Isaiah 55:1-9
Psalm 63:1-8
1 Corinthians 10:1-13
Luke 13:1-9

In baseball there is a rule that says that if the game is two thirds of the way through the 9 innings of a full game, and one team is 10 runs ahead of the other, the game is called off. The leading team is declared the victor. It is known as the mercy rule. One team is saved the ignominy of having to continue and complete the encounter when the victor is obviously apparent. The defeat and annihilation does not have to be so drawn out. Some grace is shown towards the vanquished in an obvious mismatch. I think we could come up with many other examples in sport where there could be a mercy rule applied. My football team would make it a habit of only playing three quarters and not a full game.

Mercy.

Mercy is a quality we see in God. We pray, “merciful God”. It is a quality we are expected to show. Mercy is the quality that is the subject of our readings today. It is a also appropriate to reflect upon mercy in our own Lenten journey this year – and it is also relevant to our history here at the Church of All Nations.

Mercy – so what is it?

Mercy is not the same as forgiveness. Forgiveness is wiping the slate clean; blotting out wrongdoing and sinfulness. Forgiveness is as if something never happened. Mercy does not avoid the consequences of an action, but there is applied some grace and understanding. In the Old Testament, mercy is a covenant word. A word that is related to God and the Children of Israel keeping their promises. “I am your God, you are my people; keep my law, and I will watch over you.” Mercy is shown if the law is not kept - although the law still stands and its keeping is still expected. In our sporting illustration. The victor still wins, the loser still looses – although the process of getting to that point is a little more – well, merciful. Mercy indeed comes from that group of Hebrew words associated with hesed. A word we usually translate as “lovingkindness”. It is a quality of God to show this mercy.

Our readings today emphasise mercy, the mercy of God.

The Isaiah reading is a passage of abundant joy and exuberance. A passage in which the children of Israel are reminded that even though they had forsaken the covenant, and been taken to their Babylonia exile, God was still their God and would deal generously with them. The image is indeed a banquet, a meal – a meal we indeed recall in our service of Holy Communion this morning. Verse 7, however, then says

“Let the wicked forsake their ways, and the unrighteous their thoughts:

Let them return to the Lord, that God may have mercy on them, and to our God, for God will abundantly pardon.”

God will show mercy.

Our passage from Luke is also fundamentally about God’s mercy. Jesus begins by addressing the perennial, and one is tempted to say the immature view of God, that when bad things happen to people it is simply God acting, punishing people because they have sinned. This is a very mechanistic view of who God is. Jesus addresses that view with reference to two contemporary incidents in his homeland. The first is a rather gruesome exercise of imperial power in which the blood of some slain Galileans is mixed in Pilates own worship of the Imperial cult. The second concerned a failure of building regulations, or perhaps an earth tremor, who knows, but a tower in Jerusalem collapsed killing eighteen people. Jesus simply asks are all these folk any worse than others - or more pointedly are these people any worse than you or I. Are we this day any better or worse than the good people of Chile or Haiti. Jesus emphaticially says No. However, he still emphasises all have sinned and all should repent. Our sinning still has consequences.

It is in this context he tells then the story or parable of mercy.

The story itself is simple enough. A man has a fig tree, a mature fig tree. There are no figs on it. He orders that it be chopped down. A fig is apparently can have two seasons a year – and not having any, would be very disappointing. Why would he keep it – get rid of it. The gardener – some early greenie or environmentalist – pleaded that this not be the case. Another chance should be given. Give it a good dig, apply some manure – give it a lot of care and attention. Let us see what might happen. Well we don’t know what happens – but at that point, the gardener’s words seem to determine the mater:

“If it bears fruit next year, well and good, but if not, you can cut it down.”

Mercy is shown. Another chance is given. The ultimate consequence is still mentioned. The tree may be chopped down. In the meantime there is an opportunity given to turn the situation around. There is a stay of execution. Economic rationalism does not triumph . . immediately.

Mercy is frequently and usefully concretely expressed as time – extra time we are given. As we say in our more traditional prayers of confession – we pray for time for the amendment of life. Not only do we seek forgiveness of our sins – we seek time, time to turn our lives around.

Such is a good way to focus our thinking during this period of Lent. It is not so much what you may give up – and then come Easter immediately resume consumption of coffee or chocolate or cream puffs or what ever. What does God’s mercy mean for you? How may you - positively – amend your life, so that you may live with integrity and congruence with the way of Christ. WE do have God’s mercy to do this.

Dramatically we may do this if we have been told we, or a loved one, only has a short time to live. “It is an aggressive cancer, these will be the effects, and we would expect you, at your age to live for another three months.” What would you do? When my father received such a prognosis, we went on a road trip together - just to visit the places where he had live, where he had ministered. We said hello to people – but it was more of a farewell. In short we tried to do the things we would regret if we had not done them before he died. It was difficult, but it was good. . . . I trust with lasting consequences for my father and my self.

Indeed have you noticed the increasing number of books out now with titles like – 1000 places to visit before you die, or 1000 things to do, or eat or drink .. . before you die, or the like. Books, may I suggest, true secular books, simply reminding us that the goal in life is not a life full of our obsessions or a frantic pace to attain a career or things or whatever, or maintain a life of utter despair and worry. Rather life should be regraded as being merciful, God is merciful – we are given time to refocus our priorities and values and we can do it.

In Lent we can consider God’s mercy, being the extra year we have been given to do a bit o digging around the base of our lives and actually feeding our lives appropriately.

