"Unity in Community" a service for 13 August 2012

Knox Church Youth Group participates in the preparation and leadership of this service.

Welcome

Kia noho a Ihowa ki a koutou. May God be with you:

Ma Ihowa koe e manaaki. May God bless you.

Introit “Deep Peace” (Gaelic Blessing) music by John Rutter

Call to Worship  (from Seasons of the Spirit)

Mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, family and friends,

Christ Jesus makes us one.

Young and old, liberal and conservative, gay and straight,

Christ Jesus makes us one.

Soldier and pacifist, secular and religious, sinner and saint,

Christ Jesus makes us one.

Let us worship God who calls us into unity.

Let us worship God.

Hymn

  “We are many, we are one”

Words and music © Colin Gibson Faith forever singing 67.

Prayer “Turning Aside to See” from If Darwin Prayed by Bruce Sanguin (2010)

Words of Assurance

E te whanau, we are gathered in all our diversity within the richness of God – each of us is valued, each of us has a place to stand for we are God’s beloved people.

Thanks be to God.

The Peace (In NZ Sign Language and Maori)

Kia tau tonu te rangimarie o te Ariki ki a koutou;

(The Peace of Christ be with you all)

A ki a koe ano hoki (And also with you)

we exchange a sign of peace with each other

The Anthem “Blessed are the men who fear him, they ever walk in the ways of peace.” music by Felix Mendelssohn

With the younger members  “The kiss that missed” by David Melling (2002)

Hymn "Let our love shine out through the day and in the darkness"

            Words and music © Colin Gibson Hope is our Song 88

Blessing of the younger members

Minister:  We send you out to learn and explore together

Congregation:        God is with you

Children:                And also with you

The Gospel Reading John 6:35, 41-44a
            This is the Gospel of Jesus Christ:

Praise to Christ the Word.

Introduction

Don’t complain amongst yourselves, says Jesus.  Easy to say – harder to live out.  Disagreements and destructive conflict have always been part of the church – it almost seems a non-negotiable for human community.  And yet, coming through all the New Testament writings is this promise that it doesn’t have to be that way.  Centring our lives on Jesus will make a difference in our everyday lives.  This morning, I invite you to think about how your life is different, because you follow Jesus.  In particular how do you deal with different perspectives, different views, different understandings of what it means to be human. Do you live with curiosity and delight within the differences – or do you think that you are always right and other people’s point of view is never quite up to your standard?

The Epistle reading for today – which the youth group will help us hear in various ways – is the second part of a chapter that is organised around ‘before’ and ‘after’ – before you knew Jesus you lived one way – but... after.. it can and will be different. The writer to the church in Ephesus reminds the people – and reminds us today – that Jesus has shown us the way to live in God – a way in which our differences don’t have to be dividers – rather they can enrich our life together.

The issue in Ephesians is about two groups Jews and Gentiles – but the same could be said for people with different theological opinions, people from different cultural backgrounds, people with different perspectives  –

The Epistle Reading Ephesians 2:11-22

            Hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church:

            Thanks be to God.

Hymn  “Gentle God”

Words © Shirley Murray Music © Jillian Bray Alleluia Aotearoa 44

Community Testimony  (using material from the Knox Church Youth Group and Seasons of the Spirit  for July 22, 2012)

Older Person 1

It would seem not that big a deal, but it was so hurtful to me. After all, I started our soup kitchen, it was my idea and I spent a full year just trying to convince other members of the church that it was something we should do. I know where every donated plate came from and every face who comes to our door for food. And now, just because I can’t get around as well as I used to, they bring someone else in! To run everything, can you believe that? I know that I shouldn’t be so upset, but I worked so hard to build this ministry. I wish I didn’t, but I find myself resenting a church that would so carelessly ask me to step aside in favour of someone else doing this work.

Youth Group Person 1

It was my first day at my new school.  I didn’t know anyone, and I think this was the first time I had ever been in that position.  It felt pretty lonely walking into the auditorium first thing on Monday morning and feeling like I was the ONLY person who didn’t have someone to hang out with.  I didn’t know where to sit, and because I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what I was doing, I just went over to the closest chair and put my bag on it, trying to look relaxed.  I then noticed the group of people sitting beside my chair.  They all seemed to go quiet and it felt like everyone was staring at me.  I tried to smile and say hi, but one of the girls interrupted me before I could finish, saying, “You can’t sit here, these seats are reserved for US!”  And then she shoved my bag off the chair and onto the ground.

They walk to the chapel corner of the church and turn their backs on the congregation

Letter Writer

Christ is our peace – making both Jews and Gentiles into one group. In Christ’s body the barrier of hatred that divided us is broken down.

Older Person 2

I am a soldier. My father was a soldier, my brothers and my sister are both in service, and I hope that my children will someday serve in the military, too. These days, that is not a popular statement. I know that there are people in my church that think the military is evil, that we are all angry and ignorant and that I should have never enlisted. I respect their right to believe that, even if I don’t agree. But what I wish we could talk about is how we can wage peace. I am ready to disagree and talk about it, but how can we hope for peace in other places when we can’t even find peace at our church?

