Trusting the Process of Letting Go  – a reflection on Mark 10:17-31 

One of the great privileges of ministry is journeying with people through all the phases of their lives, but what often feels like the most privileged moment is journeying with congregation members in their final days and hours.  It often feels like an angelic voice whispers as with Moses at the burning Bush, that one should take one’s shoes off because one is standing on sacred ground. 

A few years ago, Wendy read a book by Stephen Levine entitled ‘A Year to Live’. He invites the reader to imagine that one only has a year to live and to work through what that might mean for you.  What changes would you make?  What relationships would you nurture? What things would you let go of, knowing that within the space of a year, you are in the end going to have to let go of everything? 

In today’s passage from the Gospel of Mark, we meet a man who asks Jesus a question many of us have probably asked in some form: What must I do to inherit eternal life? Modern, contemporary people would probably phrase the question:  What is the meaning of my life? How do a find true fulfilment, and a deeper sense of connection to something beyond the everyday world. For the man in the story, this question represents a sincere spiritual seeking—a desire to live in alignment with what is most true and lasting.

Yet, when Jesus gives him an answer—sell what you own, give to the poor, and follow me—the man goes away grieving. His wealth, his possessions, his attachments, are too great to let go of.  They become barriers to his deeper spiritual life. If before we die, all of us are going to need to do some serious letting go, this Rich Young Man is not ready to let go, not ready to start the shedding process that will bring him true spiritual freedom.  

This story, though situated in a specific Christian context, speaks to a universal human experience that resonates with all the great spiritual traditions of the world. At its heart, it’s a teaching about loosening the grip of worldly attachments, transformation, and the search for true fulfilment—a wisdom echoed in many of the world's spiritual traditions.

The rich man in Mark’s Gospel is not unlike many of us. He has done well for himself, followed the commandments, and likely lived a respectable life. But it is not enough. There is something missing. He is seeking eternal life, which we might understand as the search for that which is timeless, meaningful, and real. In a world of constant change, he is seeking that which changest-not to quote the hymn writer.  Yet, when asked to let go of what he has accumulated—to release his attachment to wealth—he finds it too difficult.

In all the great spiritual traditions of the world, this theme of attachment is central. Whether we look at the teachings of Jesus, the Buddha, or Hindu sages, the message is clear: the things we cling to, whether material possessions, ideas, or even our self-image, are often the obstacles to experiencing deeper spiritual freedom. The Buddha teaches that attachment to worldly impermanent things   is the root of much of our suffering, because when we hold onto impermanent worldly things —whether wealth, relationships, or status—we limit ourselves, tethering our identity to the impermanent trying to find security in things that are constantly in a state of change, like ever shifting sands. 

In this story, the man’s wealth represents more than just material goods. It symbolizes the layers of identity we build around ourselves—the roles we play, the status we achieve, the things that give us a sense of security. But these external things, no matter how much comfort they provide, are not lasting. As the mystics and sages remind us, they can obscure the deeper truth of who we are.
Jesus’ invitation to the man—sell what you own, give to the poor, and follow me—is not simply about money or charity. It’s about the willingness to let go of whatever it is that holds us back from experiencing the deeper truth of life. On the spiritual path, letting go is not an act of loss, but and act of freedom. It’s about releasing our grip on things that prevent us from living fully in the present, connected to the larger flow of life.

 In our Christian traditionm, this letting go is described as dying to self so that we might live in union with the Divine.

The invitation to the rich man is, therefore, a universal call to all of us: to consider what we are holding onto that might be preventing us from living more freely, more lovingly, more fully. Is it material wealth? Is it a particular identity or role we feel we must uphold? Is it an old wound that has come to define us or is it fear of change? Whatever it may be, the spiritual wisdom across the ages tells us that true transformation begins when we are willing to release these attachments and trust the unfolding of life and in a Higher Power or Wisdom that in our tradition we call God. 

When the man walks away grieving, Jesus acknowledges the difficulty of what he is asking: “How hard it is for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” In fact, he says, it’s easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich—someone attached to the things of this world—to enter into the deeper reality of life.

The rich man’s grief shows us the pain of clinging to what is familiar, even when it no longer serves us. 

And yet, this seemingly impossible task is followed by a word of hope: “For humans/mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.” This is a reminder that, though letting go can feel impossible from our limited perspective, we are not alone in this journey. The words of Jesus suggest that God, the Higher Wisdom of Life is not in fact working against us. The Great Mystery we call God is in fact on our side, infinitely benevolent, constantly working on our behalf drawing us all every onward and upward, constantly filling us with the inner power and resources to do things we thought we were unable to do. “For humans/mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”  In all the great spiritual traditions there is always the recognition that we are part of something much larger than ourselves. Whether we call that God, the Divine, the Universe, or the Tao, we are reminded that there is a deeper wisdom and grace that constantly supports us in the process of transformation. In the Christian tradition, it is the belief that the mystery God’s grace works through us, even in our weakness, helping us to release what we cannot on our own.

And so as we reflect on this story, we are invited to consider our own lives. What are we holding onto? What attachments or fears keep us from living more fully, more freely, more lovingly? And what might it look like to trust in the process of letting go?

Seeds of Potential - A Harvest reflection on Mark 4:3-9

Friends, today on this Harvest Sunday, I wish to reflect on a well known parable of Jesus, but I am hoping we might see it with new eyes today. 

The Synoptic Gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke, make it clear that Jesus primary method of teaching was to tell parables.  He would tell a parable, normally it would seem, without explanation.  The parable or the story would be left like a seed buried in the mind of the listener. And there, the opportunity was given for the listener to chew on the story, like a cow chewing on the cud, and for the story to gradually grow and unfold for new insights to emerge.  And so one can expect that different people might have received different insights from the parables of Jesus, because each listener was given space to listen to the parable from within their own unique circumstances.  And so a parable by it’s nature is a story that is potentially open to many different interpretations and perspectives.  Today, I invite us to listen to this parable with fresh eyes and fresh ears. We begin by hearing the parable itself: 

"Listen! A sower went out to sow. Some seed fell on the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Other seed fell on rocky ground, where it did not have much soil, and it sprang up quickly, since it had no depth of soil. And when the sun rose, it was scorched, and since it had no root, it withered away. Other seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it, and it yielded no grain. Other seed fell into good soil and brought forth grain, growing up and increasing and yielding thirty and sixty and a hundredfold. And he said, ‘Let anyone with ears to hear listen!’"

