mercy and justice, recognising the worth and dignity of all people.
We are all known for something. This is our ‘reputation’. Some people are known for some good actions. Some people for some negative actions. Some people are known for their family and its legacy. Some people are known for their character. All of us are known for something.
As the Uniting Church in Queensland, we are called to be known as people of love and compassion. That is, we are called to be known by the God who knows us, loves us and reconciles us and the world to himself. Our actions embody this making known of this amazing love of God. In Matthew, we have Jesus asking his disciples the question of who do people say that the Son of Man is? After the disciples give their initial response, Jesus then asks: ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Simon Peter jumps in first and responds that ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God’.
Jesus was well known for his actions and his words. He often refers people beyond his words and his actions towards his ‘Father in Heaven’. In his life, death and resurrection Jesus made known the Creator of the universe, the God who loves every person and the Kingdom of God. This is a Kingdom in which there is no hierarchy of valuing people based on gender, age or ethnicity. Jesus was known for his loving actions, his compassionate care, justice and vision of the Kingdom of God. He was known for the God who knows us and loves us.
The origin of the Uniting Church and its community services has many stories of people being known for their compassionate care and love. One such example of this compassionate care took place just five years after Brisbane opened as a free settlement. In 1847 Rev William Moore took up his post as the first Methodist Minister in Brisbane. Before he held his first church service, before any hymns were sung or sermons delivered, this newly arrived minister conducted his first official duty - a funeral service for a prostitute who had died penniless with no one to mourn her.
The compassion and humility shown by the Rev Moore towards someone who was so harshly judged in nineteenth century society is typical of the character and motivation of the members of the Congregational, Methodist and Presbyterian congregations. In living out Christ’s mission, our forebears served their local communities with love, respect, mercy and justice, recognising the worth and dignity of all people.
From the Minister (August 13)
Hullo friends!
It will be good to worship face to face on Sunday! However it was good to be able to see those of you who could join us Zoom. There were 24 with us last Sunday which included some who could see us but whom we were not able to see.
This coming Sunday we will Zoom for those not with us, and also live stream the service from the church. We are grateful to those who are working on technology to make our service accessible for all not able to worship in person. If you have friends who would/might like to see our service, look out for the email with the link from Peter - and forward it.
This Sunday’s Gospel is the last in the series on Chapter 6 in John which is very insistent on us focussing on Jesus the bread! Fittingly we will celebrate the Lord’s Supper this Sunday.
The epistle readings in recent weeks have been from Ephesians and they are coming to the ‘pointy end’, where the writer has turned to the practical
consequences of what comes earlier in his letter. From 4:25 he talks about what living the ‘new life’ looks like. His readers, which include us, are invited to be kind, tender-hearted and forgiving towards one other. We are encouraged to switch on the light and allow the love of Christ to shine wherever there is darkness. If you have not read Ephesians recently, I encourage you to do so. There are prayers for each other, and plentiful guides for our living as pilgrim people. Blessings, Bob
Hullo friends!
It will be good to worship face to face on Sunday! However it was good to be able to see those of you who could join us Zoom. There were 24 with us last Sunday which included some who could see us but whom we were not able to see.
This coming Sunday we will Zoom for those not with us, and also live stream the service from the church. We are grateful to those who are working on technology to make our service accessible for all not able to worship in person. If you have friends who would/might like to see our service, look out for the email with the link from Peter - and forward it.
This Sunday’s Gospel is the last in the series on Chapter 6 in John which is very insistent on us focussing on Jesus the bread! Fittingly we will celebrate the Lord’s Supper this Sunday.
The epistle readings in recent weeks have been from Ephesians and they are coming to the ‘pointy end’, where the writer has turned to the practical
consequences of what comes earlier in his letter. From 4:25 he talks about what living the ‘new life’ looks like. His readers, which include us, are invited to be kind, tender-hearted and forgiving towards one other. We are encouraged to switch on the light and allow the love of Christ to shine wherever there is darkness. If you have not read Ephesians recently, I encourage you to do so. There are prayers for each other, and plentiful guides for our living as pilgrim people. Blessings, Bob
From the Minister (August 6)
We can live our life controlled by competition, abuse of power, coercion, unforgiving and taxing expectations, and self-centered gain, influenced by the fear of never being good enough, fast enough, canny enough, or worthwhile.