Youth Group Person 2

Friday nights are always the night my older sister and I end up at my mum’s boyfriend’s house.  He has three boys and we are expected to hang out with them, even though I don’t like them much and I hate going there.  Lately the boys have been daring my sister and me to make random phone-calls to people and then hang up on them.  They think it’s really funny, and my sister does too but I always feel really guilty especially when it’s late and we wake someone up.  Well, last Friday night I decided I wasn’t going to do it anymore.  When it was clear I was serious about it, the boys were really cruel to me and said some pretty awful things.  I felt really betrayed when my sister ganged up on me too.  But I just couldn’t do what they wanted me to do. 

They walk to the main entrance corner of the church and turn their backs on the congregation

Letter Writer

Christ created one new person out of the two groups, making peace. By the cross, Christ reconciled them both - as one body to God, which ended the hostility to God.

Older Person 3

My church cast me out. I thought that the hard part was going to be coming out to my friends and family and letting people know that I am gay, but that was nothing compared to what I heard at my church. How could people of God make such horrible accusations – that I am unfit? That my love is a sin? That God created me for love and then forbids me to live it out? I couldn’t stand to be amidst such hypocrites, so I left the church for good. I hate that I feel closer to God when I am away from the church, but I don’t know how to bring myself back.

Youth Group Person 3

My parents have always encouraged me to try lots of hobbies and sports and stuff like that, and I guess as a result I’m pretty sporty.  I really love being outside and have always enjoyed staying fit.  I don’t really eat much junk-food either cos it feels pretty disgusting when you are trying to eat right and look after your body.  It had never really been an issue until I went to this new school and there’s this group of girls in my class who just won’t leave me alone.  They always make comments about what I’m eating for lunch and talk about what I’m wearing as if I’m some kind of freak.  Just cos I’m wearing sneakers and trackies and don’t like McDonalds?

They walk to another corner of the church and turn their backs on the congregation

Letter Writer

When Jesus came, he announced the good news of peace to you who were far away from God and to those who were near. We both have access to God through Christ by the one Spirit.

Older Person 4

There is nothing good I can say about the church down the street. The way they interpret scripture, the way they pick and choose what they are going to believe, the way that they judge and cast out and humiliate. That is not the Gospel. That is not what Jesus intended. It’s hard for me to say, but sometimes I am embarrassed to be a Christian alongside those people. They are not members of a Church that I know.

Youth Group Person 4

Our family has always used what some people call “alternative medicine”.   I never really thought about it much, since it was just what our family did, until one day I got into an argument with my friend about it.  He said that my family was stupid for using alternatives to “real medicine” and there was no scientific proof to say that any of it worked.  I said that just because he didn’t believe in it didn’t mean others couldn’t.  But he wouldn’t listen to me, or didn’t want to listen to me cos he kept on saying anything that wasn’t prescribed by a doctor – a “real” doctor – was just “witch-doctor herbs” and so maybe we should go back to mumbo-jumbo land, where we came from.

They walk to the final corner of the church and turn their backs on the congregation

Letter writer

But you are all members of God’s family.  We are being built together, like a house that has strong and firm foundations; and each person is like a brick, with Jesus Christ as the cornerstone that keeps all the other bricks from falling in on each other. Together, we all build the house, we are each important and together we make a beautiful dwelling place for God.

            Hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church:

            Thanks be to God.

Hymn  “Love is your way, love is your nature”

Words Shirley Erena Murray  Music Per Harling. Hope is our Song 95

Prayer: Pax Christos by Bruce Sanguin from If Darwin Prayed

Prayers for Others and Ourselves (Using material and ideas from Seasons of the Spirit for 22 July 2012)

Minister and Youth Group leader walk to the middle of the centre aisle

Minister

But now you are no longer strangers and aliens. Rather you are fellow citizens with God’s people, and you belong to God’s household with Christ Jesus as the cornerstone.

Minister hands Youth Group leader the ribbon.  While keeping hold of one end of the ribbon and following Youth Group Leader down the aisle, Minister moves to the steps of the sanctuary. 

Youth Group Leader takes the ribbon to the readers at the first corner who turn to face her.  She hands the ribbon – or wraps it around the wrists of the readers as Minister leads the first part of the prayer. 

We pray for the conflict in our families, our church and our community and for those who carry hurts which linger below the surface. For the small things that go unnoticed, for the people casually cast aside, and for our own prideful failings.

May we become encouragers working with the Spirit to bring about the new thing God is doing in our midst.

            God in your grace, God in your mercy,

 turn us to you to transform the world.

Youth Group Leader walks to readers at second corner who turn to face her.  She hands them part of the ribbon.

We pray for conflict in our world, where political opinions and social beliefs test our relationships.   We seek wisdom to work together with people with whom we disagree; always trying to see the uniqueness of each member of God’s creation as we work for true and lasting peace.

            God in your grace, God in your mercy,

 turn us to you to transform the world.

Youth Group Leader walks to readers at third corner, who turn to face her. She hands them part of the ribbon.

We pray for the times the church has excluded those who most need it, and for the conflicts that hold us back from embracing those whose needs are different from ours.

May we be wise agents of God’s change.

            God in your grace, God in your mercy,

 turn us to you to transform the world.

