He suggests:

“For every person there is one way in which they can show God, and only they can do it like that.”

I like this attitude very much.  It is respectful of personal distinctiveness.  It allows for a diversity seldom approached in the church.   If reflects the sermon I chickened out of a week or so ago on John 1:10-18. It was mainly on verse 17  and the meaning of the words from which are derived the phrase ‘Grace and Truth’ mainly in the Hebrew word Chesed.  The part at which I stopped short would have said that we have created anew the law and are living in subservience to that, rather than in witness to the ‘Grace and Truth’.  If you take this to its (I’ll have to say ‘perhaps’ here because I’m part of the problem) logical conclusion the structures and organisation or business based Church (basically control) which we run is putting into a small box something that was never intended to be contained and until we let go of control and allow people to be ruled by the heart we will always be smothering something beautiful.  To be continued, after another book I’ve not yet finished - A Celtic Model of Ministry.

My talk, titled:  ‘Whose Eyes?’

To lament a leaf…

How empty stands the winter tree,
once with a canopy full of leaves.
How bare you are without adornments,
No green covering to shade and protect.

You wept bitterly in the early autumn sun,
As golden leaves turned from the sky and fell to earth.
Your glorious array of colour, vibrant life,
dropped away to leave stark winter branches.

Clinging to the last of them as a mother clings to her children,
Grieving for the splendour of your, once, majestic arches,
Now standing alone, bleak and bereft.
Mourning the life that stood proud in the sun.

Your splendour, once in golden leaf,
has become desolate and black,
carpeting the earth with mildew,
A spreading blanket of decay.

Once life giving, energy changing,
capturing, receiving and pouring out.
Now lying still, lifeless, the last goodness
leaching out into the damp soil beneath.

In despair you stand at the end of winter,
the last clutches of frost at the tips of your branches.
Silent now, rejected by your beloved.
Small tendrils of mist rising to meet the warming sun.

… is to rejoice in new-birth

Come and see what death has become,
bend low and take in the stench of decay.
The warmth in the blanket of leaves,
New life nestling in the carpet of detritus.

A green finger rising through the warm earth,
pointing towards the empty canopy which gave it life.
A shoot emerging from hibernation
growth in the midst of the chaos.

The leaves that died here left their legacy,
of goodness and nutrients.
One life given up for the good of another,
a completion of the story of all that lives.

Slowly the old tree feels the warmth in her roots,
the familiar tingling of sap rising.
A glimmer of memory that is behind and before;
The sticky sweet buds that bear the new hope.

The last song of the dying leaf was not its golden colours,
it is the bright, vibrant green of new growth.
A winter of despondency, gives way to the spring of rejoicing,
The new canopy is reborn rising majestically from the ashes of the last.

I wonder whether I was too keen to point out that I felt awkward with the passage and its use in being a gatekeeper to the kingdom when really the only judge is God. I’m not sure how it was taken, though there were some kind comments afterwards.

I am sure though that with longer reflection on the passage I would have probably approached it slightly differently.

So, in penance I have decided to re-write, well actually write (I only preached from notes) the sermon out in full. Since I am away for a few days, (see the last post) (it’s dry and warm, no soggy cycling!!) I shall perhaps post it on my return having had a few days to mull it over!!

Revd Peter Owen Jones says that Church of England is intellectual, while one of the religions he is visiting is purely physical in its spirituality, its path to God. Well, I would have to say that after a weekend of bricklaying, I rather feel that we can do the physical as well, we just have to be slightly more creative about it. Perhaps laying the foundations of a greenhouse is not quite what he is on about…

I look forward to the next episode on Friday 9pm BBC2

…

Since writing the above I have realised that I always ‘write’ my sermons whilst doing something, walking, shopping, gardening etc. I guess the physical frees the mind to think clearly.

It’s packed, there is a new play, the program has the title
The Beginning of the Gospel about Jesus Christ, the son of God.’
The crowd are in hushed anticipation, not sure of what to expect, jostling one another for position to be the first to see who comes out onto the stage, to find out about the new story, the new play.

SUDDENLY a curtain above the stage flies open and a trio of trumpeters step out and play a glorious fanfare. From off stage a voice sings out:
‘Prepare ye the way of the lord’
The crowd look from one to another in disbelief, is this what they have been waiting for?

A lone thespian steps from behind a curtain and delivers a speach about a guy called John and something to do with sandals and thongs

It is all a bit much, the audience have heard it all before, it’s the same story in a new box, nothing different from last time.

They were all expectant, but missed the point

Wanted to hear the news, but missed it in the new presentaion

Almost unnoticed, and with devestating humility, in the guise of many who are poor and in need, Christ Comes into each heart open to receive him.

Not just for Christmas, not just this Advent, but each and every day

But am really having to think about yesterdays two sermons, not to mention the predominant theme of blood sacrifice in the worship session

On a lighter note, was driving home, asked by fellow traveller what I thought of the first sermon, replied ‘it was crap’ and lo a flock of seagulls deposited their guts onto the windscreen!!

Oh my god how we laughed!!