Harvest time is when we come together to celebrate the gifts of the Earth and reflect on the work, both seen and unseen, that brings forth the abundance we enjoy. This parable from the Gospel of Mark speaks to us today not just as an agricultural metaphor but as a profound reminder of the interconnectedness between the seeds we plant and the ground we prepare—within ourselves, our communities, and the world.

The sower in this story might be seen as each of us, casting out seeds of kindness, hope, justice, and love. The seeds we plant are our actions, words, and intentions—the countless ways we contribute to the larger garden of life. But the parable also invites us to ask, "What kind of soil are we cultivating?"

Some seeds fall on the path, quickly snatched up by birds. These are moments when our efforts seem fruitless, lost to the winds of circumstance, or perhaps crushed by the pace of a busy world that doesn't take time to nurture what truly matters. It reminds us that not every seed takes root immediately. Sometimes the conditions are beyond our control, and it's okay to acknowledge the disappointments along the way.

Then there’s the rocky ground, where seeds sprout up quickly but wither without deep roots. This can symbolize those times when we act without reflection or when our efforts, though full of enthusiasm, lack the depth and staying power needed for lasting impact. In these moments, we are called to ask ourselves: Are we nurturing our inner life, our core values, so that we can be resilient when challenges arise?

And what about the seeds that fall among thorns—where external pressures, negativity, or fear choke out growth before it even begins? This is a powerful reminder that the forces of doubt and division can prevent the flourishing of good intentions. Our task is to create spaces in our lives and communities where thorns of misunderstanding and mistrust are cleared away, making room for growth.

Finally, we come to the good soil, the fertile ground where seeds take root, grow, and multiply, yielding abundance. This is where hope resides, where we see the fruits of our labour, not just in the literal harvest but in the deep satisfaction of knowing that something we nurtured has come to fruition. But here’s the catch: good soil doesn’t just happen by itself. It requires preparation, care, and attention. It requires a commitment to tending the garden of our lives, our communities, and our world with patience and diligence.

In this season of harvest, we are reminded that we are all gardeners, both of the earth and of the human spirit. The seeds we cast out may not all flourish, but the soil we prepare through acts of compassion, openness, and love can make all the difference. Just as the sower in the parable continues to sow, without knowing where each seed will land, so too must we continue to nurture our relationships, tend to our inner lives, and engage in the work of justice and peace, trusting that some of those seeds will indeed find fertile ground.

Harvest is not just a time of reaping what we have sown; it is a time to recognize the ongoing cycle of planting, nurturing, and growth that sustains us all. Let us be mindful of the seeds we plant in the world around us. And let us tend to the soil of our own hearts, making space for the flourishing of all that is good and true.

May this be a harvest not only of the earth's abundance but of the abundance of the spirit. May we celebrate both the fruits of our labour and the potential for new growth yet to come.

Amen.

A Harvest  Blessing: 

May the Spirit of Life and Love
fill our hearts as we go from this place.
Just as the fields are ploughed and the seeds scattered,
may we sow compassion,
nurturing kindness wherever we walk.

May the harvest we gather be one of peace,
faithfulness, and understanding,
and may the abundance of the earth remind us
of the shared responsibility we hold
to care for one another and all creation.

Go in the spirit of gratitude,
carrying the seeds of love into the world.

Salted with Fire & the - What might it mean? (Mark 9:38-50)

Today’s reading from the Gospel of Mark presents us with a series of teachings from Jesus that are challenging, and at first glance, even unsettling. On first reading the passage gives the impression of supporting the doctrine of eternal hell, but on closer inspection one might actually question whether this is really the case. 

The passage begins firstly with the disciples encountering someone casting out demons in Jesus’ name, but this person was not part of their group. The disciples are deeply concerned by this, but Jesus responds, “Do not stop him… whoever is not against us is for us” (Mark 9:39-40).  This is in fact quite a wide embracing statement.  

It is a reminder that rather than constantly looking at what may divide us from others, we should instead look for those things that unite us and bring us together. Instead of looking for enemies like the disciples, we should be looking for friends in the eyes of those who we perceive as outsiders.  That is certainly what Jesus seems to be suggesting in this passage. 

The words of Jesus in this passage also seem to point out that God’s work is not confined to a single group or tradition; it transcends our little narrow, closed boundaries, our denominations, and our human-made divisions. Jesus suggests that in God’s vast and inclusive love, all who act in love, even those we might consider outsiders, are part of the divine plan.

For us, this is a reminder that the love of God is at work in places and people we may not expect. It’s a call to recognize and to celebrate the diverse ways in which God’s grace is manifest in the world. ‘Whoever is not against us is for us’. 

These are important values to us as Non-Subscribing Presbyterians – Divine truth can ultimately not be bound up in doctrines and creedal statements that end up dividing and excluding… What is more important than trying to fit ourselves and others into neat little doctrinal boxes, or in trying to decide who is in and who is out, is rather to live out the Way of Christ’s love in the world and being willing to see truth shining through in traditions that are even different from our own.  If a Catholic, a Muslim, a Jew, or a Buddhist had to tell us that the sky is blue, are we to disagree with them simply because they are different from us, not one of us?  Of course not.  The sky is blue… no matter who the one is who points it out. 

In the second half of the passage, the writer of Mark’s Gospel has Jesus make a shift to some strong warnings about sin—stumbling blocks, cutting off hands, plucking out eyes, and being cast seemingly into the fires of hell (Mark 9:42-48). These images are jarring, and they remind us of the seriousness of sin, in other words, of those ways which cause harm to others through our falling short from the way of love. But what are we to make of these hyperbolic statements, these exaggerated statements in light of God’s love? Surely Jesus is not asking us literally to cut off our hands and pluck out our eyes?