Youth Group Leader walks to readers at fourth corner, who turn to face her. She hands them part of the ribbon.

Holy and wise God, we know you have created all people in your image, even those with whom we disagree. May we address the barriers that keep us from being a community with true and lasting vision, and may we have patience, strength and guidance to live our lives as Jesus taught us.   In whose name we pray, Amen

The worship space will now be surrounded by the ribbon and held by each of the representatives, expanding the circle of community.

Still holding the ribbon, Minister invites people to stand

Affirmation of Faith: We are not alone, we live in God’s world

 (The United Church of Canada)

Minister places the ribbon on the floor – as do the people who are holding the ribbon.  During the singing of the hymn, the people from the perimeter return to their seats in the congregation.

Hymn  “Where mountains rise to open skies”

Words © Shirley Murray Tune: Dunedin by Vernon Griffiths Alleluia Aotearoa 155

Offering and Dedication

We bring our gifts in the confident knowledge that we are members of God’s household, built on Christ Jesus.   These we now offer for the common good so that all may know they are no longer strangers or aliens but embraced as our sisters and brothers for whom we care.  In the name of Christ we pray.  Amen

Notices and Commissioning  

Let us go as a community united in Christ’s love for each of us – being the dwelling place of God.  Go in peace. we go in the name of Christ.

The Benediction  The blessing of God: Life-giver, Love-maker and Pain-bearer, be with you all, now and always.  Amen.

Sung Blessing      "Let us go in your peace"

Words © Shirley Murray Music© Jillian Bray Hope is our Song 89

 

Sermon for 5 August 2012 - with Sandra Turner

Readings: Ruth 1:3-10; “The Journey” by Mary Oliver

When the road runs out … when the signposts end … we’ve all been there, haven’t we, one time or another – on the very edge of life, with shrivelled options, looking down into a gaping chasm of emptiness, considering the deathly option as our only alternative; desperate for hope and yet, struggling to find any reason to keep going.  

The Book of Ruth, poised as it is within the Christian Bible, immediately after the appalling violence against women found in the book of Judges, encourages our vulnerable selves into conversation.   This “deceptively simple narrative” of “a poor, widowed foreigner” who “becomes the wife of a respected man from Bethlehem and the great-grand-mother of King David”^[1]

has been read and interpreted in many different ways. Today Sandra and I invite it into conversation with all of us, who stand at the edges of life, wondering whether we can make life-giving sense out of our precipice-poised death-dealing experiences. 

The stories found in this little book – stories of Ruth, Orpah and Naomi invite us to consider how new possibilities can emerge out of difficult and restrictive life-choices.  Decisions, which in the circumstances we might denigrate as only ‘good enough’, can be just that – good enough to be redemptive and transformative.  

So, first….My name is Ruth and this is the story told of me

But Naomi said [to us], ‘Turn back, my daughters, why will you go with me? Do I still have sons in my womb that they may become your husbands? …Would you then refrain from marrying? No, my daughters, it has been far more bitter for me than for you, because the hand of the Lord has turned against me.’ Then they wept aloud again.  Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clung to her. [Ruth 1: 11, 13b-14]

This is how I tell it:  I’d gone into marriage without thinking.  My parents had pointed out the dangers of marrying a refugee, a foreigner. Of course, for my father, it was a business contract - bringing him significant advantage but, even he, recognized the risks.  “When life gets better, when the famine disappears, they'll return to their people, their homeland”, my father warned. “You could lose everything you’ve ever known.”  But, I was excited.  Mahlon’s foreignness intrigued me.  He opened up the possibility there was more to life than I had ever considered.    But, my mother, well, although she knew her opinion counted for nothing, she was worried.   She knew the insecurity of my future. “You'll end up in a place you don't know, with people you can’t trust.  All those foreign influences - their foreign god - it won't do you any good”, she predicted. But, as a woman, did I really have a choice?

And yet, it seemed like a great adventure.  I was young.  I quite liked being with foreigners; the differences were stimulating and Mahlon was a good husband - good and kind.   But, in ten short years, all those dreams and delights were shattered.  First, my brother-in-law, then my husband died.  We'd been a rich well-resourced family and now, all that was left were we three women - no men to give us legitimacy, security or children.  The opportunities which had seemed limitless, were now almost non existent; the obstacles huge.   Naomi didn’t have a choice – she had to go back - back to Judah, to Bethlehem, where, hopefully, she’d find some kinsman who would provide her with a home and a measure of security.  The outlook was pretty bleak for her.

And Orpah’s and my options weren’t much better.  What was I thinking of?  I must have been out of my mind.  ‘Wherever you go, I will go....’

Naomi knew there were no opportunities for us if we stayed with her.  And, she certainly gave us the impression that she didn’t want us to join her. I think it was Orpah who first put the idea in my head.  “Go back to your mothers’ house”, Naomi pleaded with us.  She had enough problems, without having to find ways to keep us.  “Go, find a new husband - that's your only option - take it, while you are still young” she urged. 