This is not the Way of Jesus.
A peace-filled life is often related to sitting in a ‘holiday’ mood in a beautiful location. In a life controlled by God’s love, peace comes in a soul focused through the wisdom of the Spirit, a heart for all God’s creation and unity, healthier balanced inner-thoughts, good use of the gifts of intelligence and choices, and actively being ‘controlled’ by love that is so encompassing, it helps us rise above the negativity of life controlled by world demands and expectations.
Shake off the mud of hate, negativity and anger that weighs on your heart.
Turn to the light of Christ that reveals to us how to love each other and ourselves, so that together, we are bearers of the love that can overcome darkness and bring peace to the world. From Words for Worship
The Bible readings for this Sunday - August 8
2 Samuel 18: 5-9, 15, 31-33
5The king gave orders to Joab and Abishai and Ittai, saying, ‘Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom.’ And all the people heard when the king gave orders to all the commanders concerning Absalom.
6 So the army went out into the field against Israel; and the battle was fought in the forest of Ephraim. 7 The men of Israel were defeated there by the servants of David, and the slaughter there was great on that day, twenty thousand men. 8 The battle spread over the face of all the country; and the forest claimed more victims that day than the sword.
9 Absalom happened to meet the servants of David. Absalom was riding on his mule, and the mule went under the thick branches of a great oak. His head caught fast in the oak, and he was left hanging between heaven and earth, while the mule that was under him went on.
15 And ten young men, Joab’s armour-bearers, surrounded Absalom and struck him, and killed him.
31 Then the Cushite came; and the Cushite said, ‘Good tidings for my lord the king! For the LORD has vindicated you this day, delivering you from the power of all who rose up against you.’ 32 The king said to the Cushite, ‘Is it well with the young man Absalom?’ The Cushite answered, ‘May the enemies of my lord the king, and all who rise up to do you harm, be like that young man.’
David Mourns for Absalom
33 The king was deeply moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept; and as he went, he said, ‘O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would that I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!’
John 6: 35, 41-51
Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty’.
41 Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, ‘I am the bread that came down from heaven”?’
43 Jesus answered them, ‘Do not complain among yourselves. 44 No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. 45 It is written in the prophets, “And they shall all be taught by God.” Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.
46 Not that anyone has seen the Fa-ther except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. 47 Very truly, I tell you, who-ever believes has eternal life.
48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Who-ever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’
Ephesians 4:25-32
25 Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbour, for we are all members of one body. 26 ‘In your anger do not sin’: do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, 27 and do not give the devil a foothold. 28 Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands, that they may have something to share with those in need.
29 Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. 30 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemp-tion. 31 Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. 32 Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
We can live our life controlled by competition, abuse of power, coercion, unforgiving and taxing expectations, and self-centered gain, influenced by the fear of never being good enough, fast enough, canny enough, or worthwhile.
This is not the Way of Jesus.
A peace-filled life is often related to sitting in a ‘holiday’ mood in a beautiful location. In a life controlled by God’s love, peace comes in a soul focused through the wisdom of the Spirit, a heart for all God’s creation and unity, healthier balanced inner-thoughts, good use of the gifts of intelligence and choices, and actively being ‘controlled’ by love that is so encompassing, it helps us rise above the negativity of life controlled by world demands and expectations.
Shake off the mud of hate, negativity and anger that weighs on your heart.
Turn to the light of Christ that reveals to us how to love each other and ourselves, so that together, we are bearers of the love that can overcome darkness and bring peace to the world. From Words for Worship
The Bible readings for this Sunday - August 8
2 Samuel 18: 5-9, 15, 31-33
5The king gave orders to Joab and Abishai and Ittai, saying, ‘Deal gently for my sake with the young man Absalom.’ And all the people heard when the king gave orders to all the commanders concerning Absalom.
6 So the army went out into the field against Israel; and the battle was fought in the forest of Ephraim. 7 The men of Israel were defeated there by the servants of David, and the slaughter there was great on that day, twenty thousand men. 8 The battle spread over the face of all the country; and the forest claimed more victims that day than the sword.
9 Absalom happened to meet the servants of David. Absalom was riding on his mule, and the mule went under the thick branches of a great oak. His head caught fast in the oak, and he was left hanging between heaven and earth, while the mule that was under him went on.