Those who believe in Eternal Hell would see in this passage the warning that if we are not careful, we will end up suffering in the fire’s of hell for all eternity.  A superficial reading of this passage would give that impression.  “If your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and to be thrown into hell where ‘there worm does not die and the fire is not quenched’.  That seems pretty straightforward doesn’t it?  If you sin, you will be thrown into the fire’s of hell for all eternity? Isn’t that what is is saying? 

But the original Greek does not actually use the word hell. The word that is used is the word gehenna, which referred to the rubbish dump outside of Jerusalem where rubbish was burned. 

What also do we make of the very next verse, verse 49… “Everyone will be salted with fire.”

Aren’t the fires of hell meant to be reserved for the rebellious sinners of this world? But this verse says very clearly that ‘Everyone will be salted with fire’.  That’s the interesting thing about this verse. It is not just the sinful and the rebellious that are said to be salted with fire, in verse 49 we read that ‘everyone will be salted with fire’. 

Another clue comes in the word salt.  Everyone will be salted with fire. 

Salt in the ancient world was both a purifying and a preserving substance.  It suggests that the fire which Jesus is referring to is not the fire of eternal hell and damnation, but rather a purifying fire that all of us will need to pass through as we journey ever deeper into God’s kingdom of love.  

Is it perhaps that the unquenchable fire referred to in this passage is the purifying fire of God’s love that nothing can quench, that nothing can put out, that burns and burns and burns until all the rubbish and the impurities in our lives are burned away? 

Is it possible that the warnings of this passage are also the warnings of the suffering we bring upon ourselves when we live in ways that are inconsistent with the ways of Divine Love. When we wonder off the path of Divine Love, it is not without painful consequences like a hiker or climber who strays off the mountain path and finds him of herself in treacherous difficulty.  

But even the sufferings we bring upon ourselves through our failures in love are all part of the unquenchable fire of Divine Love that will ultimately purify us and burn away the rubbish from our lives and draw us back to God in the end. 

From this perspective, the fire that is not quenched, represent the ongoing, relentless process of divine correction and transformation—a process that ultimately leads us all back to God. 

But what do we make of that reference to the worm that does not die?  It all sounds a bit gruesome?  Is this supposed to be a picture of hell where peoples decaying bodies are eaten by worms while they are suffering in the fires of hell for all eternity? 

What if the worm that does not die is in fact a metaphor referring to the gnawing away of our conscience that will not let us rest until we have finally come clean with ourselves and with God, and indeed sometimes with others as well.  Is it perhaps a reminder that it is not possible to sin in peace?  Like a worm that gnaws away at a peace of wood, no-one will ultimately be able to escape the gnawing away of the conscience that God has placed in every human being.  

We may ignore it. We may rebel against it. We may pretend that it can be silenced. We may try to cover it over.  But in the end, it continues to gnaw away within us, until we come clean. Until we are absolutely honest with ourselves, with God and with others.  The worm that does not die is therefore in fact a good thing, for it is that within us that will finally draw us back to God. For when we have come clean, we will find true and lasting peace as the fires of God’s love burns away the muck and rubbish in our lives. 

And so as we reflect on this passage today, it does not have to be read as a terrifying warning of the dangers of eternal hell but rather a warning and a reminder of the hells we create for ourselves and others by our failures in love. Ultimately it might also in fact be a reminder of the unquenchable, purifying love of the Divine—a love so powerful that it seeks out every lost sheep, every prodigal, and will not rest until all are drawn back into the embrace of God’s Pure and Infinite Love. 

Just some food for thought on a difficult passage… a passage that does carry stern warnings in it, but a passage that does not necessarily have to be read as referring to eternal hell. Maybe there is something more subtle and profound being communicated here. 

And so in closing: May we live as people of this unquenchable love—embracing the world with the love of God, being ready to see the light and love of God in unexpected places, even in people who are not the same as us or part of our group. And in doing so may we become agents of God’s  transformative grace in the world, being the salt that purifies and preserves all that is good, holy and sacred in the world. Amen.

What are we feeding our Souls?
John 6:51-58

Have you ever wondered why some people when  in a drunken state can act out in sometimes violent and angry ways that are often completely out of character?  That is an extreme example, but there are times when we all act out of character, and we don’t always understand why, unable to offer an adequate explanation to others or even to ourselves? 

The German spiritual teacher and author Eckhart Tolle in two of his books: The Power of Now, and A New Earth provides an explanation that is worth reflecting on.  In both of these books he explores the concept of what he calls the "pain body".  He describes the pain body as an accumulation of old emotional pain, unprocessed trauma and unresolved negative and painful experiences. This pain, instead of being fully acknowledged and healed, because it feels too painful or overwhelming, gets suppressed and stored within us, forming a semi-autonomous entity in our unconscious mind which Eckhart Tolle refers to as the pain body. For some this pain body is small. For others the pain body of stored up unprocessed emotional pain is large and heavy. 

Over time, he suggests that this unprocessed pain begins to take on a life of its own controlling us and affecting us from the shadows of our unconscious. He suggests that it is not just a passive presence within us; it actively seeks to manifest itself and perpetuate its existence. The pain body thrives on negativity, and it becomes stronger when we experience or engage in painful situations, conflict, or suffering. A lot of the time he suggests that we use large amounts of energy in keeping these painful, unacknowledged parts of ourselves in check. 

The pain body is most easily recognized when we are triggered into emotional reactivity. When this happens, and the pain body erupts from our unconscious to the surface of our lives we may suddenly feel an overwhelming wave of anger, sadness, or fear that seems disproportionate to the situation at hand. This reaction is often the pain body "coming to life," seizing the opportunity to express itself and feed on the negative energy.

One of the most vivid examples of the pain body erupting to the surface and taking control is when a person gets into a drunken rage. Alcohol lowers our inhibitions and diminishes the conscious mind's ability to maintain control. In such a state, the pain body can emerge unchecked, expressing itself with a force that can seem almost demonic.

In a drunken rage, a person might say or do things that are completely out of character. They may lash out verbally or physically, driven by the pain body’s need to release pent-up negativity. The person may feel a strange, perverse satisfaction or relief in this release, even though it is destructive. This is because the pain body feeds on the energy of pain and suffering, both in themselves and others.