Every person I have ever spoke to who has been given a reprieve - they were not expected to live through the heart attack, or the cancer or accident, and yet they survived, says they now live life differently. Mercy, if we can understand it, gives us a new life and energy and hope.

So this week what has such a theme got to do with this theme we are also examining in the lead up to our anniversary on the 7^th April. Yes mercy is what we should show in our life together. Quite simply I wish to suggest that the great heritage and mission we have here at Carlton, at this time is through the mercy of God.

At one level our history is remarkably sad, even tragic. David through his research has discerned that at the beginning of the 20^th century were 10 churches representing protestant denominations of the Methodist, Presbytery and Congregational churches in Carlton and North Carlton and there now only remains one – this congregation, Church of All Nations. Now some of those congregations, like the fig tree in the parable, were chopped down, not so much because they were unfruitful, but because there were church unions within Methodism and even within Presbyterianism. Bible Christians, Primitive Methodists and Wesleyan Methodists (this congregation began as a Wesley Methodist) all merged in 1902. This was good news about our unity in Christ, and not of decline and unfruitfulness. However, there were still lean, very lean periods, and the very future of our congregation’s cause in Carlton was in question. The early 1960’s was one such period in which the congregation had declined to such and extent its very viability was being debated. And, as we know, mercy, was shown. This was at the time of the appointment of Rev Norman Lowe. The tree was tended, fertilizer was applied and it grew and prospered. We began our ministry with the Estate, we became the Church of All Nations. We showed mercy within the community. Such mercy unleashed a great fruitful time.

Today in the Uniting Church we agonise over the vibrancy and the energy of Christ’s church. We wonder whether it is able to survive. We spend a lot of time on considering whether a congregation may survive, or should it merge or whatever. Such thoughts may even been cast over our life here. We as a denomination perhaps do not spend enough time, or do we as a congregation spend enough time, considering that in fact we are here today because of the mercy of God. Mercy was been extended – and shouldn’t that be reflected in our new life and energy, like the prisoner reprieved or the heart transplant patient or the fig tree and the gardener of the parable.

Mercy is not just a passive thing for us to soak up - as Isaiah shows it call for celebration and action. Mercy is a theme of our church and its life.

by Rev Dr John Evans

Genesis 15:1-12, 17-18
Psalm 27
Philippians 3:17-4:1
Luke 13:31-35

Today in our journeying towards Easter through this season of Lent and at the same time journeying to the celebration marking the establishment our congregation 150 years ago, I want to consider the role and the place of faith. Faith, like the faith of Abraham, which became the great model for Paul in his letter to the Romans and we read about today. And the faith of our forebears here at Church of All Nations is also important.

However, first some history. Like many new congregations we began as an offshoot of another congregation – this time the Lonsdale St, Wesley Church. Our congregation first met on Easter Saturday, 1860 – 7 April - in William Jones’ shop on Lygon St, just north of Grattan Street. Already this land had been acquired, and it would not be long before the first brick church was built on this site – indeed next door to the church today, where the Can Centre now stands. To begin with we were just a part of the Melbourne West Circuit; however, in 1865 the first minister was assigned to the Carlton Wesleyan Church.

All of this is just by way of introduction to one of the most marvellous quotes that comes from the commemorative book that David, Paul and others have been working on. The first minister specifically for our congregation was the Reverend Ebenezer Taylor. The Carlton Jubilee Souvenir, celebrating 50 years here, said this of our friend Ebenezer:

“A man of simplicity and Godly sincerity, his few talents were so employed that he was much more useful than some ministers who have had many talents.”

Just in case you are a little worried here, old Ebenezer was dead when these comments were written.

“A man of simplicity and Godly sincerity, his few talents were so employed that he was much more useful than some ministers who have had many talents.”

Here was our first minister; not quite an auspicious description of one of our founders – however, through this man “with few talents”, although we assume with a deep faith (his Godly sincerity), we became established in those early years.

Abram, as he was then known, was called by God in a vision to found a new community of God’s people; to actually begin a family and through these descendants and their descendants, emerge as new nation.  The only trouble was Abram was very old, his wife Sarai also was old and indeed had been barren. It would seem the Abram was a little like our friend Ebenezer, he lacked a little in the talent department; especially the talent department for establishing a mighty nation more numerous the stars.

Abram and Sarai however, had faith; Ebenezer also had faith (or as it was said “through simplicity and Godly sincerity”) at the beginning of our life together. Abraham had faith this promise would come to pass – and it did. Isaac was born. Indeed our writer suggests that this faith was “reckoned to him as righteousness by God”. Certainly the apostle Paul seized on this quote in our reading from Romans, to show in his argument that indeed what we believe, have faith in, is more significant than what we might do – especially in the keeping of religious law and ritual.

However, I jump ahead.

What is this thing called faith. F.A.I.T.H. Are we talking just about the faith, the Christian faith  - what Christian say they believe – a body of principles and rules; and what may that have to do with my faith, what I actually believe. But what is faith anyway? Is faith opposite to doubt? Now we may all have doubts, nagging doubts – perhaps over the story that a man almost 100 and his wife of 90 could have a child. Sarah’s falling down in laughter would perhaps be our response too. So does doubt negate faith – or can there still be some underlying faith. Or is faith the opposite of reason . . . rationality, or science. Is faith something you have or you have to appeal to when you cannot seem to prove or establish something by any other means? Faith just fulls the gaps in our lives. And then we might say faith is not even filling the gaps – it is blind faith. There is no reliance at all on our senses or what we might experience.