15 And ten young men, Joab’s armour-bearers, surrounded Absalom and struck him, and killed him.
31 Then the Cushite came; and the Cushite said, ‘Good tidings for my lord the king! For the LORD has vindicated you this day, delivering you from the power of all who rose up against you.’ 32 The king said to the Cushite, ‘Is it well with the young man Absalom?’ The Cushite answered, ‘May the enemies of my lord the king, and all who rise up to do you harm, be like that young man.’
David Mourns for Absalom
33 The king was deeply moved, and went up to the chamber over the gate, and wept; and as he went, he said, ‘O my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom! Would that I had died instead of you, O Absalom, my son, my son!’
John 6: 35, 41-51
Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty’.
41 Then the Jews began to complain about him because he said, ‘I am the bread that came down from heaven”?’
43 Jesus answered them, ‘Do not complain among yourselves. 44 No one can come to me unless drawn by the Father who sent me; and I will raise that person up on the last day. 45 It is written in the prophets, “And they shall all be taught by God.” Everyone who has heard and learned from the Father comes to me.
46 Not that anyone has seen the Fa-ther except the one who is from God; he has seen the Father. 47 Very truly, I tell you, who-ever believes has eternal life.
48 I am the bread of life. 49 Your ancestors ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. 50 This is the bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Who-ever eats of this bread will live for ever; and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh.’
Ephesians 4:25-32
25 Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbour, for we are all members of one body. 26 ‘In your anger do not sin’: do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, 27 and do not give the devil a foothold. 28 Anyone who has been stealing must steal no longer, but must work, doing something useful with their own hands, that they may have something to share with those in need.
29 Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. 30 And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, with whom you were sealed for the day of redemp-tion. 31 Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. 32 Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.
From the Minister (July 30)
Hiroshima Day
An atomic bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945.
More than 60 000 people died.
Two days late a second bomb was dropped on Nagasaki.
Hiroshima Day
An atomic bomb was dropped on the Japanese city of Hiroshima on 6 August 1945.
More than 60 000 people died.
Two days late a second bomb was dropped on Nagasaki.
|
The Hiroshima Peace Memorial was the only structure left standing in the area where the first atomic bomb exploded. Through the efforts of many people, it has been preserved in the same state as it was immediately after the bombing. The Children's Peace Monument is a monument to peace commemorating Sadako Sasaki and the thousands of child victims of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima. Sadako Sasaki (1943 – 1955) was a Japanese girl who became a victim of the Atomic bombings of Hiroshima when she was two years old. Though severely irradiated, she survived for another ten years. She is remembered in the story of the more than one thousand origami cranes she folded before her death. Sadako believed folding 1000 origami cranes allowed a wish to be granted. Sadako and her family and friends folded cranes from any scrap of paper they could find. Many, many colourful origami cranes folded in memory of Sadako and as a plea for peace have been placed under the Children’s Peace Monument. |
We remember the victims of the atomic bombing
of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945
and pray for an end to the proliferation
of nuclear weapons.
of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945
and pray for an end to the proliferation
of nuclear weapons.
From the Minister
A Discipleship Thought (Sunday, July 25)
Jesus offered abundant food, feeding a crowd who hungered for hope and new ways of living. Through blessing their bread and fish, and blessing the space between them, a group of strangers, unknown to each other, ate together as a family of God.
Paul reminds the church in Ephesus that in Christ they belong to heaven and earth, to a holy space beyond their knowing, that meets us in this very present moment. When Christ’s love finds a home in our hearts, there is an abundance of wisdom that will feed and nourish our everyday needs beyond our understanding.
Just as the hungry crowd was filled and satiated, and connected as if a family, so will we be satisfied in our life, connect with each other, welcome, recognise and support each other as Christ calls us to do, if we allow the nature of God to dwell in our hearts.
So much more than we can ever understand unfolds before us as we live each day with Christ central in our hearts.
Writing about this week’s gospel reading (John 6:1-14), David Steele wrote:
‘…Jesus took his fish and bread;
with it not ten or twenty,
but five thousand folk were fed.
But what he had was plenty.
From this I have come to understand
What cannot be denied:
A little gift in Jesus’ hand
Is vastly multiplied.
From the Minister
Ephesians 2:11-22 is one of the readings for Sunday, July 18.