For those with a particularly strong pain body, there can be a constant undercurrent of negativity in their lives, sabotaging situations that could bring happiness or peace and thus creating a cycle where the pain body feeds on further negativity, creating more situations that generate pain.

Eckhart Tolle teaches that the key to healing and ultimately dissolving the pain body lies in growing our awareness. The first step is to recognize when the pain body is active within us. This requires us to be perceptive, present and mindful, to observe our emotional reactions without getting lost in them. The Vietnamese en teacher Thich Nhat Hanh expresses this process beautifully encouraging us to hold our pain, our negativity, and our anger with love and compassion like a mother holding and comforting her crying baby.  Another way of saying this is to hold our pain and negativity with the compassion and kindness of Christ. 

And so when we become aware of the pain body, and hold it with awareness and compassion, we can begin to dis-identify from it. By compassionately observing the pain body without feeding it with further negativity, we start to weaken its grip on our lives and in its place we experience our true spiritual nature the divine light within, experienced as a deeper sense of peace and presence. 

In today’s Gospel reading from John 6:51-58, Jesus presents a challenging and profound teaching: "Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life." What could these words mean?   

In the reading, the crowds take Jesus literally once again. They do not see that this isn’t about physical consumption but a deep, spiritual engagement.  John’s Gospel which is filled with symbolism that invites us to understand these words at a deeper symbolic level. And I believe that what they point to is an ongoing, life-long engagement and meditation of the stories and teachings of Jesus in the Gospels. 

Birch and Rasmussen, in their book “The Bible and Christian Ethics”, remind us that this kind  continuous reflection and meditation on the life of Jesus begins to shape our characters. By constantly returning to the Gospel stories of Jesus, we allow the stories of Jesus’ life and teachings to permeate our being, seeping into our unconscious, influencing our thoughts, our values, and actions. This spiritual feeding transforms our character, aligning us more closely with Christ's own character—compassionate, just, and self-giving.

In contrast to a life of feeding on and meditating deeply on the life of Jesus, Eckhart Tolle believes that the pain body feeds on negative emotions—anger, resentment, and fear—and grows stronger the more we indulge these feelings. If we feed our pain body, it begins to dominate our inner life, distorting our perceptions and behaviours.

In light of Jesus’ teaching, we must ask ourselves: Are we feeding on Christ, or are we feeding the negativity of our pain body? To feed on Christ is to meditate on His love, peace, and forgiveness, allowing these to become the dominant forces within us. But if we neglect this spiritual nourishment, we may find ourselves unwittingly feeding our pain body, allowing bitterness and division and hatred to take root.

This dynamic is beautifully illustrated in the Native American parable of the two wolves. A man had a dream in which he saw there were of two wolves fighting within him—one good and one evil. When he woke from sleep, disturbed by the dream, he shared it with a wise and trusted person.  The wise person listened intently and then asked a penetrating question. Which one wins in the end? To which the man replied, "The one I feed the most."

This parable underscores the reality that our character is shaped by what we consistently choose to dwell on and nurture. If we feed the negativity and pain in our lives, those qualities will grow stronger within us. But if we feed on the life and teachings of Jesus, nurturing virtues like love, patience, and kindness, these will prevail.

Our Old Testament passage today comes from Proverbs 9:1-6 and personifies wisdom as a woman who invites us to her banquet, to feed on her bread and her wine, to feed on the ways of wisdom urging us to leave behind our "folly" and to find life by walking in the ways of perception. This echoes Jesus’ invitation in John 6 to partake of His life-giving flesh and blood. To accept this invitation of Christ is to choose the path of wisdom—a path that leads to true, eternal life which in John’s Gospel is not so much about living forever, but rather finding a life flowing with an inner abundance and expansiveness within.

In conclusion it needs to be said that ‘feeding on Jesus’ is about more than a single act of faith; it is a lifelong process of character formation. It requires us to consistently meditate on the life, teachings, and personhood of Jesus, allowing His compassionate example to become a living presence within us that transforms us from within. And in doing so equipping us with the capacity to hold our own and others pain, anger and negativity with the kind of loving, compassionate awareness that can heal instead of harm.

Just some further food for thought! Amen.

​PS I am away on leave for the next 5 Sundays. My next posting will be on 29th September. 

Love - The Bread from Heaven - John 6:41-51

I have spoken before of a book that I found in a charity shop a few years ago. It is entitled: “Why love matters, how affection shapes a baby’s brain.”  From research that has been done, it outlines how important love and affection are in the development of children and babies.   Love, care and affection are like a hidden food that nourishes a baby’s emotional and physical development, even shaping the wiring of the brain.  And when the receiving of this love and affection is somehow interrupted, perhaps due to some family trauma or separation, and in other instances due to neglect, the implications can be quite far reaching and include:  
    • Emotional and Behavioural Issues – 
    • Mental Health Disorders -  anxiety depression, low self esteem
    • Cognitive and Academic challenges
    • Social Relationship difficulties
    • Physical Health Issues. 
    • Long term unhealthy Behavioural patterns – which includes an inability to make good and healthy decisions in life. 
    • Trans-generational effects – these struggles and dysfunctions in turn get passed on to further generations. 

These issues in turn have enormous implications for society – including increased healthcare, higher rates of mental health issues, greater social services needed.  I think we must be clear: It doesn’t mean that all mental health issues are the failure of parents.  Some people are born with a predisposition towards mental health issues – mental health issues are complex. 

But the book is a reminder of just how important love is.  Love is our spiritual food. It is not an optional extra. It is absolutely essential. Without it our humanity becomes dysfunctional and our societies become fractured.

In last week's sermon entitled “Satisfaction” we explored how Jesus can be the bread of life for us.  Because he had awakened to the timeless, eternal I-Am within, he is able to help us to awaken to the eternal I-Am presence within us too – thus deep spiritual nourishment that leads to true satisfaction.  

Today, we continue on from last weeks Gospel passage from John 6:41-51. 