Today I want to suggest that faith is really just another way of knowing. How do you know something – how do you know you know something? You might say, I know it because I see it or hear it with my own eyes or ears. But then I guess you have to trust, have faith in, your own eyes and ears that you are seeing or hearing correctly. Belief and faith pop up everywhere – and not just when we think of spiritual or religious matters. To use the contemporary example of climate change. Science we thought once was science – but it is clear for some they do not believe in climate science. In fact we use the word to describe them is sceptics. There are believers and non believers about all sorts of things – even science. Indeed everything in our life has an element of faith.

It may thus be helpful to ask a different sort of question. Why is it that you have faith in something? What is the purpose of faith? As I stand here I have faith in this lectern and its structure – it is not going to collapse when I lean on it. It is a reasonably grounded faith – I have leant on it before and it didn’t collapse, it looks substantial, sounds substantial. I have faith in the strength of this lectern. My faith leads me confidently to stand in front of you and address you . . . my faith leads to something – it leads to some action. You see, if I had no faith in this lectern, like someone during the night might have booby trapped it, or that it will collapse because of white ants – my lack of faith would lead me to behave very differently. I would become anxious, nervous – I think it would show. Literally would say I lacked confidence. . . an English word joing the Latin words – “with” and “faith”.

We see the importance of faith starkly when we say we have faith, or might use the word trust, in people. We have faith in, we trust, our children, or spouse or the pilot of the plane or our insulation installer to use a topical vocation. We trust our children  - say as we pack them off to school or university or whatever, because we see no future in us treating our children just as little robots, always being under our control and direction; and us always having to check up on them. The goal actually is to have a relationship with them as an adult to and adult: in which you love them and they love you out of their own free will.  If there is no faith or trust in each other, the relationship is different. It becomes hedged around with conditions (now come home by 11 pm or else); or it’s forged only out of grudging duty, or even worse, fear.

So what do we make of faith or trust in God? Perhaps it is that there are just the inexplicable things within this world of ours that lead you to feelings, and ideas, that must come from beyond yourself. The beauty of a sunrise or sunset; the heart melting smile of a child; the amazing strength, even beauty, of love between two people, or courage, or loyalty; or the haunting sound of a bird, or of a cello, or the sea, or perhaps it is the patterns within the chaos of life or so on. We who gather here are spiritual people – and have had surely had such moments - and those moments lead you to ponder, and indeed trust, to have faith, there is a God.  … indeed a God of Abraham and Sarah and Isaac. And why would we have such a trust or faith in God? Well we would wish to have this trust or faith because it is seen to be a good thing of which you want to be a part of, you want to enjoy these things of which I have just spoken, or as the old catechism says – ‘you want to enjoy God forever”. We want to have, like with our children, faith in God, so there may be a relationship with God. Indeed at the beginning of our passage from Genesis – this relationship is described: God says “I am your shield, I am your reward – your reward will be very great”.

I suspect all of this is a bit abstract – waffly – but let us look back at what Genesis 15 said about Abraham’s faith, and what Paul in turn said of him and this faith. His faith in this relationship remained – even when it was revealed that it might take a strange turn, and  he would be a father of a mighty nation. As Paul says of Abraham – in Romans 4 “he did not weaken in faith when he considered his own body, which was already as good as dead – for he was about a hundred years old, or when he considered the barrenness of Sarah’s womb.” Abraham’s faith was trusting utterly. He believed the promise and power of God. Paul indeed says it is like our faith in Jesus himself. With Abraham – when there seemed no future for this ancient near eastern family, out of seeming death – there came life, descendants, and a future. This was faith – not in our ability, or our deeds, or our actions; but faith in that relationship that Abraham believed existed between himself and God. Faith leads to a shield and a reward – God in turn would be faithful to the vision Abraham had had. To briefly close the circle. Faith in Christ also establishes a relationship with God who offers life out of death, and offers us a future. A relationship of resurrection and new life, not death and emptiness.

Certainly for me, the alternative to faith, or trust in God through Christ, is difficult to contemplate. (What if I had not believed that I should see the good ness of the Lord in the land of the living! Psalm 27: 13) I am left alone; I am left to my own devices. Am I left with, for example just ceaseless activity, so that I may feel satisfied in who I am – because I only trust, or have faith in myself. I do not trust others - and if you remember what happened if I did not trust this lectern, I can develop anxiety, worry and the like. I lack confidence.  Faith in a spiritual dimension to life becomes important.

So Paul concludes it is through our trust in God, our trust in God’s love and goodness, which brings about our relationship with God – and not our works or frenzied activity. This is our righteousness, our being right, our being justified, with God . . . words and concepts all with associated with having meaning in our life. Abraham believed God and that there could life out of death,. This was reckoned to him as righteousness.

Our friend Ebenezer it would seem had a simple faith – but not much in the talent or works department. It would seem faith sustained him – but such also became the basis of this congregation.

Faith - trust, belief is the basis of all our relationships. It is also the basis of our relationship with the divine – God.  Faith is the bedrock of our lives, and faith in God is the bedrock for any congregation.

on Sunday 21 February, 2010

Deuteronomy 26:1-11
Psalm 91:1-2, 9-16
Romans 10:8b-13
Luke 4:1-13

Today we begin two journeys.