I think I was ready to go when Orpah said ‘no, we will return with you to your people’.  I know she's didn't really mean it - her parents were already lining up an older man, who could provide her with a home and heir.  But as I added my voice to Orpah’s, the thought came upon me, for the first time, that this was a realistic option.  What would happen, if I went with Naomi?  What did I have to lose?  Did I have the courage to take another risk – to cross another boundary – to embrace a new people, a new way of life? 

I've often wondered about that moment.  When Orpah opened that door for me, she'd already closed it for herself.  What made me step through?  Some might read my story in later times and think of me as the self-sacrificing one - giving up on my opportunities, committing myself to my mother-in-law’s patriarchal view.   But I prefer to think of myself as making a very proactive choice even within the very limited opportunities before me. I was willing to move into the unknown and take my chances.  There was no hope in going backwards. 

My name is Naomi. All that happened a long time back. I am an old woman now and this is my story.

It is a hard thing to lose ones children; my two sons, and then my husband    all in a small space of time.

I hardly knew how to keep going. My grief reached into the marrow of my bones. All I knew was to return home, back to where I came from. My sons’ wives, my two new daughters were with me as we set out for Israel. Quite soon I questioned the wisdom of them making this journey and beseeched them to return to their families. My mind was not as steady as it usually was – I had asked them to come and then I was asking them to return to their homes.

Grief does that. 

Orpah did go back but Ruth was adamant at continuing on. We soon became a team relying on each other. Two women travelling alone was not easy and having her along helped me a lot.

This is the story that is written of me in the book named after Ruth.

“When Naomi saw that [Ruth] was determined to go with her, she said no more to her.

 So the two of them went on until they came to Bethlehem. When they came to Bethlehem, the whole town was stirred because of them; and the women said, ‘Is this Naomi?’ She said to them,
‘Call me no longer Naomi,
   call me Mara,
   for the Almighty has dealt bitterly with me.
I went away full,
   but the Lord has brought me back empty;
why call me Naomi
   when the Lord has dealt harshly with me,
   and the Almighty has brought calamity upon me?’   (Ruth 1:18-21)

This is how I tell it.

When we eventually arrived I was surprised that I was immediately recognized. People called out to me by name. But what they saw was the woman they once knew. I was no longer that person. The lightness and joy I once knew had drained out leaving me full of bitterness and grief. I know this about myself. I know I was no longer an easy person to be with. I was battered by the events in my life and I could hardly seem to shift from what had happened. It was a shock to me to know myself in this way – that I was a bitter woman.

Ruth was industrious and without her we would have perished. We were a team. There wasn’t much I could do but I did know some things. There were some ways that I could still be of some worth. I advised her where to go and who to trust.

Boaz came into our life. He had always been a good man and I thought we could trust him to help us. I’m not sure now whether what I did next I would do again but history cannot be re written. I did what I did and I must own my actions.

I asked Ruth, my own daughter, my dearest companion, to creep into his bed one night and lie with him. Fortunately the outcome was good. He did treat her well, he didn’t take advantage and he has looked after us. But would I do that again – no I think not, I would hope not. Hindsight is easy but at the time we were struggling to know how to survive. Living in that place is different, what is a no go now changes with circumstances.

In time a child came from their relationship. This child has helped me find my life again. I thought my life was over and now I am a grandmother. There is much for me to live for.

Throughout my life I have had to make many hard decisions, often on my own. I’ve done my best, at times maybe I could have done better – who knows.

How do we know what makes for a good enough decision? 

Doing all you can with all you have, where you are right now – that’s all any of us can do -  no more is needed.

Ruth appears again in the Biblical Story – at the beginning of the New Testament, in a genealogy full of ‘begats’ and rarely read.   Nestled amongst this catalogue of men whom Matthew lists to provide ‘an interpretative framework for the Gospel’, are five women, four of whom have origins or connections outside Judaism; five women who ‘are in relationships that are in some way marginal to and undermine the conventional patriarchal marriage pattern’^[1]

reminding Matthew’s readers that God’s action is not confined to cultural norms.  Ruth, Tamar, Rahab, Bathsheba and Mary all come from the edges of life; each is required to make a tough decision within limited choices.  And, from out of their ‘good enough’ decisions, transformation emerges, new life is birthed and the promise of God’s flourishing future becomes a reality for all.   This is indeed Good News.  Thanks be to God. Amen.

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[1] Warren Carter “The Gospel According to Matthew” in The New Interpreter’s Study Bible (2003) p.1748.

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[1] Amy-Jill Levine “Ruth” The Women’s Bible Commentary, Carol A. Newsom and Sharon H. Runge, eds., (1992) p.78.

[2] Warren Carter “The Gospel According to Matthew” in The New Interpreter’s Study Bible (2003) p.1748.

Sermon for 29 July 2012 - with Sandra Turner

Resilience in Vulnerability 2

Readings: Luke 15:11-32; “The Guest House” Jelaluddin Rumi (13^th century mystic)

This morning our focus is on the parable traditionally (but rather restrictively) called ‘The Prodigal Son’. There’s more to it than that.

Like the parable of the Good Samaritan, on which we focussed last week, it’s a key parable for Christianity – without these two parables, Christianity would not be the same.[1] And yet (and this is the beauty of parables) even with its critical significance to Christianity, there are multiple ways of interpreting the story. 