The passage begins with the reaction of the crowds to Jesus' claim: “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” 

Firstly I want to explore the idea of Jesus being the Bread that has come down from Heaven.  In the original Greek, the word for Heaven is ‘ouranou’ which comes from the word ‘ouranos’ meaning sky or starry heavens. (It is where the planet Uranus gets it name – named after the god of the sky – the god of the heavens.)

In the ancient world, the sky and the starry heavens were the most expansive things they knew stretched out above them.  From the perspective of the inner world of the spirit, or consciousness, to say that Jesus is the bread that comes from heaven, suggests that Jesus lives from a place of spaciousness and expansiveness. To live from a place of openness and spaciousness like the sky, is to live in Love, for the way of Love is the way of the open and spacious heart. 

By contrast the crowds in the story grumble and question, “Is this not Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? How can he now say, ‘I came down from heaven’?” 

The reaction of the crowds highlights a common struggle: the difficulty of seeing beyond the literal and familiar to grasp the spiritual and divine.  The crowd's scepticism mirrors our own tendencies. Often, we are confined by our limited understanding and our habitual way of seeing things which leads to a frustration and inner grumbling which represents the heart that is narrowed, contracted and closed.  Whenever we feel our hearts narrowed, contracted and closed, it is a sign that we are not living in the spaciousness and expansiveness of love. 

Secondly in this passage we see that Jesus responds to their grumbling by saying, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them, and I will raise them up at the last day.”

Here, Jesus speaks of what some might call ‘the Divine Draw’, the magnetism of the divine, the grace that initiates our spiritual journey. It is God who awakens in us the very desire to seek deeper meaning and fulfilment in life.  The sense of discontentment and dissatisfaction with with the surface things of life is already the Divine within us drawing us back to God-self. 

This divine attraction is a fundamental concept in many spiritual traditions. It is the pull of the soul back towards its source, the divine reality.  In the Tao Te Ching, the little book of Ancient Chinese Wisdom we read:  

“Each separate being in the universe returns to the common source. 
 Returning to the source is serenity. 

And Jesus assures us that this journey of return to the Source, is initiated by the one he calls Abba (the Loving Heart of Wisdom), The One who is Love itself. 

Lastly Jesus concludes the passage with a profound statement: “This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” It points to the selfless love of Christ which is  expressed most profoundly in the archetypal image of crucifixion.  

To awaken to the timeless, I-Am Presence at the heart of life, that nourishes our deeper inner hunger, is ultimately to awaken to Love.  And so it makes sense that it is through  acts of selfless love, as we see in Jesus, and all the holy people who have ever walked this earth, God draws us back to God’s Self and awakens us to the Divine Love (that spaciousness of the heart and mind) that is our very essence as those made in the Divine Image.  

I close with a story that is often attributed  to Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen. It expresses how the selfless love which we see expressed in Jesus is able to break open our hearts to that we can begin to feed on a deeper spiritual nourishment that transforms us. 

It is a story of a young man who was travelling around Europe with a group of friends. He was challenged by the friends to go into one of the confessionals of a cathedral and to make up a bogus confession, confessing to a whole list of outrageous sins. But the dare was that he would have to do whatever penance was assigned to him by the priest.  But the priest saw through the young man, and after listening intently dismissed the young man without giving him any penance.  Knowing that his friends would ask what penance the priest had given him, he asked the priest: Aren’t you going to give me any penance?  After a moment of thought, the priest responded giving him a simple penance.  He was to kneel in front of the crucifix and looking at the image of Jesus on the cross he was to say 3 times "All this you have done for me, and I don't give a damn".  The young man was unable to complete the words, for in kneeling before the image of Christ’s act of selfless, sacrificial love, the superficial nature of his own life and love was revealed. In that moment, the selfless love of Christ symbolised in the archetypal image of Christ on the cross became a moment in which he began the journey of being drawn back to his spiritual source had begun, and would culminate in him becoming a priest himself. 

I don’t know whether the story is literally true or not. Stories don’t have to be literally true to convey truth. But it does express in a powerful way how selfless acts of love have the ability to draw us back to the Source of Love itself. Amen. 

​I Am the Bread of Life -  John 6:24-35

How satisfied or dissatisfied are you with your life right now? 

In 1965 by Mick Jagger and Keith Richards wrote the song "Satisfaction" becoming one of the The Rolling Stones most iconic songs. The irony of the song is that while it is titled ‘Satisfaction’ the repeated catch phrase of the song is ‘I can’t get no satisfaction’.  

According to Keith Richards, the famous guitar riff that drives the song came to him in a dream. He woke up and quickly recorded it on a cassette player before going back to sleep. Inspired by the guitar riff, Mick Jagger then wrote the lyrics.

Upon its release in the United States in June 1965, "Satisfaction" became a major hit. It reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 chart and stayed there for four weeks. The song also topped the charts also in the UK, where it hit number one 3 months later in September 1965. It’s success in the UK was a little slower than in the US abecause it faced some initial resistance to what was deemed its controversial lyrics at the time. Perhaps a little too raw for the prim and proper etquette of the UK. 

The lyrics of "Satisfaction" express a deep sense of frustration and disillusionment with the modern world and expresses dissatisfaction with various aspects of life, including consumerism, the pressure to conform, and the superficial nature of popular culture. This in itself is an irony because over the years Mick Jagger has become an icon of that very popular culture and consumerism. 

But at a deeper level, the repeated line "I can't get no satisfaction" expresses a deep existential frustration, that gets to the very heart of our human condition and the experience of many people.  It points to the same existential longing and hunger expressed in Bruce Springsteen's song – Everybody’s Got a Hungry Heart. 

Human beings live with a deep inner hunger. We are constantly hoping to find something that truly satisfies us, but most of the time we are looking in the wrong places.  Scrolling on our smart phone’s looking, hoping to find something that will somehow hit the spot. Hoping and dreaming for our sports team or sports stars to win the big one. Then we will finally be satisfied. Maybe buying the perfect house or the perfect car… constantly looking for satisfaction. 

In John 6:35, the writer of the Gospel has Jesus speaking these words to us: “ “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

Last week we explored Mark’s version of the feeding of the 5000.  Our Gospel passage today comes after John’s version of the same story. At the end of John’s version of the feeding of the 5000, Jesus, knowing that the crowds intend to try and make him king by force, withdraws to a mountain by himself. He has no such ambition. Hi Kingdom is not of this world. Instead,  He instructs his disciples to cross over to the other-side of the lake where he will join them later. 