The first is our annual Lenten journey with Christ into his passion, death and then at Easter his resurrection. We are called again to reflect on what this means for us – who we are as his followers; what it means to be his church. This year however, we commence another journey – a journey to our congregation’s 150th anniversary - which we will celebrate just the Sunday after Easter on the 11th of April. On that journey, what have we learnt from the past that might guide us into the future?  Through this season of Lent we will refer to both of these journeys, and endeavour to draw inspiration for our life today from both God’s grace shown to us in Christ’s own journey to Jerusalem, and our journey as a congregation.

Our readings today, for this first Sunday of Lent, neatly set the scene and set some basic principles for this journey we will make together. To shortly state those conclusions: our history here in Carlton is important. God remains with us. We are not alone. However, God’s grace continues to surprise and challenge. Are we open to our history and what god may be saying to us?

The Old Testament reading is a wonderful historical narrative or summary.

History, the writing of history, is of course problematic. Much ink is spilled today over whether one can actually write history - is there in fact, historical truth? Isn’t all history just tainted with the biases and the prejudices, or world view of the writer? So there might be the “black arm band” of Australian history with its imperial theme and its savage treatment of indigenous people; or, so the argument goes, a more balanced, less jaundiced view of Australian history exists.  Perhaps a more significant question however for our Old Testament passage, and indeed ourselves, is how do we use history whether it is perfectly or imperfectly told.

Some believe that only by understanding the past can a nation or a society come to terms with its own identity and its own future. Francis Bacon, for example, was of the opinion that “histories make men and women wise.” On the other hand, the Victorian writer Charles Kingsley believed that “history is a pack of lies”. A view of course made famous by Henry Ford, when he said “history is bunk”. Which is perhaps just another way of saying we do not use history well. The celebrated philosopher Georg Wilhelm Hegel laid down this pessimistic axiom:

“What experience and history teach is this—that people and governments never have learned anything from history, or acted on principles deduced from it.”

Or as George Santayana wrote, those who “cannot remember their past are doomed
to repeat it.”

The Old Testament, especially with respect to the book of Deuteronomy and that great history of the books of Joshua through second Kings (excluding Ruth), is however, clear on this issue The basic assumption is that the memory of the community of faith not only allows each generation of God’s people to relive God’s great deeds of redemption in the past, but opens them up to God’s continuing activity in their own lives. What is more, it is through their common memory that the integrity, the wholeness, of the community is retained across the generations. Our historian says

“Recite [the traditions of Israel] to your children and talk about them when you are at home and when you are away, when you lie down and when you rise.” (Deut. 6:7)

Deuteronomy knows that when a people forgets its past, it loses both its present and its future.

It is no accident that Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomistic History contain three important passages that many scholars believe to have been creedal statements originally spoken in a context of public worship. As such, these texts provided the ancient Israelite with an opportunity to re-impress on himself or herself, and on his or her family, an awareness of the presence of God in their lives and an awareness of who they were as people. Today’s reading is one of these texts. (Notice also Deut. 6:20–25 and Josh. 24:1–28).

The setting for Deut. 26:1–11 is the springtime harvest festival, an occasion for celebrating God’s gift of the fruitfulness of the earth. According to the instructions at the beginning of the passage, the worshiper is to come to the sanctuary bringing as a gift to God a basket containing a portion of the actual harvest. In effect the worshipper returns to God a small part of that which God’s grace has bestowed on them.

The heart of the passage is a recital of Israel’s history, beginning from the time of Israel’s earliest ancestors and continuing until the settlement in the Land of Promise. Throughout this brief but revealing text, emphasis is placed on the grace of God, who, in response to
the cries of the people, saved them when they were unable to save themselves. From a situation of danger and oppression in an alien land, God brought them to safety in their own home. The basket of produce in the hands of the worshiper is itself evidence of God’s continuing care of the people in their land.

Thus the moment celebrates the past. It also rejoices in the people’s future under the benevolent rule of their God. This history reinforces within the community of faith its
its own identity. And in like manner the Christian faith is also based on the collective memory of the people of Christ (1 Cor. 11:24), and it goes without saying that the
church’s memory—its creeds, if you will—celebrates God’s saving deeds of the past and God’s continuing promise to redeem now and in the future. This in fact is our Lenten discipline to recall such a story and what it means. This is all very important for us in this individualistic age, when we seemed to have forgotten our identity, our history, even our identity as the church within our own land Australia.

There are however, several caveats I would want to suggest.  . .  and these also come from our readings. The first is that one’s history can become triumphalistic and exclusive. There is the case that one can recall one’s history too vividly, and thereby become enslaved to it. An arrogance develops. There is then no case for listening to the history of others – of their struggle, of their hopes arising from their past. The story of others are dismissed – or that one’s own story becomes so entrenched that no change, or adaption, or new future, is possible. “We’ll be right, we have history on our side” is the cry of many disasters – we know only too well. Or another way of saying this in the church – is we give no room for God to act.

For in a sense this is the issue that Paul is dealing with in our passage from Romans. Our text – which asserts central tenets of the Christian story:

“if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.” (Rom 10: 9)

is actually addressing  a wider issue of the relationship of Judaism and Christianity. Our passage from Romans falls within that section of his letter of how Paul is to understand his own Jewish heritage and this new, emerging Christian story. In these chapters 9-11, Paul is not wanting to say that the Jews have it wrong, and thus must be repudiated. Far from it. That would make God strangely inconsistent and untrustworthy. The Jews do indeed have the covenants – he asserts – but there is now more to the Jewish story, than previously understood and believed. This Jesus is in fact the Christ – the Messiah. The previous history is not wrong – it has just got bigger, much bigger. God, because of all of this, is God for now, not only the Jew, but also of the gentile.

