​Matthew 9:9-13,18-26. 

What is the most courageous thing you have ever done? 

Last week I spoke of my experience climbing up  5 chain ladders up a vertical slope to get to the top of the Drakensberg mountains in South Africa and how it was one of the scariest things I have ever done.  I guess it took some courage to do that?  Maybe it was foolishness.  I was helping on a school trip and so after seeing a bunch of 11 and 12 year olds climb up ahead of me I didn’t really feel as one of the adult leaders that I could back out at that point.  

But perhaps even more than that experience, I think that stepping down as a Methodist minister and spending a year and a half at a Buddhist retreat centre was probably the most scary thing I have done.   Giving up the financial security of being in the church. If meant stepping out into the unknown. It meant giving up a familiar role.  Going beyond social expectations.  It was extremely difficult to explain to previous congregation members and family why Wendy and I were doing what we were doing?  For someone who likes to play within the rules and doesn’t like to rock the boat or colour out of the lines of life, it took an enormous amount of courage to do.  And looking back, I am very grateful that I did.  I learnt a lot about myself in those 18 months.  If I hadn’t done it I am not so sure I would have been able to go back into full-time ministry a few years later with a greater depth of insight into myself and my own faith. 

In our passage today we encounter a number of characters and each in their own way are engaged in a variety of acts of courage.

First we encounter Matthew.  His act of courage comes as he responds to the call of Jesus to follow him.  He leaves all that is familiar behind him, leaving a familiar comfortable life style. In leaving everything behind to follow Jesus, Matthew leaves behind also his wealth and financial security.  He gives his up financial status as a wealthy tax collector, to embark on a journey into the unknown with a religious teacher who was already beginning to receive some opposition. For Matthew this was surely an act of enormous courage.  

Franklin D. Roosevelt once said that "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear." 

To leave behind his life of financial comfort and security must have been a fearful thing for Matthew the Tax collector.  But perhaps in that moment he realised that there was something more important going on here than his fear that gave him the courage to do it. 

In the story, Matthew could symbolize for us the external self, the part of us entangled in the pursuits of material wealth and societal expectations. Like Matthew, we often find ourselves ensnared in the trappings of worldly desires, fixated on amassing possessions and seeking approval from others.  But they don’t answer the deeper needs of the soul and of our deeper longing for meaning, purpose, belonging and inner fulfilment. 

And so for Matthew it takes an act of courage to leave everything behind in order to pursue a life of deeper meaning and fulfilment. It was a risk, but perhaps a risk he thought was worth taking rather than sitting in the tax collectors booth for the rest of his life. 

Next in the story we encounter the Synagogue Ruler.  He is a man of status and good standing in the community, unlike Matthew who was despised.  In the case of the Synagogue Ruler, it takes courage to humble himself to seek help from Jesus, a man who many of his fellow synagogue rulers were sceptical of. But the Synagogue ruler overcomes his fear because there is more at stake than his ego and his pride.  He is desperate to see his daughter live. This desperation gives him the courage to do what under normal circumstances he would have failed to do. 

It takes courage to humble oneself enough to say to anybody… I need your help.  

Thirdly we encounter the women who is bleeding.  She is a women who has been living in the shadows of life.  Strictly speaking she was unclean and therefore shouldn’t have been out in a public place because according to the religious understanding she would make others unclean just by her presence.  It takes courage for her to come out of the closet of her house and risk being seen in public, as well as risk being told off by those who may have known who she was.  It takes courage for her to reach out and to touch the cloak of Jesus for what right did she have to do this. How presumptuous it must have seemed especially when she could be accused of making Jesus unclean by her touch. 

Fourthly,  we don’t generally consider the courage of Jesus.  But if Jesus was fully human as we are human, as all Christians, both Unitaian and Trinitarian would affirm, then Jesus too must be seen to  act with courage in this passage.  It takes courage for Jesus to be willing to be seen and identified with Matthew, the despised traitor of his own people as a Tax collector for the Roman authorities.  It takes courage for Jesus, as opposition is already growing from the religious elite, to stick to his convictions that his primary calling was not to serve the religious establishment and the respectable members of society, but to serve those who were regarded as sinners and outcasts. For Jesus it was the spiritually sick who needed him the most not those who considered themselves well. 