On the other side of the lake we find that the crowds have followed Jesus again. But in the narrative, Jesus knows that their motivation for seeking him is based on the physical bread they received, superficial surface things, rather than the deeper spiritual nourishment He offers.  "You are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves." He challenges them to seek not just physical sustenance, but the "food that endures for eternal life." 

It is a profound challenge for all of us.   Are we looking for outward, superficial rewards in life, t or are we searching for something deeper and more enduring, what Jesus calls, “food that endures for eternal life”.  (It could also be translated – food that abides in eternal life… food that comes from the eternal, timeless dimension). 

Now leading up to this point we see a pattern in the narrative of John’s Gospel where those who encounter Jesus repeatedly misunderstand His words by taking them too literally. Nicodemus (John 3), for example, struggles to grasp the concept of being "born again," thinking in terms of physical rebirth rather than an inner spiritual rebirth. The Samaritan woman at the well (John 4) initially interprets Jesus' offer of "living water" as a way to quench her physical thirst. Give me this water she says to Jesus. In today’s passage, the crowd is focused on the physical bread Jesus provided, missing the deeper significance of what Jesus has to offer them. Give us this bread they ask.

To which Jesus responds:  "I am the bread of life" suggesting that Jesus is somehow able to bring satisfaction to the deeper, spiritual hunger of the human heart. 

But what exactly does it mean to speak of Jesus as the Bread of Life?  How is it that Jesus is able to satisfy our deeper more enduring hunger, a hunger for things of an eternal nature rather than things of a temporary, impermanent nature? 

One perspective or possible clue comes in those two simple words: ‘I-Am’. This is a literary device in John’s Gospel.  The writer of John’s Gospel puts 7 I Am sayings in the mouth of Jesus. (I am the Bread of Life, I am the True Vine, I am the Door for the Sheep, I Am the Way the Truth and the Life).  In doing so the writer of John’s Gospel is invoking the Divine Name revealed to Moses in the burning bush and connecting it with Jesus.  This is a clue to why Jesus can be the Bread of Life for us.  Because Jesus in his humanity has awakened to this Divine "I-Am" presence within Himself, he is thus is able to awaken us to this I-Am presence within us too. 

This "I-Am" presence is our true essence, our eternal, uncreated, timeless nature, beyond the outward form of our humanity. It is the part of us that existed before we were born, and it is the part of us that will exist when we depart from this world of form.  As Jesus says earlier in the Gospel, when speaking to the Pharisees, ‘before Abraham was, I-Am’ (John 8:58).  But the Pharisees misunderstand Jesus.  They think he is claiming some kind of unique status as the Son of God, but a little later Jesus challenges their misunderstanding pointing out that in their own Scriptures it says ‘You are Gods’ (John 10:34) and in doing so Jesus is pointing to the DIvine I-Am that exists in all human beings.  We all have the Divine I-Am dwelling within us. The problem is we tend to define the I-Am within us in too narrow a way. We confine the I-Am to our physical form and the story of who we think we are based on the outer world of form.

But Jesus points us to an Eternal ‘I-Am’ nature within every human heart that is much bigger than who we think we are… As the writer of Ecclesiastes so eloquently puts it, ‘God has set eternity in the human heart’. (Ecclesiastes 3:11). There is something eternal, timeless, immeasurable, undefinable, uncreated within each of us, and until we discover it, we will forever be singing with Mick Jagger, ‘I can’t get no satisfaction’, because as Jesus says, we are looking for bread that spoils (John 6:27).  We need to begin to look beneath the surface of things to find the Bread of Life, the bread that does not spoil, the Bread that can bring true and deep satisfaction. “Do not work for food that spoils, but for food that abides in eternal life” says Jesus in John 6:27). 

Until we awaken to the eternal, timeless "I-Am" which is our true nature and which is always present within us, we will continue to live with an unsatisfied hungry heart, trying to fill the void with temporary and impermanent things. 

How do we do this? You might ask? 

One important way is to make time for stillness and silence. Stillness and silence are a gateway into that eternal and timeless dimenion of life and of ourselves.  This is one of the reasons I am regularly making a time for stillness and silence in our Sunday services. 

But in our Christian tradition, the path to spiritual awakening is also to be found in Jesus himself. Jesus, through His own awakening to the "I-Am" presence within, shows us the way to awaken this profound truth within ourselves also. When we reflect and meditate on the life and meaning of Jesus in the Gospels, and become aware of the timeless and eternal shining through him,  it has the ability to awaken us to the timeless and eternal that abides within us too, the timeless, eternal, divine "I-Am" within us.  

The life and teachings of Jesus in the Christian tradition in a profound way is our meditation practice in which we see a reflection or an archetype of our true selves, our true spiritual nature.  If Jesus is, as John’s Gospel says, the ‘Only Son of God’ then you and I too in our deepest essence are also ‘the Only Son/Daughter of God’. What is true of Jesus is ultimately true of each of us to.  Jesus shows us what it looks like when the ‘I-Am’ is fully expressed in human form.

Because Jesus has awakened to His true identity as the Divine "I-Am," he is able to be the Bread of Life for us, guiding us to discover this same Reality within ourselves.   That is why in the passage when the crowds ask Jesus “What must we do to do the works God requires?”  the answer comes, “The work of God is this: to believe, have faith in, entrust yourselves in the one God has sent.”  To have believe in Jesus, to have faith in him, to entrust ourselves to him, to his way and to his teaching, is to ultimately to discover the timeless I-Am Presence within ourselves and which is Present at the Heart of All Existence. When we awaken to this, we begin to live from a place of deeper inner connectedness, discovering our One-ness with the Heart of All things and that all that we need to feel truly safe, secure, happy, content and satisfied is already here and now. Eternity, already exists within us, the I-Am the Bread of Life that can bring true satisfaction to our hearts.

Just some food for the journey… some food for thought for us all today. Amen. 