“For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all, and is generous to all who call on him,” (Rom 10:12)

Here was a case, at least according to Paul, that a history was well remembered, but perhaps too well. It becomes limited to just a framework that was known and familiar. The grace and love of God becomes domesticated and that knowledge of God within this history is called in aid for one’s own purposes.

The third temptation of Christ, is relevant. Christ, according to Luke, is taken to Jerusalem, to the religious heart of the nation, the temple. Psalm 91, our psalm for today is quoted to him:

“God will command God’s angels concerning you, to protect you . . on their hands they will bear you up so that you will not dash your foot against a stone” (Luke 4: 10-11 from Psalm 91: 11-12)

The temptation is that in your history, your story, all one need to do is, call on your God and your very wish will be granted. Indeed go back to our Deuteronomy reading. The Israelites say, “we cried to God, and the Lord heard our voice and saw our affliction” (Deut 26: 7)  and of course they were saved.

Jesus however, rejects this interpretation of his story. This is tempting, testing the very grace of God. It assumes we can discern the mind of God, we can pre ordain God’s love and God’s grace. . . even though with hindsight we may have seen God acting in our lives. Again quoting from scripture, Jesus says “Do not put the Lord your God to the test” (Luke 4: 12 quoting from Deut 6:16)   Rather, what Jesus is saying about Psalm 91 is that at all times be assured God’s grace is with you. You are not alone. As Paul elsewhere in Romans asserts – “nothing will separate you from the love of God.” Psalm 91, or if you like our history, is not about our ideas for God – it must be about God’s grace for us now and into the future. And as Paul in our passage from Romans shows can lead us into new paths, new understandings which may seem shocking, surprising, but are all the same a part of our evolving story. For a good Jew to be told there is no distinction between themselves and a Greek in terms of their relationship with God, and that God is generous to all, was a different, new and very difficult chapter in their story.

Here at the Church of All Nations we are obviously part of a wider community, national even divine story, but our very own story is important. As we begin this journey to our anniversary it is important we grasp our continuity with those saints who have gone before us, and in this story discern we are a part of a larger history. We too could may be able to say we have “A wandering Aramean as our father “ in our own story. We however, as we approach this time of celebration, must be careful we are not one eyed, overly triumphalistic, and even overplay who God is for us now and into the future. We must not tempt God. We can be assured God has been present through our history, but as we look to future – there may indeed be a need for us to repent and confess our failings over the generations and well just wait on God. Have we like Paul says in Romans, in fact limited our story and our future by not being open to the “everyone” who calls on the name of the Lord.

There is much to learn form our history, and from Christ’s history too, as we today begin our two journeys . . then perhaps they really are just the one journey: ours here and Christ’s.

Jeremiah 1:4-10
Psalm 71:1-6
1 Corinthians 13:1-13
Luke 4:21-30

Today in our fast paced gospel reading we hear two well known proverbs or sayings that have entered our common language.

“Doctor heal thyself”  or “Physician heal thyself “

The second is

“No prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown”

or as it is sometimes translated

“Prophets are not without honour except in their own country”

What do they mean in this context? Are they relevant to our own Christian journey? What can we learn from them?

Jesus very rarely uses proverbs. His usual style is to speak in parables, short stories, or expanded similes like “the kingdom of heaven is like . . . a mustard seed, or whatever”.  However, it would seem it was these two proverbs that prompts all the action that happens then in this passage.

The story is familiar. Jesus returns to his hometown in Galilee. He attends the synagogue and, reading from the prophet Isaiah, he effectively announces his mission.

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind and to release the oppressed and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.”

All eyes are focused on him, and as we read last week, he asserts. “Today, this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.”

At this point we usually take the mental leap to the end of the passage we heard today. The home-towners, filled with rage, got up and drove Jesus out of the town, took him to the town hill where they were going to throw him off.  We assume they didn’t like his message. This message of freedom for prisoners, sight to the blind and the like was not the program that the good folk of Nazareth wanted to hear, so they wanted to get rid of Jesus.

However,  that is not why Jesus almost ended his ministry before he began it. It was because of these two proverbs:

“Doctor heal thyself” and “A prophet is not without honour, except in their own country.”

When Jesus finished his reading from Isaiah, and uttered those famous words – “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing”, Luke records, “All spoke well of him, they were amazed at his gracious words”. (vs22)  All thought well; not just one or two. “Isn’t this Joseph’s son” they said. Again I think we say was the Galilean equivalent of the tall poppy syndrome. He couldn’t do anything, even though he seems to be quite famous – he is just Joseph’s son. However, if all spoke well of him, it actually could have been a comment made with a sense of pride. This is a local boy made good. Gee, hasn’t Joseph’s boy come a long way.

The problem that lead to the incident at the hill top, and his possible rapid descent was not his Isaiah speech: again it was these two proverbs.

Doctor heal thyself – is perhaps not even a proverb. It is more of a taunt or a slur. A taunt like Jesus received when he was on the cross: “He saved others, himself he cannot save.” OK smarty pants. You have done all of these amazing things in other Galilee villages. Now why can’t you do it for yourself or for us?. Jesus says “Doubtless you will quote to me, “physician heal thyself.” He goes on “(you will say) what we have heard you did at Capernaum do here also in your own country”.

