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Chocolate Teapots (5th September 2010)

Luke 14:25-33

Okay, there is a cultural moment here because when Jesus talks about hating family, he doesn't mean hate. Surely.

Culturally family was the safe zone. It was where your roots, foundations, security and future all lay. Families stayed together. It was the place called home in ever full sense you can imagine. So, Jesus being Jesus, turns round and tells everyone they ought to hate all that. Hate is a very strong word, or so my mother always told me when I was describing my relationship with my sister. Of course Jesus didn't exactly have a good relationship with his family at times though I suspect he didn't build a kingdom value on that personal state of affairs.

Perhaps what Jesus is meaning is that what was once your ground of being now ought to be the love and justice of God's way. That the realm of love means not being parochial in that love, that the support structure of love is not only in one individual family but broader, wider and deeper. The horizons are further away with the Reign of God. The family is bigger. That each person is your family and your compassion and justice and support can't be focused only on those you love best but in the whole community.

But even then, hate is still a strong word to use...

Greenbelt

It is the big Greenbelt weekend. We're off tomorrow evening and going to take in the fabulous hotch-potch of John Bell, Richard Rohr, Maggie Dawn, Kester Brewin, The Rev, Mark Yaconelli, Peter Tatchell and a whole lot of others.

This is church, full stop. This is community, engagement, challenging, questioning, laughing, culture, art, ideas, discussion, music, music, music, friends, books, creativity. As I said: church. I only go once a year.

The thing with the programme that was on the other night about the Church of Scotland being around only till 2033 is that of course that isn't true. The institution may only last that long but church (see definition above) will always be there because the things the church does (the following of Jesus bit of church) makes us human: caring, justice, humanity, welcoming etc. and all you need to do these things is a big field with 20,000 of your closest friends celebrating at a festival together. Obviously you don't even need these things. You don't need much. Church doesn't need much. Let's be that kind of church.

When stories come true

I was up in Luss with our student minister today to experience another congregation who is growing a story (and also was able to say hello to some guys who were from Clydebank working up there today who remember me from being school chaplain. Impressed? I was). The story of Luss began a whole lot earlier than our own story. Theirs started around 1500 years ago with St Kessog and this year they've been particularly engaged in creating ways for that story to live today and inform today. They also have the Rossdhu Book or Hours which was written 1469 for Elizabeth Dunbar of Rossdhu House on Loch Lomond in Scotland but now owned by New Zealand and on loan from them. It's unique. Go and see it.

I was talking to Dane, the minister there, who reminded me of something George McLeod (Founder of Iona Community) said that the more you tell a story the more likely it is to come true. In other words we grow into stories of faith rather than out of them and congregations who are living their story grow in faith. 

It is just a reminder, yet again, of how church is about being something. It's the step beyond just existing and moves into living, beyond just keeping the church roof water tight but taking everything as an opportunity for a new chapter to break through. I am utterly convinced this is where the life is and it is what people in the community see as being a church: connecting faith and values with culture and reality and enjoying the new relationships and surprises that brings.

Chocolate Teapots (Aug 29th 2010)

Luke 14:1-14

See tables, they're a social nightmare. You can never really get it right. And what's worse is that tables are always places of Realm-making, and particularly God's Realm. It is when we eat together, God gets us involved in some of heaven's greatest moments. From bread and wine to tax-collectors, Pharisee's homes to wedding banquets: it's a onslaught of grace.

And here again we have the comic relief of a parable that laughs at us. You can imagine everyone charging for the head of the table to sit beside the host and after Jesus words, you can imagine them all charging for the lower seats in a moment of false humility in order to be lifted up from there. Of course it is comical. Heaven does that. A lot. 

Perhaps there is no best seat. Perhaps the closer you are to the host the further you are to the people God would like us to care for most. Tables are about opening your eyes to those who eat with you and sharing what you have. Table are about offering people something from your plate, be that food or a story or a word of support or a moment of listening. That's the only place you find heaven: in the relationship and not in the order of placing people. Bishops can eat with monarchs all they like, but the best food and stories are being shared further down the table where people have taken off their jackets, eating with their fingers and meeting others just as they are.

BOX

I'm looking for someone in the congregation who may be able to make me a wooden box about 1 metre by 1 metre by 1 metre. Anyone know who I could go to...? We'll supply all the stuff.

The idea is to use it each Sunday at the Sunday School. We'll fill it with these annoying polystyrene beads and hide stuff in it. Each week will be a different object that will link to the theme.

It's a fairly basic idea but interactive enough to get people thinking as soon as they come into the space. Some weeks the object might be partly revealed; other weeks there might be just a question or a clue or just a bible turned up at the right page or there could be a wee gift for everyone like a luck dip and then whatever you get tells you your part to play in retelling the story that week. Or perhaps when we get to a shorter season like Advent or Lent each week the object is added to a scene or montage that builds up over the season. Or even for a couple of weeks each week is just one piece of a giant jigsaw that is only complete at the end.

We could repaint it together in the appropriate colours in each season, or/and write names of people we want to think of over the season so we are always reminded. Hand prints and names always work and we could do some urban art painting of them. 

We could use the box itself as a stable at Christmas, a hill during Holy Week and an empty cave at Easter.

Or it could be painted in chalkboard paint and each week a new message written on it or it could be used as a way of doing prayer together, writing ideas and situations all over it. Or a way of letting children learn that weeks news of what's happening.

Or all the above.

But I'm sure there are other ways we could use the box and I know you all have a few. Care to suggest them here?