Such multiplicity presents not a problem, but boundless gift, as we place our hopes and longings for full, liberated and resilient lives within the Holy Mystery that is God. 

The concept that there is no ‘one official line’, no ‘one correct version’  is not some wishy-washy meaningless liberal concept, but rather an invitation to explore honestly and openly the complexities of life within the much broader complexities of God-ness.

Jesus’ parables were – and still are – exceptionally helpful, because behind them lie everyday life realities.  We have before us, not just a story told by Jesus, but in many ways, ‘our story’ too.  Parables have a way of engaging us within the drama – inviting us to be “a participant, not a spectator, in what is going on”. [2]  Here, we can ‘try on’ and develop various roles; for it doesn’t take much effort to realise that at different times, and in different parts of our lives, we are the younger brother, the elder brother, and the father of this story.  

This morning, we invite you to take your place as an active participant within this well known parable of Jesus – changing roles, questioning and adding to traditional interpretations – and in doing that, opening yourself to different ways of telling your own faith-life story – with all its challenges, complexities and complications.  As we enter this Parable, making it our story, we find both

resilience within our complexities and

alternative personal narratives –

all held within the much bigger, even more complex, story of the Source of all Being in whom we live and in whom we may flourish. 

It’s most commonly known as the Parable of the Prodigal Son.  A familiar story – a dominant story – of a prodigal – a selfish wastrel –demanding what is not his to have – spending it all on riotous frivolous living – and, when the money runs out, turning penitent – returning home to the all loving father.  We might hope we would never act like this prodigal….

Hang on here. What about

Prodigal son

·        This was my OE. I needed to breathe, I am an adventurer at heart. I wanted to see the world. Staying here I would have suffocated

·        Teenagers and young men ask – that’s what we do. We want to be out in the world doing stuff. It wasn’t such a big thing to ask for some help from the family. You could have said no and maybe that would have been good for me – maybe.

·        Do you think it has all been a bed of roses? I’ve worked in foreign lands where I’ve been on my own and I’ve not known the language. There have been times when I was very lonely but I kept going.

·        You say I squandered everything and lived a debauched life. But you don’t know what happened. You haven’t even asked. You have listened to what others have said and made up your mind. Life is more complicated than just one thing.

·        I have come back knowing more about life than if I had stayed here in the village. I know what it is to be with your back against the wall. I’ve come home not expecting anything.

·        This is all a bit over the top – the big feast and all - though I am relieved there is still a place for me here in this family.

It’s not that black and white…

Occasionally, it’s been called the parable of the Lost Son and Lost Brother.  A familiar story – a dominant story – the Elder Son – the stay at home, bitter, jealous and resentful one –  refusing to welcome his younger brother – angry with both his father and his brother – knowing he’s missed out, been mis-treated – and it is just not fair.  We don’t particularly like his response …but perhaps we understand it most…

Hang on here. What about

Eldest son

·        I know I’m not an adventurer, I don’t have it in me the way my brother does.

·        It has suited me to stay at home, I need the familiar, to know where I belong

·        Yet I envy my brother for being able to get away. I wish I were more a bit like him. I like the regular, to know where I stand and what the rules are. I am obedient. This way of living suits me.

·        I need recognition too – it’s hard being taken for granted. I’m a hard worker, I don’t often ask for much. Yet I have become used to not getting much recognition. Dad only sees me when something hasn’t been done properly.

·        Fairness is a value I live by. So when he came home and got treated like a prince I really lost it. I ranted and I know what I said was extreme. Accusing him of devouring your property with prostitutes was a bit over the top

·        I want you all to see me too

It’s not that black and white…

It’s sometimes known as the Parable of the Forgiving Father.    It’s a familiar story – a dominant story – a story about a generous and loving father, mistreated and misunderstood by both his sons – and yet, consistently, constantly and compassionately accepting and embracing them – to the extent that he will open up his purse, his home and his heart to them, no matter what.   The Parable of the forgiving, giving and welcoming father.  We can only dream that we might be like that….

Hang on here. What about considering this:

Father

·        I’ve been too focused on work and I can see that I’ve made mistakes. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone

·        I didn’t see that my eldest needed recognition

·        I don’t see that my actions are inequitable

·        I am ready to welcome my son home, despite what others say about him. There are those who want me to punish and push him away. I’ll not do it.

·        I’ve made mistakes too but I’ll not make that one. I know this place.

·        My family is more important than holding a grudge

It’s not that black and white…

And those are the characters of the story … unless of course you want to think about the fatted calf …

Hold on here.

What about me - Mother

·        I have missed this son so much. I didn’t want him to go but I knew he needed to. He is an adventurer at heart; he has to breathe, to be himself.

·        I wish my eldest had some of the adventurer in him. I wish he would stand up to his dad sometime and get what he needs. He’s not really angry with his brother – he’s angrier with his father.

·        I don’t have much influence in this family. I haven’t learnt to have my voice – I tend to keep myself in the background.  I love them all and I know we’re not perfect. We could do things better – all of us.

The story ends with no happily ever-after line; we don’t know if the anger continued to be nursed, or if there was reconciliation … and does that matter? 