​Compassion and Community - a symbolic exploration of Mark's Feeding of the 5000 (Mark 6:35-44)

Today we come to reflect on Mark’s telling of the story of the feeding of the 5,000.  I guess one of the questions that many modern readers might have is whether the story is historical or not? Did the story happen exactly like this or was it a legendary story that grew up around Jesus within the first 30 years or so after Jesus death? My rational scientific brain would question the exact historicity of the story… and yet there is a part of me that is still unable to dismiss strange and miraculous events simply because at this point science is unable to explain it.  There is far too much anecdotal evidence to suggest that strange unexplainable things don’t happen. 

What I do know however is that Mark’s Gospel deliberately employs symbolism in order to capture the meaning of Jesus life and ministry. Mark’s Gospel (in fact like all 4 gospels) is in fact very short to be a history of Jesus life.  Rather, the author seems to have deliberately crystallised a number of stories in order to capture symbolically, the meaning of Jesus life and ministry.  And so I believe that it is not just possible, but quite probable that the writer of Mark’s Gospel is wanting us to interpret this story of the feeding of the 5000 symbolically.  And so, like the Native American story teller who would always begin his tribe’s creation story with the words:  “I don’t know if it happened exactly like this, but I know this story is true”, that is how I would approach this story from Mark’s Gospel today.  “I don’t know if it happened exactly like this, but I know this story is true”… and so I invite us to explore some of the symbolic truth of the story and how it might speak to us today. And when we do so, I believe that we find that it is more than simply a story about a miraculous provision of food; it might in fact be a profound statement about God's kingdom, justice, and community. 

Setting the scene in Mark’s Gospel, as we saw last week, the disciples have just returned from their missionary journey, and Jesus invites them to rest. They withdraw to a quiet place, but the crowd follows. As Jesus sees the multitude, He is moved with compassion because they are "like sheep without a shepherd." This phrase (which we touched on last week) evokes the imagery of Psalm 23, where the Yahweh, or ‘the Lord’ is depicted as the shepherd who provides, guides, and cares for His flock.

In Psalm 23, we read, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures." Here in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus instructs the people to sit down on the "green grass." This detail is not incidental. The writer of Mark is directly linking Jesus' actions in this passage to the pastoral care depicted in Psalm 23. Mark is wanting to emphasize that Jesus is the good Shepherd, God’s chosen leader for his people Israel, who sees the needs of the people and responds with compassion and provision where the actual leaders of Israel have failed because of their own corrupted self-interest.

Ched Myers, in his book “Binding the Strongman” develops these insights further and suggests that   this miracle is not just about feeding hungry stomachs; it's a radical act of economic justice and community building. Myers interprets this event as a direct challenge to the Roman Empire's economic system, which was marked by scarcity, competition, and exploitation. The Roman Empire, as almost all of the world’s empires have been was fundamentally built on the principle of exploitation.  Slaves and peasants were exploited through low wages and taxation to create wealth for the Empire. The crowds, in Mark’s Gospel represent these large swathes of people living in the Roman Empire whose primary purpose in the eyes of the Empire were to be used and exploited as economic fuel for the glory of the Empire. 

Getting back to the story, when the disciples suggest sending the crowd away to buy food, Jesus' response is revolutionary: "You give them something to eat" he says. In doing so, Ched Myers believes that Jesus shifts the focus from the market economy of buying and selling to a community of sharing. The disciples find five loaves and two fish—an amount that seems insignificant—but in Jesus' hands, it becomes abundantly sufficient.

Jesus takes the loaves, looks up to heaven, blesses them, breaks them, and gives them to the disciples to distribute. Many suggest that this act mirrors the symbolic practice of communion, where all share and are fed from a common loaf. But Ched Myers suggests that it also symbolizes a new economy based on God's abundance, not human scarcity. Twelve baskets of leftovers signify not just enough, but more than enough—a direct contradiction to the empire's narrative of never enough. But when food and provisions are shared there is more than enough.  As it is often said, if the aim is to meet everyone’s greed, there is will never be enough. But if the aim is to meet people’s genuine needs, there will be abundantly enough. 

Ched Myers suggests that by involving the disciples in the distribution, Jesus models a new form of leadership and community. It's a decentralized power structure where everyone participates in the miracle. This community is marked by mutual aid and sharing, a stark contrast to the top-down power dynamics of the Roman Empire.

This miracle also serves as a foretaste of the Messianic banquet, a recurring image in the Old Testament, the eschatological feast at the end of time where all are welcomed and provided for. In Psalm 23, we read, "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; my cup overflows." In Mark, the feeding of the 5,000 anticipates this overflowing abundance and the inclusive nature of God's kingdom.

And the writer of Mark’s Gospel is suggesting that as followers of Jesus, we are called to embody these kingdom values in our lives. We are called to see the needs of those around us and respond like Jesus with compassion to those in society who are like sheep without a shepherd. We are invited to participate in God's economy of abundance, where we share what we have with those in need and trust in God's provision the provision of a Higher Power. We are challenged to build communities of mutual aid and justice, where those at the bottom are empowered and lifted up reflecting the radical inclusivity and generosity of Jesus.  

A colleague of mine in South Africa used to say that the purpose of work from a Christian perspective is not simply to earn a living.  The true purpose of work from a Christian perspective is to earn a giving.  AS Christians we are called to be part of a society where our main aim in life is not simply living for our own wealth and our own comfort, but to become givers so that others around us can be raised and lifted up and enabled to become the best that they can be. 

Last year I heard Constable Martin, one of the Dromore Police Officers, speaking of these things. He has been very concerned about the number of teens in Dromore who have become directionless.  He has been trying to initiate projects where some of this directionless energy is channelled into positive ways.  One of these is the repair shop… fixing bicycles. Another is initiating sporting events during the holidays.  He is convinced that these kinds of projects have an impact. He spoke of one teenager who was becoming problematic in the town a few years ago engaging in anti-social behaviour. In befriending the teenager, he managed to get the youngster involved in a boxing academy to channel his directionless energies into some kind of discipled structure. He said it made an enormous difference in the life of that teenager, whose life he says has now begun taking on a different turn simply because he was given a little direction and a lift up at a time when he was becoming directionless and destructive. 