Jesus sums up his people; these people he knows very well. He cuts to chase what they might be thinking. They don’t see his message; they are just thinking of some of the benefits they might receive, or some reflected glory. Their warm approval, is really insincere. They want to see something tangible; a bit of here and now confirmation he has fulfilled this prophecy of Isaiah.

Surely this is the story played out many, many times when someone makes good, and they come from a small intimate context. How about sharing your good fortune with the village and the town. Roger Federer could buy his suburb a  new community facility, or Bill Gates share his wealth around his old school or something. We expect it.

At the outset of his ministry Jesus pre-empts this attitude of reflected glory. He squashes it. You my friends are not listening; understanding about this new way of life. Then to rub salt into the rawness he has exposed, he uses two famous healing stories form the scriptures: the widow of Zarephath; and Naaman.

Elijah, in the midst of a particularly cruel drought, miraculously kept this widow alive. The meal in her storage jar was constantly being maintained; and indeed there was a time when the widow’s son seem even seemed to have died, and he was restored to life. And Naaman, at the suggestion of Elisha, bathed in the river Jordan, and was healed of his leprosy. Jesus pointedly emphasises that the persons who weree healed or helped were a widow, the lowliest of the low; and a foreigner to boot and  Naaman, also a foreigner; a Syrian, but this time at the top of the social tree.

My dear fellow citizens of Nazareth; you do not have s a privileged place. My message breaks all sorts of boundaries:

Rich, Naaman; poor, the widow; male and female; power insider, gentile.

Jesus, here the prophet, was advocating a new way of understanding our relationship with God, which was inclusive. Jesus knew how his people thought; and he knew they would resent what he might say

About the truth of their lives
Perhaps it was the hollowness of their existence
Their resentment that other places and other people seemed to be favoured and not them

As a prophet he was despised in his own town.

Vaclav Havel, the writer who became the Czech president, writing before that fateful year 1989 when the  iron curtain fell, speaks of Solzhenitsyn, the Russian dissident, and his prophetic role in these terms:

“Why was Solzhenitsyn driven out of his own country? Certainly not because he represented a unit of real power, that is, not because any of the regime’s representatives felt he might unseat them and take their place in government. Solzhenitsyn’s expulsion was something else: a desperate attempt to plug up the dreadful wellspring of truth, a truth which might cause incalculable transformations in social consciousness, which in turn might one day produce political debacles unpredictable in their consequences. And so the system behaved in a characteristic way: it defended the integrity of the world of appearances in order to defend itself. For the crust presented by the life of lies is made of strange stuff. As long as it seals off hermetically the entire society, it appears to be made of stone. But the moment someone breaks through in one place, when one person cries out :The emperor is naked!” when a single person breaks the rules of the game, thus exposing it as a game – everything suddenly appears in another light and the whole crust seems then to be made of a tissue on the point of tearing and disintegrating uncontrollably.’

Jesus surely challenges us that as the bearer of all truth Our lives may appear to have a crust, but really are tissue. We would want to throw a person who exposes this off a cliff too.

Somewhere in the very stuff of life there is truth, ultimate meaning, the love of God for us, the way of Christ. This is what Jesus announced that day. And it challenges us – pushes boundaries – of what our little group might think, or what our dominant culture might do. So if we don’t believe God’s love extends to foreign high official males; I can accept the widow – but not Naaman, or vice versa, we are like the good folk of Nazareth.

If the truth be known we all want to bask in the glow of Jesus; and just have that comfortable life. We perhaps want insider’s privileges, or seek the reassurance that our Christian faith can affirm our prejudices. We too can easily exclude people who are not like us. Unconsciously; perhaps consciously, , we do not see the Christian faith pushing boundaries that might challenge us.

The shock of my week came in reading a fascinating book about the British Empire – remember that. In one section it considered how slavery undergirded much of the financial might of British Empire. The example taken of the blindness to all of this this was the story of John Newton, the slaver, the ship’s captain, who wrote the famous hymn,  Amazing Grace. In quoting correspondence of Newton and his various journals, Niall Ferguson makes the point that he continued supporting the slave industry, after his “religious experience” and conversion. .  . . contrary to what I have ever been told. Ferguson says – what we find hard to believe is that someone like Newtown was not repelled by slavery. (74)

God’s grace, even God’s amazing grace, just extended to people like me; to Newton’s own little world, and not to the widow of Zarephath or the Syrian Naaman.
Right at the start of Jesus ministry, we have all the elements which we, with hindsight, have understood about his mission. Jesus was almost killed because his hometown were challenged to really see the breadth of this coming kingdom of God. Their resistance, may I suggest, was a clear prefiguring of his later death on the cross: a death because of humanity’s sins; or if you prefer the language of Vaclav Havel’s, because authorities, religious and civil, “sought to defend the world of appearances in order to defend itself.” Jesus had the temerity to break through the crust of pretence, expose their falsehood, and actually offer life!

Doctor heal thyself – we too want that miracle; life without the challenges, the simple life, and want to constrain and control who Jesus is for us.

And as to the prophet not regarded in their own country – we can find our boundaries, structures and patterns comfortable; and even as insider Christians, we can find the message of Jesus difficult. He does challenge us.