Lastly I wonder if the lifeless little girl in this passage might be a symbol for us of what can happen to us when we live without courage. Is it possible that a life that is lived without taking risks and locked into fear leads to a death of the spirit.   Is it possible that it might take courage to hear the voice of Christ saying, little girl arise. 

What have been some of the greatest acts of courage in your life? 

In what way might you be needing courage in your life today? 

I close with a few quotes: 

"Courage is the power to let go of the familiar." - Raymond Lindquist

Like Matthew in the passage, is courage calling you today to let go of something familiar, to ope yourself to something new? 

"Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak; courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen." - Winston Churchill

That is an interesting quote… we often think that standing up and speaking is what takes courage… and yet sometimes it might take even more courage to sit down and listen, because sitting down to listen may leave us feeling even more vulnerable than standing up and speaking. 

And then a lovely quote by Mary Anne Radmacher: 

Courage isn’t always the roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says 
‘I’ll try again tomorrow’. 

Sermon Text - Matthew 28:16-20

One of the coldest nights of my life was spent over-night in a tent on the top of the Drakensberg mountains in South Africa.  The Drakensberg is a range of mountains that range stretches approximately 1,000 kilometres (620 miles) down the Eastern side of South Africa.  It’s most majestic section forms the border between the small inland independent Kingdom of Lesotho and my home province of KwaZulu-Natal. 

The peak that we had to climb to get to the top was around 2400 meters above seal level (7874 feet).  That’s not quite 3 times as high as Slieve Donnard above sea level. 

To get to the top we had to climb a series of 5 chain ladders which amounted to a total of around 200m meters of vertical climbing (656 feet) with a hiking back-pack on one’s back.  It was one of the scariest things I have ever done.  My hands and feet were sweating and looking down as I was climbing those chain ladders was just not a good idea. I was just afraid that with all that sweat I would lose my grip. 

On top, the mountain was covered with patches of snow, and once we had reached the actual summit, the view was absolutely spectacular. 

That night we pitched our tents in between some of the patches of snow. And as I said, I have never been so cold in my life. 

Our Gospel passage today takes us up a mountain top.  It is the closing passage of Matthew’s Gospel.  According to Matthew’s Gospel, this is the first Resurrection experience of the Disciples, and also according to Matthew’s Gospel, seemingly the last moment the disciples see Jesus before his ascension?  In this passage, Jesus gives them his final instructions in what is most often called the Great Commission. 

The passage begins in verse 16 “Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them”. 

This encounter with the Risen Christ is what one might call a mountain top experience. The symbolism of meeting the Risen Christ on a mountain is significant.  In the Bible, and across many different religions and cultures, mountains are often associated with spiritual experiences. In Cartoons you will find people climbing mountains to meet a spiritual guru at the top of the mountain. 

One of my favourite is a Far Side Cartoon, which shows a Cow sitting in the Lotus Meditation Posture, giving wisdom that only a cow could give. In the caption, it reads… “In life, don’t forget to eat the flowers”. 

Another that gave me a good chuckle is a picture of a spiritual seeker at the top of the mountain asking the question “What is the meaning of Life” and the Guru with his long white beard replying  with the following caption: “You do the hokie-pokie and turn around, that’s what its all about”. 

Why are mountain tops associated with spiritual awakening and gaining new spiritual insight.  I guess for two reasons: Firstly mountain tops take you away from the hustle and bustle of life and enable one to touch the silence and the stillness.  Secondly, mountain tops give you a much bigger perspective on life.  Mountains tops give one what might be called a God’s eye view of the world.  Ordinary life begins to seem so small and insignificant when viewed from the top of the mountain.  It can help us to see just how petty and insignificant some of our personal concerns and worries and petty disagreements can be.  

This passage reminds us that mountain top experiences are important, even if we are unable to climb an actual mountain.  We all need to take time out to see life from a different perspective. One of Wendy’s favourite authors is Martha Beck.  She invites her readers to get a new perspective on their lives, not by climbing a mountain but but the simple act of writing out one’s life story firstly from the perspective of a victim, which is often a default perspective for many people. I feel like I am a victim of life, hard-done by, unfairly treated… defeated.  And then secondly she suggests writing one’s story from the perspective of a hero, one who has faced many obstacles, but who has faced them bravely and with courage and fortitude, over-coming many odds to be where one is today. 