What are the stories that you tell? Is it the dominant story, the cliché one or do you get interested in finding out about the bigger story, the back ground story, the untold story? Finding out more, giving up the established and known story requires humility in all of us. It requires us each to live with the complexity of our lives. 

No one ever actually knows all of what happened.

The lingering question is ‘where are you?’  Are you inside joining in the celebration, stuck outside hearing the music and dancing but too angry and resentful to go in, silent and voiceless in your pain?  Can other perspectives enable you to move? 

And even more challenging, how comfortable are you with a God who is this foolish?  Can you cope with a complex God …whose love is so extravagant and un-calculating; who gives the freedom, bears the pain, aches in the despair and is so indulgent of human failing as this?[3]  For it is in this complex God, that our hope for resilience lies.

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[1] Brendan Byrne, The Hospitality of God (2000) p.127

[2] Byrne p.8

[3] Byrne p.131-132.

Sermon for 22 July 2012 - with Sandra Turner

Finding Resilience in Vulnerability:  A three-part series of worship and exploration.

Led by Sandra Turner and Sarah Mitchell.

For the Sunday mornings of July 22, 29 and August 5, using biblical stories, the topic will be opened within the context of worship and reflection as we seek to build resilient selves in the midst of our (so often challenging and painful) life realities. On the Monday evenings there will be the opportunity to explore, at depth, the implications of these stories for our lives.
Sandra Turner is a member of Knox Church, Dunedin and a Psychotherapist who has a long standing interest in developing spirituality within the context of vulnerability and resilience. She is the author of To Rakiura & Beyond, which explores keeping going in the face of the unknown.

Readings:  Luke 10:30-37 and “Paying it Forward” from To Rakiura and Beyond by Sandra Turner (2011)

Sarah

There’s probably not one of us here this morning, who doesn’t know the parable of the Good Samaritan.  For many Christians, this is the story which sums up the faith – being a good neighbour – being the Christ to others with the same amazing compassion offered by this unlikely, rejected and despised outsider – the Good Samaritan.  He doesn’t have a name – in fact, none of the characters do – and yet, each has a role to play in inviting the listener to place their life story within the parable narrative.  The Samaritan, the Priest, the Levite, the Innkeeper – all provide different perspectives and viewpoints from which we might consider how we understand ourselves and how we relate (or don’t) to our neighbour. 

Today, in this first of three services in which we explore the developing of resilience in the face of vulnerability, Sandra and I invite you to focus on the one who probably receives the least attention in most interpretations of this parable; let’s consider the one, who in this story is probably the most vulnerable: the one who has been beaten up – and left for dead.  Let’s step into his shoes for a moment...

He was taking the road from Jerusalem to Jericho … it was not a particularly safe route… a bit like life…  Little did he know, as he set out that morning, he wouldn’t make it to his planned destination.  Isn’t this our story too?  The day starts just like any other, when – out of the blue – disaster strikes.  A betrayal, a death, a diagnosis comes out of nowhere; we are robbed of our confidence and our security; our lives are changed for ever.  Our battered selves lie, half-dead, at the side of the road... abandoned and ignored by others, unable to help ourselves; and we’re not quite sure that we have the strength to get through. We observe those representing the Church and the State (the ones we might reasonably expect to provide help) walking by on the other side; we’re alone.  And sometimes, it’s at that moment, when hope is at its lowest ebb, the unlikely one comes, the despised one, the one we wouldn’t be seen dead with – holding out their hand, offering us their help.

Sandra

She offered nothing except the irritation of form filling and the gathering of baseline recordings: temperature, pulse, respiration and blood pressure. Her meek approach hardly seemed enough for this place where the stakes were high. I flicked her off as quickly as possible. Only the strong and vital captured my attention.

The call had gone out “Save the Hickmans”. An infection was lurking in the tubing that protruded from my chest wall and a great deal of effort was now being mobilised to shore up my struggling white blood cells. The Hickmans' line needed to be securely in place before everything could proceed; the stem cell harvest, the high dose chemotherapy and finally the bone marrow transplant.

Within a half hour the routine of life had vanished. No longer was it my schedule or even my life that ruled but the schedule and routine of the hospital. There was little to do but comply. I hunkered down, pulling myself three inches inside my skin, keeping all distress and worry at bay, donning on what good behaviour I could muster. Yet perfunctory dismissal, displays of irritation and arrogance hardly constitute good behaviour.

But this woman is persistent; she is determined to do her nursing care plan. I hardly hear her question, I’m not that interested in giving this mouse any more than the minimal attention I can get away with. She refuses to give up.

“What is it that bothers you about being in hospital?”

Eventually her words penetrate and despite my need to be self-contained, I begin to speak. I tell her what it is like to feel well; to have appointments scheduled for the week, to feel fully competent and then once again lose all independence, all ability to shape my own life. This place has been hard won. Twice now I have closed my practice and then bit by bit built up a confidence, in others, and in myself that I am robust enough and reliable enough for this work.

This is not just an admission for antibiotics. The big picture is of being in control or not being in control. No little thing. If I could stop long enough I would know that this was a spiritual crisis but I’m not yet ready to know that one. That comes later.