For all of this, Jesus eventually died, not at his commencement service at the hands of  ordinary folk, but a couple of years later at the hands of high officials. Of course his death was not the end. Life was affirmed. The seeds of hope were sown. Today hold that image of the cross of Christ, or a Nazareth hilltop (for they really are the same) and the last verse of today’s passage, for it too is like, perhaps even the same as  Easter morn:

(vs 30) But he walked right through the midst of them and went on his way.

Jesus went on; and we too can go on for he goes on with us.

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10
Psalm 19
1 Corinthians 12:12-31a
Luke 4:14-21

I believe on websites there are things called spoiler alerts. Warnings that you may not wish to proceed. You may hear information about a film, or program or a book, that you yourself may wish to see or read. Tody – the warning is you may be overjoyed, or greatly offended, certainly you have heard the bible passage before.
Last Sunday I opened up the issue of what it means to be the church in our sort of world; and in our sort of denomination. I suggested, following the lead of Walter Brueggemann, that we needed to be a community that developed an alternative consciousness to that of the dominant culture that is round about us. However, following the service, one of the comments that I received, and thank you always for comments (and note that you can actually put your comments on our website), is what would that all mean for us, here at the Church of All Nations. What would it mean for you personally, and for us as a comparatively small group of followers of Jesus, in the inner city of Melbourne. What would such a community alternative consciousness be like? What should we be like?

And it is here where we perhaps will need to get upclose to who we are as a small group; even get personal. This is what my commentator was musing about. What would this actual image of being the church mean here – and not some imaginary ideal.

I want to make some suggestions, but do it in the context of examining this famous reading from 1 Corinthians about there being different gifts within the one body of Christ; and each of part of that body has a role to play.

First of all, some context. I think we forget Paul himself is writing to a comparatively small community. We are not talking about a mega church here, or a large an powerful group. In fact most of the membership was probably quite poor. Who knows the numbers – but it would not be unreasonable to think that they were about our size. In the letter, there are very personal references in which you can think of Paul remembering this congregation personally. Of the different parties Paul sees existing in this community; he names names. There are particular ethical dilemmas of  individuals – a man was living with his fathers’ wife (Chap 5) or the inappropriate celebration of Holy Communion, in which poorer members of that community were excluded from the feast (Chap 11) or the final greetings in Chapter 16  - in which very specific personal instructions are given.

I guess I am saying that to use Brueggemann’s model of being a countercultural community, everyone had to have a role or part. Although there have been synagogue worship for many hundreds of years in Corinth – this was something new. Everyone had to pull their weight. There was no place to hide. However, as can happen in such a new thing, people can feel very passionate about their perspective or contribution. Disputes arise. So Paul states the obvious; and he uses this illustration – which others had used before, and many since. All have to pull together – like each part of the body. It is a great illustration; and it is a part of the DNA of who we are as Uniting Church.

“. . . the one Spirit has endowed the members of Christ’s Church with a diversity of gifts, and there is no gift without its corresponding service: all ministries have a part in the ministry of Christ.” (Par 13 – Basis of Union)

What can we add to such a fundamental statement for us?

Well I think we forget how offensive this image of the incarnation is: of the Word made flesh. This was offensive – and the church, as the body of Christ, is also offensive. As we have also seen in the gospel reading - “Today”, “today” certain passages of scripture were fulfilled. This new era of the kingdom of God had begun – in the person and work of Jesus. This was Joseph’s son – wasn’t he? and it began at a particular place, time and date in history. The divine was not meant to be so constrained. “Today” the vision of Isaiah had been fulfilled. And as Paul writes, this mission, this hope for the world lives on in the church; the very body of Christ.

The ancient church leaders, and perhaps some modern ones too, have struggled with the physical aspect; and the physical implications of the incarnation – the mother’s womb, the birth and the after birth: all of those bacteria, and hormones, and mucous and phlegm. So Tertullian, an early leader,  insists God became fully human  but does so with some distaste: “Beginning with the birth itself the uncleanness of the generative elements within the womb, the filthy concretion of fluid and blood  - the growth of the flesh for nine months long out of that very mire – the womb”.

So when then church is the body of Christ – it, according to Paul also has some interesting parts too. This body of Christ can be messy, and challenging.  Paul in this passage actually calls these, well, the less presentable parts. I assume he is talking about the genitals, breasts, upper thigh, perhaps rolls of fat, or jowly cheeks; use your own imagination of what would be better-off covered. But such bits too are part of the church, the body of Christ or the incarnation itself. You see, we usually want to sanitise all of this and just say, “this passage is about useful, occasionally challenging diversity; even God given diversity. And well, we know, a house divided will fall. So all of us, we have to pull together.” Yes, that is true, but we do have interesting bits in that one body. Bits we can find difficult. So there is the vast history of testosterone in the body of Christ; wanting to go to war, or thump the chest, or be bullies in leadership. No doubt testosterone has been present in our own 150 years of being the body of Christ, here. So couldn’t we have a limit on the awkward, and the embarrassing members of the body of Christ?   Cut them off, get rid of them?

Well – no, says Paul . . . but the awkward and the less presentable need to be aware of their role, and their need of and role for, other parts of the one body. And this is where I think we Paul is not sharp enough. As we know Paul says, and we read this last week:

“To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. To one is given  through the Spirit  the utterance of wisdom, and to another  the utterance of knowledge according to the same spirit, to another … and so on”.