This simple activity of writing one’s life story as a victim or as a hero can provide a whole new perspective on one’s life that can be enlightening. 

And so we find the disciples on top of a mountain.  When they see Jesus, we read that they worship him, but some of them doubted. Even on the mountain top, we can be beset with doubts. It is part of the spiritual journey, being gentle with ourselves in the midst of our doubts and our questions.  It was only a few weeks ago that we explored the question of doubt in another sermon in which we looked at the possibility that doubt is not always a bad thing. Sometimes doubts can be a necessary and even a helpful part of the journey.   On our Church Facebook page I shared a quote by Rachel Evans which reads:  “Those who say having a child-like faith means not asking questions haven't met too many children”.  If Jesus said we need to become like little children to enter the Kingdom of God, that shouldn’t mean that we have to shy away from raising our questions and expressing our doubts. 

Then in verse 18 Jesus says these words: “All authority, in heaven and earth has been given me, go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always to the end of the age”. 

I would like to make a few passing comments on some of these phrases. 

Firstly the authority of Jesus was an inner authority that came from personal experience.  He spoke with authority because he knew what he was talking about. He spoke from the place of a deep inner knowing.  And that is ultimately the goal of the spiritual journey that we too should come to an inner knowing of the truth about the true nature of life, God and our human existence.  We too should grow to discover an inner authority that comes not from second hand opinions, but from a direct experience of inner knowing. 

Secondly, we see that the way of Jesus transcends questions of nationality and geographic boundaries.  He tells them in verse 19 to make disciples of all nations.  The Greek word for nation is ethne from which we get the word ethnic.  It is a reminder that Churches or communities where Jesus is at the centre should never be identified with a single nationality or ethnic group.   A Church or Christian group that has come to be overly identified with a single nationality or country is in danger of being not truly Christian because the way of Jesus is meant to transcend nationalistic boundaries.  Make disciples of all nations says Jesus. 

Thirdly, Baptise them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. As I often point out, the word baptism means to immerse. In other words, Jesus is wishing for all people of all nations to be immersed in the Loving Way of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Many Christians would read those words, Father, Son and Holy Spirit and think of the Doctrine of the Trinity which would mean for most Protestant and Catholic Christians that there is One God in Three Persons and that Jesus is the Unique Son, the Second person of the Trinity. 

But there are other ways of interpreting those words that are different from the shared doctrine of the Trinity held by both Catholics and Protestants alike: 

The word Father can be understood as metaphorical language referring to the loving Source of all that is.  The word ‘Son’ does not necessarily have to refer to Jesus alone as the only unique Son of God.  The word can also be interpreted as a reminder that there is a divine son and a divine daughter that dwells in each and everyone of us to which each of us must awaken.  And the Phrase Holy Spirit doesn’t only have to be interpreted as being the so called 3rd person of the Trinity, but can also be interpreted as a way of speaking of the power and presence of God’s love and wisdom at work in the world and in our lives as the breathe and the wind of God’s love which animates all things and which opens us to living in the spirit of love. 

Fourthly, the mission of the disciples is to teach people of all nations to observe all that Christ has commanded.  In essence it is surely to teach others the way of Christ’s love, because that is the essence of what he taught for as Paul says, “Love is the fulfilling of the Law”.  And as any parent will know the most powerful form of teaching is always by example.  If we are to teach other people to observe all that Christ commanded, it will be best carried out by demonstrating that way of Christ’s love not just in our words but also in our actions. 

And lastly, the Gospel of Matthew ends with that wonderful promise of Christ: Behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age. It is the promise that there are no God-forsaken places in the world or the Universe.  The God, whose presence was made known in Christ is always with us, for the Divine Presence that was in Christ is also within each of our hearts. We carry the presence of God and the presence of Christ within us wherever find ourselves. Amen. 

The Flames and Breathe of Divine Love - Acts 2:1-11

A few years ago, I came across story of a couple who had fallen in love and had ended up being been married for decades despite the fact that they couldn’t speak each other’s languages.  It struck me as a remarkable story that illustrates the power of love to transcend barriers.  Searching on the internet, I couldn’t find that particular story, but came across a number of other similar stories.  