I wonder if that is what this story and others like it in Marks Gospel are pointing towards. The nurturing of a society where no-one is left behind. And ultimately it benefits us all when the unruly and directionless energy is channelled and nurtured and fed in positive and wholesome ways. 

Just some food for thought for us all today. Amen. 

Come Away And Rest A While -  A reflection on ​Mark 6:30-34 

In 2002 Norah Jones released a song called “Come away with me”

Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song

Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can't tempt us, with their lies
And I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high

So won't you try to come
Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountaintop

Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you
And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms

So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me

In our Gospel passage today, the context is different, but Jesus words to his disciples in verse 31 echo the words of Norah Jones (or perhaps it should be said it is the other way around), Norah Jones words echo the words of Jesus to his disciples: “Come away with me... and rest a while”

They are words that help emphasize how important it is that we should make time to re-charge our batteries. 

Jesus’ invitation to the disciples to come away with him and rest a while comes straight after two significant passages in Mark’s Gospel. Firstly it comes after the passage where Jesus sends out the 12. Secondly, it comes after the news that John the Baptist has been beheaded. 

In response to the disciples missionary journey, Jesus points out the need for them to rest and to be recharged. Jesus is in touch with their humanity and his own. He is not a slave driver. He is concerned about their well-being.  He knows that it is not possible to keep on keeping on without a break. He is in tune with the rhythm of life. There is a time to work and a time for rest. There is a time to be out engaging with the world, and there is a time for retreating from the world. 

There is a time to come away. 

Even computers need to defrag once in a while. And if we never take out cars in for a service they no longer run efficiently. 

This is true even of Jesus. In this passage, we encounter something of Jesus own humanity. He has just received news of the death of John the Baptist. Jesus needs to take time out in order to sit with his pain and his grief. 

It is a reminder that grief is not something we can escape. The only way out is through.  A hospice nurse once said that grieving is like digging through a mountain with a teaspoon. And there are no short-cuts to the other side of the mountain. 

Jesus draws aside to sit with his pain and grief at the loss of his cousin John. He does not try to avoid it. 

It is a reminder that we too have inner work that we all need to do that cannot be avoided. 

Secondly we see that even with Jesus his plans can go awry. 

While Jesus is making plans to get away, the crowds are making plans to find Jesus.  In verse 32-33 we read that Jesus and the disciples left by boat for a quiet place where they could be alone. But many people recognized them and saw them leaving, and people from many towns ran ahead along the shore and got there ahead of them. 

It all sounds a little bit like the paparazzi. 

Imagine wanting to get away for the weekend and when you arrive at your destination your clients are waiting for you in the hotel lobby! 

Jesus’ response is quite remarkable and reveals that there was something remarkable about him. It reveals his enormous capacity for compassion. 

We read in verse 34 that when Jesus saw the huge crowd as he stepped from the boat, he had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd. 

The Greek word in the passage for compassion refers to being moved in one’s gut. While he Hebrew word for compassion is taken from the root word rechem, which means womb. Both words suggest that Jesus is moved and touched in the depth of his being. There is a maternal instinct in Jesus. It is as though Jesus considers each of those in the crowd as though they were his own off-spring, his own children. They are part of the circle of Jesus love. 

Though most of us might have been tempted to tell the crowds off or to send them away, Jesus reaches out to them in love and compassion. There were plenty of other religious teachers like the Pharisees, who told the crowds that they were unclean and not good enough for God.  Jesus expresses God’s heart of love where all are embraced and included. 

And he is particularly concerned about them because he describes them as being sheep without a shepherd.  This is a phrase that can be found in multiple places in the Old Testament and refers to the failure of the of true leadership in Israel… the leaders of Israel, both secular and religious care for themselves more than for the well-being of their people. And in response to this failure in Israel’s leaders, Jesus steps in to respond with compassion as a true shepherd of the people should. 

Getting back to the theme of rest, the passage beautifully illustrates the need for balance in our lives between self-care and selfless service. Jesus acknowledges the disciples' need for rest (together with his own need for rest) and makes an intentional effort to withdraw from the demands of their ministry. This moment highlights the importance of recognizing our limitations and the necessity of taking time to recharge and renew our spirits.

Yet, when faced with the pressing needs of the crowd, Jesus is moved by compassion. He does not ignore their plight; instead, he responds with compassion. This response shows that while self-care is crucial, there are times when compassion calls us to go beyond our comfort and convenience to serve others.

How do we find this balance in our own lives? In a world that often glorifies busyness and productivity, it is easy to neglect self-care. We may feel guilty for taking time for ourselves, fearing that we are being selfish or lazy. However, this passage reminds us that rest is not a luxury but a necessity. Just as Jesus called his disciples to rest, we too must heed the call to take care of our physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being.

On the other hand, our call to serve and show compassion remains ever-present. We live in a world where the needs are great, and the cries for help are many.  Our challenge is to learn how respond to these needs without neglecting our own.

What are some practical steps we might take to help us to achieve this kind of balance: 

Firstly, to schedule regular times for rest.  We all need to make rest a regular part of our routine. Whether it's a daily quiet time, a weekly Sabbath, or using one’s annual leave wisely, iwe all need to make sure that we don’t run on empty and we have enough fuel in our tank to respond with kindness and compassion to the needs and responsibilities of life.

Secondly, listen to your body and your spirit. Pay attention to signs of fatigue, stress, and burnout. Be honest with yourself about your limits and take necessary breaks.

Thirdly, set healthy boundaries:  There is a time to say yes, but there is also a time for saying no. 

Fourthly making time for prayer and meditation: Jesus in the Gospels regularly makes time for prayer and stillness.  His example encourages us to engage in practices that enable us to remain centred and to connect with our inner selves and the Divine.  Such prayer is not just about using words. There is a time when our words need to come to an end and we hear God’s invitation to rest into the stillness of God’s presence and love. 

And so, when are the demands of life weigh heavily on us, and the needs and sufferings of others become an irritation and a burden to us, may we make time to rest so that we have enough spiritual fuel within to respond to others with  compassion.  May we respond to the invitation of Jesus “Come away with me and rest a while”. Amen.