In it the church is described as the dwelling place of God, the writer suggesting that God takes up residence among us.
What does this mean and how can we present the church and our community of faith as worthy of that designation?
At the core of being God’s home is the idea of peace. We are the dwelling place of God because, seeking peace, we have broken down the walls that divide people. We have stressed inclusion and hospitality. We ask ourselves who has a place among us and who is left out?
What can we do, as a worshiping congregation to show our willingness to include, to invite, to make welcome those whom society has no room for, those who don’t seem to matter? And if we aren’t sure who these are, then perhaps our prayers ought to include eyes to see as Jesus sees including the wisdom to see whom we are excluding, even if inadvertently.
Do we make room for those who are not like us in some ways and yet very much like us in the ways that matter?
To claim Christ as our peace doesn’t just mean we get along with those on the inside; it also means we reach out to find community with those outside our walls standing in solidarity with those who are abused, those who are suffering, and those who are neglected. We also stand against racism and the injustice of prejudice and hate.
Recognising that we are a dwelling place for God means that we take up the causes that God, through the prophets, has stressed through the centuries. What walls are you going to take down?
What divisions do you pray against, calling upon the power of the indwelling God to strengthen you for the task of dismantling the systems and structures that oppress God’s people?
Maybe this act of worship is a call to discernment, an invitation for God to give God’s guidance in how the church will move out into the world as disciples of Jesus Christ ready to bring transformation.
We are called to be peacemakers, which isn’t about sitting back and feeling good about ourselves. It is about walking where Christ walked - in and among the people. Blessings, Bob
A Discipleship Thought (Sunday, July 25)
Jesus offered abundant food, feeding a crowd who hungered for hope and new ways of living. Through blessing their bread and fish, and blessing the space between them, a group of strangers, unknown to each other, ate together as a family of God.
Paul reminds the church in Ephesus that in Christ they belong to heaven and earth, to a holy space beyond their knowing, that meets us in this very present moment. When Christ’s love finds a home in our hearts, there is an abundance of wisdom that will feed and nourish our everyday needs beyond our understanding.
Just as the hungry crowd was filled and satiated, and connected as if a family, so will we be satisfied in our life, connect with each other, welcome, recognise and support each other as Christ calls us to do, if we allow the nature of God to dwell in our hearts.
So much more than we can ever understand unfolds before us as we live each day with Christ central in our hearts.
Writing about this week’s gospel reading (John 6:1-14), David Steele wrote:
‘…Jesus took his fish and bread;
with it not ten or twenty,
but five thousand folk were fed.
But what he had was plenty.
From this I have come to understand
What cannot be denied:
A little gift in Jesus’ hand
Is vastly multiplied.
From the Minister
Ephesians 2:11-22 is one of the readings for Sunday, July 18.
In it the church is described as the dwelling place of God, the writer suggesting that God takes up residence among us.
What does this mean and how can we present the church and our community of faith as worthy of that designation?
At the core of being God’s home is the idea of peace. We are the dwelling place of God because, seeking peace, we have broken down the walls that divide people. We have stressed inclusion and hospitality. We ask ourselves who has a place among us and who is left out?
What can we do, as a worshiping congregation to show our willingness to include, to invite, to make welcome those whom society has no room for, those who don’t seem to matter? And if we aren’t sure who these are, then perhaps our prayers ought to include eyes to see as Jesus sees including the wisdom to see whom we are excluding, even if inadvertently.
Do we make room for those who are not like us in some ways and yet very much like us in the ways that matter?
To claim Christ as our peace doesn’t just mean we get along with those on the inside; it also means we reach out to find community with those outside our walls standing in solidarity with those who are abused, those who are suffering, and those who are neglected. We also stand against racism and the injustice of prejudice and hate.
Recognising that we are a dwelling place for God means that we take up the causes that God, through the prophets, has stressed through the centuries. What walls are you going to take down?
What divisions do you pray against, calling upon the power of the indwelling God to strengthen you for the task of dismantling the systems and structures that oppress God’s people?
Maybe this act of worship is a call to discernment, an invitation for God to give God’s guidance in how the church will move out into the world as disciples of Jesus Christ ready to bring transformation.
We are called to be peacemakers, which isn’t about sitting back and feeling good about ourselves. It is about walking where Christ walked - in and among the people. Blessings, Bob
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