I found this story of a person called Charly who refers to the marriage of her own parents. She says that her Mom was Romanian, and her Dad was English and neither spoke each other's language for the first two years of their relationship. She describes how they got round it by drawing things, using sign language, and speaking French - a language neither of them spoke fluently. She says that humour between her parents was conveyed with silly drawings and physical humour and concludes that whatever they did, it worked, because they remained married for 28 years, until they died.

There is a similar historical story of the marriage between Eleanor, Duchess of Aquitaine and King Henry II of England during the 12th century.  Eleanor spoke the Occitan language, while Henry and the English court predominantly spoke English and French. And yet despite this Eleanor and Henry developed a deep understanding and respect for each other. They communicated through interpreters and relied on non-verbal cues, expressions, and gestures to convey their thoughts and emotions. They shared a strong bond and collaborated closely on matters of state, as Eleanor played a significant role in the governance of Henry's vast empire.

It seems that the language of love powerful and has the ability to transcend barriers between people. 

Today is Pentecost Sunday, and it is traditional on Pentecost Sunday to reflect on the story of Acts 2:1-11 which contains some wonderful and rich imagery for us to reflect on as people of faith. 

The first thing we see is the power of waiting.  In Acts chapter 1 we find the disciples joining in prayer with Mary, the Mother of Jesus together with several other women, following the instructions of the Risen Christ that they should wait in Jerusalem.  As I said in a brief online reflection last week, waiting is not always an easy time. Waiting requires patience.  It is challenging to wait. Waiting is a time of uncertainty and a period of longing.  But there is also power in waiting as it invites us to nurture our faith in a greater wisdom and to cultivate a sense of inner peace. Waiting invites us to embrace the unknown, and to trust in the unfolding of life’s wisdom. 

In this period of waiting we also see the disciples with Mary and the other unnamed women, cultivating a sense of community and belonging.  They gather together in unity and solidarity, finding solace and strength in a shared experience of devotion to prayer.  Acts chapter 1 and 2 remind us that in periods of uncertainty and waiting we can all benefit from the gift of belonging, community and prayer. 

And so at the beginning of the story of Acts 2:1-11, we find the close circle of followers of Jesus gathered together in one place.  Their waiting and the solace they have found in community bears fruit as we read that suddenly there came from heaven the sound like a mighty wind filling the whole house where they were sitting.  We read of what appeared to be tongues of fire separating and resting up each one of them, and then we read that filled with the Holy Spirit, they began to speak in other languages, and that as a result the crowds of people who had gathered in Jerusalem from all over the then known world were able to hear of the wonders of God’s goodness and love in their own languages. 

There is wonderful and rich symbolism in this passage. 

Firstly we have the rich symbolism of the sound of a mighty wind filling the whole house in which they were sitting. 

The word in the passage that is translated as wind is from the Greek word pneuma.  It is the same word we encounter in English when we speak for example of a pneumatic drill, in other words, a drill that is powered by air or ‘wind’. 

But the word pneuma in Greek can also be translated as Breathe and as Spirit.  And so as we read of the sound of a rushing wind it invites the reader to have a sense of the movement of the power of God’s Spirit at work in the hearts and lives of those gathered together in prayer. It also might speak of the breathe of God’s love, breathing over them and into them, breathing new life and energy into their mission. 

Pneuma reminds us that God's transforming love is like a gentle breath, comforting and invigorating. Just as a breath can revive and revitalize, God's love breathes life into our weary souls, awakening us to new possibilities and empowering us to live as agents of positive change. It is through the pneuma, the divine breath, that we are able to embody the transforming love of God in our lives.

The second imagery and symbolism we encounter in the passage in that of a flame that separates and comes to rest of the heads of each of those gathered there together, a metaphor and an image of the fire of Divine Love – a  love that transcends all boundaries and barriers. Just as fire spreads and illuminates, so does divine love reaches every corner of our being, filling us with warmth, light, and a sense of connectedness. The tongues of fire on the heads of the disciples symbolises hearts that have been ignited with warmth and love and a new sense of purpose and minds that have become illuminated with a new depth of insight and wisdom that is fuelled by the love.