“So you need to be able to go home when you are not getting the antibiotics. Would that help?” The shock of being seen opens me up and my precious self-sufficiency begins to drop away. I accept her help and the nursing plan is written. Surprisingly the arrangement holds. The afternoon staff nurse arrives and announces she is organising teatime leave for me. No asking is needed, no good reasons are sought, this is what is needed, the nursing plan says so. Ah yes, this is a need, not a frivolous want. I do need to stay connected up to my life, to have time with my family at home. I will be better for this.

Returning to the ward after a few hours leave at home, a woman comes towards me from down the corridor. She is frail and shuffles along leaning close to the wall, seemingly for support and maybe even comfort. Her clothes hang on her and she wears what seems like a knitted tea cosy on her head. Any semblance of femininity has long since gone. Her features are gaunt, her eyes are dull. She hardly knows that I exist as she channels all her effort into this semblance of shuffling. Yet her very existence blares out at me, stopping me in my tracks.

Instantly my bile rises up. Does she not have any dignity? Surely she can do better than this? At least she could have the decency to get into a wheel chair or even use the utility corridor and stay out of sight. I want her away from me, I do not want to know that she exists. Her vulnerability disgusts me. I do not want to see her. I definitely do not want to see me or where I am heading. I want to be in a world that is okay.

This woman is possibly the last person whose hand I would accept as an offering of help. Maybe I might offer her my hand, be the person who is okay. From that place I can safely be the one who offers comfort. Life now is following the right order. I am helping someone who needs help. I do not even stop to consider that she has something to offer me. In this moment I have already dismissed her as someone of little worth to me though I could be of worth to her. Arrogance knows no bounds.

Who are the people you are comfortable enough to have them help you? Who will you let take your hand and who are the ones for whom you keep your hands firmly in your pocket. When someone asks you, “how are you?” what is you automatic response?

Will you let them know or will you keep them safely at a distance? Are you “fine”, “great”, or do you retreat to that old reliable place of “I’ve been really busy” as if being busy is the marker of well being. Is it easier to be alone and bruised rather than let any one see your vulnerability? Being willing to be seen requires courage and wise choices.  After all not everyone knows how to take your hand easily, to listen without intruding or adopting a one up position.

But how do you choose? Does the person you let in have to be someone from your family, or not from your family, someone like you, same status, same position in life, a woman, a man, or even someone you will never meet again. We all limit our choices, sticking with the familiar, narrowing down, hunkering down, making do and keeping on going – not seeing there are other options.

When you look in the mirror do you turn away? Are you harsh in your appraisal or are you willing to embrace this person in front of you, flaws and all? Will you take your own hand and not turn away?

Having the strength to be vulnerable is an odd paradox? Will you let the Samaritan come into your life and take your hand?

Sarah

Developing such vulnerable strength takes practice.  And so today, I invite you into a beginning moment of spiritual practice – a practice in which we cooperate with God in making the choice not to stay in the despair of isolation, but to enter the risky vulnerable place of being known and seen.  Before we exchanged the Peace this morning, we sang about placing peace into each other’s hands as a treasure – each reaching out to the other – looking each other warmly in the eye – having the strength to be vulnerable to one another – and thus accepting peace from the most unlikely people.  And so, in the minute of silence, which we will now keep, I invite you to get up from your seat, and without words, reach out your hand to someone and, looking them warmly in the eye, put peace into their hands and accept peace from them – give this treasure of peace a chance to flourish – so that love may enter the unexpected place, here on your road from Jerusalem to Jericho.

Sermon for Bible Sunday - 15 July 2012

Guest Preacher:  Rev. Dr. Judith McKinlay

Today is Bible Sunday. I’ve been marking essays on the biblical book of Job, and what’s impressed me - even surprised me  - has been people writing & saying how helpful – not just interesting - but helpful - they’d found it - long time church members, who’d never really read Job before.

I was reminded too of being at a conference some years ago – where we were let out one afternoon to go exploring. One of the group – a NT scholar and a bishop – couldn’t do that physically. When we got back he said he’d spent the afternoon reading Job. I asked him why – but he gently turned the question back: why not? I felt just a little foolish!

But have you read Job lately? Have you ever read Job?

It’s a very old story. It begins with God up in heaven with all his angels, saying to one of them, who’s been going to and fro on the earth, noticed that good guy Job lately? There’s nobody quite like him. Well, yes, he says - but he’s only good & faithful because you’ve blessed him so well – do you really think he’d still be faithful if you took everything away? That’s the key question.

So God agrees to a test – Job loses everything including his children - is covered in sores from head to foot & his wife says, Still faithful? Then she makes a famously ambiguous challenge – the word she uses can mean either curse or bless. It can’t really be translated – she’s posing the question: will Job curse God or bless God - & will he just give up altogether and die.

That’s the plot. We know it’s a set up – a wager in heaven to test Job, but Job doesn’t know this at all.

And now his friends appear - & they’ve got all the answers. They’re well schooled – they all know the dogma – they’ve all read the books & they know if disasters happen, it must be Job’s fault - he must have sinned. Well, of course, Job has also been well brought up - he knows about doctrine and dogma too. I could also talk as you do if you were in my place (16:4).