Walking in slippers

Hey, we've got a bright newly varnished hall floor now. Lovely. And thanks to everyone who spent last evening dusting, cleaning, mopping, wiping, sweeping, hoovering, laughing, blethering, gossiping, rubbing, pouring, drying, buffing etc etc etc-ing. Looks great.

So only slippers allowed from now one. Come along just as you are in your slippers, without all the fancy stuff to hide behind of sharp shoes and big hats, and feel at home, comfortable. This is where you belong...

Dare we...

A large box is placed in the sanctuary filled with scrap paper or other packing stuff. Buried in the box is a Bible, a Cross and Bread and Wine. With each stanza the appropriate symbol is dramatically removed to the communion table with packing spilling everywhere. On the box is a sign that reads: Dare we Believe. The box is removed during the last stanza leaving the symbols behind.


These things are more dangerous than we imagine
more powerful that we thought possible

The Word of life
that changes us:
a boy who shepherded sheep
trusting the word of life that turned him into a giant slayer;
an old retired octogenarian
who became a father of stars and sandgrains;
a young handmaid of God
conceiving the saviour of life.

These things are more dangerous than we imagine
more powerful that we thought possible

The cross
that breaks the world
and nations have been toppled
because of a man who would not stop loving
who would not pull back
but went to death for the sake of others
and calls us to follow.
Presidents fear most those who trust a love like that,
for they are change-makers.

These things are more dangerous than we imagine
more powerful that we thought possible

The bread and wine
that speaks of justice
beyond what the world imagines
and says: This is the world we pray for
where all are fed and no one is thirsty
and asks us to re-member
to put back together what is broken
and people have dared to break bread
in defiance of the powers of the moment
and each time a new world breaks open.

These things are more dangerous than we imagine
more powerful that we thought possible

There is nothing pedestrian here
nothing that ought to be beautified
polished or kept in the hands of only the ordained.
These symbols of faith
are the very power of faith
so says David, Abraham and Mary
so says the witnesses of the crucifixion
so says those who dare break bread in Iran, Vietnam and North Korea
giving themselves over to the power that even the wind and sea obey

These things are more dangerous than we imagine
more powerful that we thought possible

dare we
believe

The Perfect Storm

We're still off-lectionary this week, taking our waders into the perfect storm and hope Jesus might have a word to say to it. Here's a gathering scene-setting thing, still to be completed.

It was the perfect night
the moon pulled itself from behind the tired clouds
emptied of their wrath
and stretched it’s silvered pathway across us
like some band of light
leading us to the shore

and we had to blink a little
and steady ourselves
for but a minute ago
all the anger of heaven was raining on us
and a great claw of sea clutched our boat
in a split of water
debating which way to let us fall

but now the perfect calm
after the perfect storm
soothed by a word
with an edge we had not yet heard
made flesh
among us
between the wreckage of ropes and faith

Tarred with the same brush

If this world ever wants peace then people who perceive themselves to be enemies really need to talk and get to know each others names. And often when that happens, and people are called their names, and remember whether they take milk or sugar with their coffee, they become human, real people with whom you can have a conversation and begin to grow dreams together. It really ought not to be so surprising what common ground there is between people of faith. We have a great deal in common about how we relate to people and the world. Indeed Jesus said as he was talking to the scribes one afternoon that the differences were simply commentary. It strikes me this ought to be the higher way, the more 'Christian' way to speak about the centre of our faith more often of loving neighbour, but talk to our neighbour about it, get to know our neighbour's name and habits as we share tea (milk and sugar?) on common ground. So why is it we rather tar everyone with the same extremist brush and keep them enemies? 

The too-ing and fro-ing of whether or not a Mosque should be built close to Ground Zero has put all believers in the spotlight. The question this story asks of us is: do we have a faith of compassion, generosity and grace? Do we have a faith  that does as Jesus did and spoke to the individual (the Syro-Phoenician Woman, Zacchaeus etc) and found both sides of the divides were moved closer because they got to know each other? Has this news story shown us that the populist idea of Christianity has yet again revealed itself as a faith that is reluctant to work towards peace because we have not bothered to get to know our neighbour, let alone begun to love them?

Chocolate Teapots (August 22nd 2010)

Luke 13:10-17

What is it about doing something so obviously obvious that no one gets it? Here's Jesus responding to need in love with grace etc and only the little people get it. The authorities have apoplexy.

Authorities only have power (and thus weak hearts) because they make the rules. Following Jesus doesn't have rules, expect the two Jesus offered: love God, love neighbour. And the more rules you have the further from following Jesus you end up being and the closer to Christianity you become because Christianity it becoming more and more obsessed by rules of what you can and can't do which kills the intuition to respond to people in love with grace etc. I know my own denomination seems to be moving that way. It used to be a broad minded church (and I think still generally is) where people were allowed to respond to the faith freely and lovingly with grace always in tow based on their own conscience, but now it is becoming more obsessed, or at least one wing of it is, with what you are and aren't allowed to do, with discipline, with blanket statements about groups of people. 

Just go and love your neighbour. It really is as simple and as difficult as that and as always, those who don't have any authority to lose are best at it. This Faith doesn't suit the 'Suits'. Following Jesus isn't for those who wish crowns or degrees or even 'Revs' in from of their names. They can have their Christianity. If you've got nothing to lose, in other words if you've got your feet firmly on the ground already rather than on some career ladder or high church appointment then you lose the paranoia of keeping everyone in control with a theology you need to understand but find you love neighbour a lot easier.