The combined imagery of the rushing wind and the flames of fire remind us that divine love is not a passive force but an active, transforming energy. It ignites our hearts, awakening us to compassion and empathy. It compels us to reach out to others, to extend a helping hand, and to foster understanding and reconciliation.

And this takes us to the very powerful imagery of the disciples being empowered to speak in other languages. 

Acts 2:4 states, "And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance." And a few verses later, we read of how those who had gathered in Jerusalem from all around the then known world, are amazed to hear the wonders of God’s goodness and love being spoken in their own languages. 

It suggests that as the wind or the breathe of God’s love blows over us and within us, and as the fire of God’s love is ignited within our hearts and minds so God’s language of love enables us to reach out towards others bridging the gaps of language, culture, and experience, enabling us to understand and be understood, fostering empathy, compassion, and deep connection.

It is a reminder that sin, hatred, evil brings separation and division. But love unites, heals, crosses barriers and brings people together. 

On this Pentecost Sunday, may the wind or breathe of God’s love blow over us and within us. And may the fire of God’s love and wisdom be ignited within our hearts and within our minds that we too may speak God’s language of love which transcends all boundaries and barriers, filling us with warmth, light, and moving us to reach out towards others, even with those who might seem different from ourselves. Amen. 

​Waiting and Belonging: A Reflection on Acts 1:12-14

Acts 1:12-14 portrays a scene of waiting and unity within the early Christian community. After the ascension of Jesus, the disciples return to Jerusalem and devote themselves to prayer. In this reflection, we will explore the themes of waiting and belonging as depicted in these verses and contemplate their significance for us today.

The Power of Waiting: According to the unfolding story, Acts 1:12-14 highlights the period of waiting that the disciples experienced between the ascension of Jesus and the arrival of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Waiting can be a challenging and uncertain time, filled with anticipation and longing. As people of faith, we recognize the value of waiting as a spiritual practice. It is during these moments of patience and reflection that we can deepen our understanding, nurture our faith, and cultivate a sense of inner peace. Waiting invites us to embrace the unknown and trust in the unfolding of life's mysteries.

The Challenge of Waiting: Waiting can be a difficult and demanding process. In Acts 1:12-14, we witness the disciples enduring a period of uncertainty and longing. Similarly, in our own lives, we encounter seasons of waiting—waiting for answers, waiting for healing, waiting for justice. Waiting challenges us to practice patience and resilience. It invites us to trust in the timing of life and to find meaning in the waiting itself. In these moments, we can draw strength from the example of the disciples and the knowledge that we are not alone in our waiting.

Community and Belonging: In Acts 1:12-14, we see the disciples coming together in unity and solidarity. They find solace and strength in their shared experience and devotion to prayer. As people of faith, we affirm the importance of community and belonging. We understand that we are not solitary individuals but interconnected beings, reliant on one another for support, growth, and spiritual nourishment. In our congregations and communities, we strive to create spaces of inclusivity, where all can find a sense of belonging and acceptance, regardless of their backgrounds or beliefs.

Prayer as a Source of Strength: Prayer is a central element in Acts 1:12-14, serving as a means for the disciples to connect with the divine and seek guidance. Christians of different varieties approach prayer in diverse ways, recognizing its potential as a personal and communal practice. Whether through meditation, reflection, or shared rituals, prayer can offer solace, clarity, and inspiration. It provides us with a space to express gratitude, share our hopes and fears, and seek guidance as we navigate life's challenges. Prayer serves as a source of strength, grounding us in our spiritual journey and fostering a sense of connection with the sacred.

And so, Acts 1:12-14 offers a profound reflection on waiting, belonging, and the power of prayer within the early Christian community. As people of faith, we resonate with these themes, recognizing the value of waiting, the importance of community, and the transformative potential of prayer. May we find inspiration in the disciples' example as we navigate our own seasons of waiting, cultivate spaces of belonging, and nurture our spiritual lives through prayer. In doing so, may we discover a deeper sense of connection, purpose, and peace. Amen. 