He knows human beings are fallible – always getting things wrong & doing what we shouldn’t – but he knows he hasn’t been this bad! And suddenly we realize this is a book about theological debate. Suddenly we realize the bible is entering our world. We know about theological debates.

But this is a very ancient book.

It’s shock & despair for Job. He wishes he’d never been born. Why did you bring me forth from the womb, would that I had died before any eye had seen me (10:18).

But there’s no stopping the friends. No question: Job must have deserved this.

Think now, who that was innocent ever perished?

            Or where were the upright cut off? (4:7)

And they have the right prescription: Job must accept what’s happened as just, agree with God - according to their view of God - and be at peace (22:21)

When Job counters this, they’re scandalized: your own mouth condemns you (15:5-6) & shows you’re guilty!

Job’s response - miserable comforters are you all with windy words (16:2-3).

We, of course, know why Job is suffering, - that wager up in heaven - but he doesn’t, crying out to God Why do you hide your face, and count me as your enemy? (13:24)

 And he protests: I was at ease and God broke me in two. God seized me by the neck and dashed me to pieces (16:12).

But one thing he feels sure about: that he will be heard: even now, my witness is in heaven (16:19). I have … prepared my case. I know I shall be vindicated (13:18)

As the to-ing and fro-ing continues, the issue becomes wider: why is it that the wicked live on … and grow mighty in power (21:7).

It’s that persistent question: why do bad things happen to good people?  Where is God in the midst of it all?

Then in chs.29-31 Job considers his life – when he was a big shot – how when he went out in public, the young men all stood back, the top people stopped talking, even the elderly stood up for him, and my word dropped upon them like the dew. It was all good. He gave money to charities. He wore justice like a garment. That was life as it was meant to be. Very good for people of substance like Job, not so good for the blind, the lame and the needy – those receiving his charity. Sounds familiar?

But this is an ancient book.

The point is Job believes this is how the world should be. As Carol Newsom puts it, Job needs to change his moral imagination.[1] This is key for the book of Job.

Think about it. Is our world running any better – the wealthy receiving tax cuts - some gaining more from bonuses than others have to live on –so many children living in poverty, and rest home care givers shamefully underpaid. Is this what is needed today - a change in our moral imagination?

But Job is still wanting to bring his case before God. The youngest of his friends – the last on the scene, just scoffs. God does not regard any who are wise in their own deceit (37:24). i.e. you don’t really think God is going to take any notice of you.

And then – dramatically, God answered Job out of the whirlwind.

But - big but - God doesn’t talk about Job – or Job’s condition. "What God offers to Job are images … of the intrinsic goodness of the natural world.”[2] Not Job’s world of social inequalities. Not Job’s world centring on human society & status.

Is it by your wisdom that the hawk soars, and spreads its wings toward the south? Is it at your command that the eagle mounts up and makes its nest on high? (39:26).

Who has cut  … a way for the thunderbolt to bring rain on a land where no one lives, on the desert which is empty of human life, to satisfy the waste and desolate land and to make the ground put forth grass? (38:25-27)

This is not Job’s world  - this is the starting point for changing Job's moral imagination, and it’s creation theology! In a very very ancient book!

What does Job learn? That there are limits to human understanding, that God is not ‘handcuffed" by us,[3]  that creation is a mystery – but - & I am quoting -with “an order of rightness” and “intrinsic goodness.”[4]  And today we might add, held together by the so-called God particle.

And finally Job admits he’s been speaking without understanding (42:3). Then, in what we might expect to be key, Job’s final statement is quite ambiguous. The NRSV has him say therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes. Lowly worm stuff. But the word “repent” can also mean “comforted”, so Job can be saying, I am comforted concerning dust and ashes. I’m OK now about being human in God’s created world.

God hasn’t accused Job - of sin or scandalous talk. Surprise for the friends. In fact, God says you have not spoken of me what is right, as my servant Job has (42:7)! Surprise again - they thought they were defending God against Job!

But according to the book of Job, protesting & challenging God is OK. More than that: wrestling with the God questions is not only OK it’s a must, especially over issues of justice.

So - it’s a book about theology – about faith when everything’s gone wrong – about the goodness of creation & our place in it – about our moral imagination. All of this.

Or, as one writer puts it: it’s like “a tangram, one of those puzzles with pieces that fit together in countless ways … but no combination can be said to be ‘right’ or ‘wrong’.” The point is in the ‘handling’ which “is itself a learning process.” So “those of us willing to wrestle with the book of Job, will never arrive at the meaning” but will “learn something about the meaning of our own lives.”[5] 

That’s what my students have been telling me, about this very very ancient biblical book. Have you read Job lately?

Knox Church. 15/7/12 am.                                                   Judith E. McKinlay

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[1] Carol Newsom, "The Moral Sense of Nature: Ethics in the Light of God's Speech to Job," The Princeton Seminary Bulletin xv/1 (1994): 9-27.

[2] Newsom, "The Moral Sense of Nature,” 16-17.

[3] Gustavo Gutierrez, On Job  (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1987), 73.

[4] Newsom, "The Moral Sense of Nature,” 17-18.

[5] Alan Cooper, "Reading and Misreading the Prologue to Job," JSOT 46 (1990): 67-79