​Communion Sunday Reflection - 


As I was preparing for today’s Communion Service I looked up some quotes on the theme of bread as well as eating meals. I found these three wonderful quotes that are particularly interesting when we contemplate upon them in light of our service of Holy Communion. 

The first is by the English poet Robert Browning who wrote:  “If thou tastest a crust of bread, thou tastest all the stars and all the heavens”.  This is very similar to a quote by the late Vietnamese Zen teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh, who used to say “This bread in your hand, is the body of the cosmos”   If you eat it mindfully, you will get in touch with the soil, the sunshine and the rain. 

And secondly an anonymous quote: 

“The family that eats together stays together”. I wonder what that could mean in the context of the church family gathered at the table of Christ sharing Communion together.  “The family that eats together stays together”. 

And then lastly a quote from Barbara Colorose

“There is something profoundly satisfying about sharing a meal. Eating together, breaking bread together is one of the oldest and most fundamentally unifying of human experiences.”

Today, instead of a sermon, I would like to read an extract from Khalil Gibran’s book called Jesus the Son of Man.  The whole book is a profound meditation on Jesus the Man… Jesus the Human Being.  In it he reveals a depth of insight into Jesus, the Human One, as well as the spiritual depths of Jesus heart and life, that has come from many many years of creative and imaginative reflection and meditation on the 4 Gospels.  

This extract is written from the perspective of SIMON, WHO WAS CALLED PETER, when He and His Brother were first Called by Jesus.  At the heart of this reflection, we see Jesus in the family home of Peter, sharing a meal with Peter and his family.  And as we listen to it, I invite all of us to listen to it, in light of the fact that this morning, we gather at the table of Christ to share a meal with him.  The extract from Khalil Gibran reads as follows: 

I was on the shore of the Lake of Galilee when I first beheld Jesus my Lord and my Master.

My brother Andrew was with me and we were casting out net into the waters.

The waves were rough and high and we caught but few fish. And our hearts were heavy.

Suddenly Jesus stood near us, as if He had taken form that very moment, for we had not seen Him approaching.

He called us by our names, and He said, “If you will follow me I will lead you to an inlet where the fishes are swarming.”

And as I looked at His face the net fell from my hands, for a flame kindled within me and I recognized Him.

And my brother Andrew spoke and said, “We know all the inlets upon these shores, and we know also that on a windy day like this the fish seek a depth beyond our nets.”

And Jesus answered, “Follow me to the shores of a greater sea. I shall make you fishers of men. And your net shall never be empty.”

And we abandoned our boat and our net and followed Him.

I myself was drawn by a power, viewless, that walked beside His person.

I walked near Him, breathless and full of wonder, and my brother Andrew was behind us, bewildered and amazed.

And as we walked on the sand I made bold and said unto Him, “Sir, I and my brother will follow your footsteps, and where you go we too will go. But if it please you to come to our house this night, we shall be graced by your visit. Our house is not large and our ceiling not high, and you will sit at but a frugal meal. Yet if you will abide in our hovel it will be to us a palace. And would you break bread with us, we in your presence were to be envied by the princes of the land.”

And He said, “Yea, I will be your guest this night.”

And I rejoiced in my heart. And we walked behind Him in silence until we reached our house.

And as we stood at the threshold Jesus said, “Peace be to this house, and to those who dwell in it.”

Then He entered and we followed Him.

My wife and my wife’s mother and my daughter stood before Him and they worshipped Him; then they knelt before Him and kissed the hem of His sleeve.

They were astonished that He, the chosen and the well beloved, had come to be our guest; for they had already seen Him by the River Jordan when John the Baptist had proclaimed Him before the people.

And straightway my wife and my wife’s mother began to prepare the supper.

My brother Andrew was a shy man, but his faith in Jesus was deeper than my faith.

And my daughter, who was then but twelve year old, stood by Him and held His garment as if she were in fear He would leave us and go out again into the night. She clung to Him like a lost sheep that has found its shepherd.

Then we sat at the board, and He broke the bread and poured the wine; and He turned to us saying, “My friends, grace me now in sharing this food with me, even as the Father has graced us in giving it unto us.”

These words He said (before) ere He touched a morsel, for He wished to follow an ancient custom that the honoured guest becomes the host.

And as we sat with Him around the board we felt as if we were sitting at the feast of the great King.

My daughter Petronelah, who was young and unknowing, gazed at His face and followed the movements of His hands. And I saw a veil of tears in her eyes.

When He left the board we followed Him and sat about Him in the vine-arbour.

And He spoke to us and we listened, and our hearts fluttered within us like birds.

He spoke of the second birth of man, and of the opening of the gates of the heavens; and of angels descending and bringing peace and good cheer to all men, and of angels ascending to the throne bearing the longings of men to the Lord God.

Then He looked into my eyes and gazed into the depths of my heart. And He said, “I have chosen you and your brother, and you must needs come with me. You have laboured and you have been heavy-laden. Now I shall give you rest. Take up my yoke and learn of me, for in my heart is peace, and your soul shall find abundance and a home-coming.”

When He spoke thus I and my brother stood up before Him, and I said to Him, “Master, we will follow you to the ends of the earth. And if our burden were as heavy as the mountain we would bear it with you in gladness. And should we fall by the wayside we shall know that we have fallen on the way to heaven, and we shall be satisfied.”

And my brother Andrew spoke and said, “Master, we would be threads between your hands and your loom. Weave us into the cloth if you will, for we would be in the raiment of the Most High.”

And my wife raised her face, and the tears were upon her cheeks and she spoke with joy, and she said, “Blessed are you who come in the name of the Lord. Blessed is the womb that carried you, and the breast that gave you milk.”

And my daughter, who was but twelve years old, sat at His feet and she nestled close to Him.

And the mother of my wife, who sat at the threshold, said no word. She only wept in silence and her shawl was wet with her tears.

Then Jesus walked over to her and He raised her face to His face and He said to her, “You are the mother of all these. You weep for joy, and I will keep your tears in my memory.”

And now the old moon rose above the horizon. And Jesus gazed upon it for a moment, and then He turned to us and said, “It is late. Seek your beds, and may God visit your repose. I will be here in this arbour until dawn. I have cast my net this day and I have caught two men; I am satisfied, and now I bid you good-night.”

Then my wife’s mother said, “But we have laid your bed in the house, I pray you enter and rest.”

And He answered her saying, “I would indeed rest, but not under a roof. Suffer me to lie this night under the canopy of the grapes and the stars.”

And she made haste and brought out the mattress and the pillows and the coverings. And He smiled at her and He said, “Behold, I shall lie down upon a bed twice made.”

Then we left Him and entered into the house, and my daughter was the last one to enter. And her eyes were upon Him until I had closed the door.

Thus for the first time I knew my Lord and Master.

And though it was many years ago, it still seems but of today.

And on this Communion Sunday, I repeat just a few lines again: 

...He broke the bread and poured the wine; and He turned to us saying, “My friends, grace me now in sharing this food with me, even as the Father has graced us in giving it unto us.”

These words He said (before) ere He touched a morsel, for He wished to follow an ancient custom that the honoured guest becomes the host.

And as we sat with Him around the board we felt as if we were sitting at the feast of the great King.  Amen. 

Cross Community Kindness and Compassion 
Luke 10:25-37

Our passage today is most often referred to as the Parable of the Good Samaritan.  It is normally upheld as a story encouraging us to be kind and compassionate towards others, and indeed that is true.  

What we don’t always fully understand is how radical this parable of Jesus would have been in Jesus’ own day. It is more than just a story about a random act of kindness.  It is a story of radical cross-community compassion. It is also a story of showing love and care, even to an enemy. 

We know the passage well.  A scribe is trying to discredit Jesus.  He asks Jesus to summarise the essence of his teaching. Jesus obliges, telling him the essence of it is about Loving God and Loving One’s Neighbour as oneself. 

The scribe wants to justify himself… who is my neighbour he asks Jesus? 

Jesus tells the story of a fellow Jew who is set upon by a band of robbers, assaulted, robbed, and left to die. 

As he lies dying on the side of the road, the man is ignored by his fellow Jews.  Interestingly, he is not ignored by just any Jews. He is ignored by some of the most well respected religious Jews of the day.  He is ignored firstly by a Priest.  Secondly he is ignored by a Levite. 

The priests held exclusive rights to serve at the sacrificial altar and in the outer and inner sanctum of the temple.

The Levites were a kind of second tier group of people who also worked in the Temple and took responsibilities of non-priestly tasks like singing, guarding the temple, and other secondary tasks and  work (Num 3-4; 1Chr 23-26).

The priest and Levite in the story therefore represent the religious elite, or the religious establishment.  They were in a sense the guardians of the faith.  They were the mediators between God and the Jewish people. 

In the story, these two very religious people, ignore the man who has been assaulted, robbed, stripped naked and left to die. 

We are told that they cross over to the other side of the road.  And as we read that we imagine perhaps one of the roads in Dromore or Banbridge.  If you had to pass on by on the other side of the road there would be a good few meters between you and the person.  And so the Priest and the Levite attempt to distance themselves from the dying man. It gives the impression that they perhaps tried to avoid seeing how serious the situation was.  Perhaps he was just a drunk who didn’t deserve their help. Perhaps if they were looking the other way, they could create the impression that they hadn’t really seen the man at all and they could go on their way pretending to themselves that it really wasn’t as bad as it seemed or that he didn’t really need their help?

But Rob Bell reminds us that the parable is set on the road from Jericho to Jerusalem. According to Rob Bell the road between Jericho and Jerusalem was an extremely narrow and treacherous one that wound up through the mountains.  At the most, this road was only a few feet wide.  To avoid the man, the Priest and Levite would have almost have had to step over him, perhaps to push themselves up against the side of the mountain to squeeze past the dying man on the road.    There is something far more deliberate about this kind of avoidance than walking past a few meters away on the other side of a wide and busy road.  

Then a third character enters the story. He is described as a Samaritan. 

We don’t understand the parable fully, until we know what the relationship was between Jews and Samaritans. 

The Samaritan and Jews shared a common past.  At one time in the distant past they were one people.  The Samaritans were the descendants of the Israelites in the north.  But after the north was conquered by the Assyrians over many generations, the Samaritans intermarried with their conquerors. They became half-breeds in the eyes of the Jews. 

But they also shared many religious commonalities.  Jews and Samaritans both shared some common Scriptures.  Samaritans accepted the first five books of the Bible, Genesis, Exodus, Numbers Leviticus and Deuteronomy.  But the Jews had added extra books including the history of their kings and the writings of the prophets and some wisdom writings and psalms. 

They shared similar religious practices, making sacrifices in a temple. But the Samaritan Temple was on Mount Gerezim and the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem.  The Samaritans believed that the worship of the Jews had new innovations and was illegitimate.  Likewise, the Jews believed that the Samaritans were no longer worshipping the true God or upholding the purity or the fullness of the faith. 

Jews and Samaritans shared a lot in common.  Both had ancestral claims to the land in some way or another. They lived in neighbouring towns and villages but as much as possible avoided one another.  To an outside the differences probably seemed small, but to the Jews and Samaritans, their differences probably felt enormous. 

And so they were rivals.  They had rival claims. They had rival religions.  They had rival traditions. They looked down upon one-another.  At one time, the Samaritans had even supported the Seleucid army when they came in and attacked Jerusalem and desecrated the Jewish Temple. And so walls of bitterness and hatred were erected on both sides and did nothing but harden over a period of around 550 years and perhaps going back even further.

And yet, in the story of Jesus, it is the foreigner, the stranger, the rival, the hated Samaritan who reveals what it really means to be a neighbour to the Jew who was attacked and left for dead on the side of the road.  

Not only does the Samaritan stop. He uses his own water and oil to wash, clean tend and bind up the man’s wounds. He puts him on his own donkey, he takes him to a place where he can receive the further care he needs, and then promises to pay for it himself.  This is an act not just of compassion, but of generosity too. 
 
I imagine most of us would probably, hopefully do this for a family member or a close friend?  Would we do it for a stranger? Someone from our own community?  What about someone from a different community?  A foreigner? Someone who is different from ourselves?  Would we do it for a rival? Would we do it for an enemy? 

At the end of the story, Jesus asks the Scribe? 

“Which of these three do you think was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

The expert in the law replied, “The one who showed mercy towards him.”

And Jesus replied, “Go and do likewise.” “Go, and do the same”.