At the end of that passage, and the bit about the one body – there is a unity in the Spirit, amidst all of this diversity. However, does such a passage really challenge us anymore? I think, we see all that diversity just being for other people to participate. Sometimes these people are described, as Paul does in our passage as having skills in prophecy, or ministry, or teaching or healing. And that is so obviously not me, so this passage is about the whole church, not my local congregation. I just enjoy coming along, being part of the congregation. . . . well for an hour a week anyway. All of this diverse gift talk is about other people, or the whole church.

I am sure when Paul penned this words, although he was not using names here, he really had in mind particular people in that not very large community at Corinth. Particular people had gifts, each gift was needed, no gift, no person, was better or worse than the other. He was really talking as much about individuals, and not generic spiritual gifts. Recall our passage from Nehemiah. There were two verses, which disappointingly our lectionary excluded They were the verses with all of the unpronounceable names. But I actually think they are important as the rest of that reading. So take verse 7 – this was the group who were trying to explain to the assembled nation, the meaning of the scriptures for them. Israel had returned to Jerusalem after Babylonian exile, indeed it was 80 years after their release – and still the place was a shambles. The book of the law was read and

“Jeshua, Bani, Sherebiah, Jamin, Akkud, Shabbethai, Hodiah, Maaseiah, Kelita, Azariah, Jozabad, Hanan, Pelaiah, and the Levites helped the people understand the law.”

There is one collective noun – the Levites, the priests – but apart from that – there were individuals – named, and remembered – for what they had done.

The incarnation is not about faith in the abstract – or an organisation in the abstract, or categories of gifted people out there, somewhere. If this congregation is the manifestation of the one holy catholic and apostolic church, if we who gather here Sunday are the body of Christ, each one of us a have a role.

Mac – with his gentle wisdom, and knowledge of this place
Olivia – with her concern for human rights, the environment and a better world for her children
Greta with her terrier like seizing on an issue and passionately advocating for it
Paul with his broad experience, contacts and capability
Gunawen who is new here, so young, but talented and wanting to learn so much
Barbara who believe she is new, but has so much to offer

OK, OK you say – don’t go through the whole congregation. But that is my point. The church in Corinth, in addition to its various ructions, was a fragile flower. The movement of the followers of Jesus was very fragile. There was a dynamic here which we fail to understand. There was not a strong institutional base on which this handful of people could build. Yes, there had been the synagogue, but even Judaism, with the flexing of the imperial might, was also having its own problems. All there was – was the local church, which may or may not survive.

Everyone had to pitch in; to be the one body. . . even if they might not seemingly get on, or be a likely team. Today this is the sort of mindset we need – because the institution of the church, along with other institutions in Australian society is failing, receiving a bad press. . . and we cannot assume its continued existence. In a recent book by Hugh Heclo called Thinking Institutionally he illustrates this contemporary dilemma  for institutions with the story of Barry and Cal – yes its an American book.

Both Barry and Cal are athletes. Barry is all flash, self obsessed and eager to draw attention to his performance; while Cal believes that his “ultimate obligation is to the game”. For Barry the game is a setting in which his athletic prowess is exercised and his accomplishments are recorded, his individual goals are achieved. For Cal the game is that whole rich tradition of people and events that defines his appropriate performance. Where Barry sees a set of rules; Cal sees an ethos. For Barry he only loves his own accomplishments. For Cal it is loving the game itself: through his own appropriate participation in its practice and the skill required to achieve well.

Heclo suggests that to think institutionally, is to think through the roles we play for the common good. With the church, with the role of the church in Carlton, with the role of the Christian faith in Carlton – it will not just happen because there is memory, a residual memory from our 150 year presence. Carlton will only live with hope and knowledge of God’s love because of our own participation in the church’s life and practice: our being the body of Christ.

Our reading today is a call for us to have a commitment to one and other. To recognise we continue to play a part in our community because we care for one other, recognise the gifts in each other, seek to build each other up and together seek to understand more of who Jesus is for us. And Paul, is saying, amazingly, we can be the body of Christ here in Carlton.

Isaiah 62:1-5
Psalm 36:5-10
1 Corinthians 12:1-11
John 2:1-11

One of the classics of theological writing in the last generation has been the comparatively small book by Walter Brueggemann The Prophet Imagination. Brueggemann an American Old Testament scholar has keen insight into the contemporary issues facing the church in the West. He has seen there is much to learn from, and be challenged by, the prophetic witness of the Old Testament.

Brueggemann sees that the prophetic task of the church, or indeed of ministry is to nurture, nourish and evoke a consciousness and perception which is alternative to the consciousness and perception of the dominant culture around us. The task of the church is not just to address specific public crises – say government or community attitude towards indigenous people. Rather it is to always be a community who sees there is another way to way of the world. This alternative consciousness can be used to criticize the dominant culture, but it is to energize persons within that community with a promise of another time and situation toward which the community of faith may move. This community is to be where full and true humanity may be discovered and experienced.

Brueggemann pre-eminently saw this model for ministry and community life played out in the foundational story of the Jewish nation – the story of Moses and the Exodus. We usually do not see Moses as a prophet, let alone a prophet with imagination. Perhaps he is leader or lawmaker – but not as a prophet. However, the story of Moses can be summarized as being about the creation of a new community with an alternative consciousness; and a new community with a new understanding of what it means to be human in relationship to God. Moses begins by confronting the empire of Egypt – an empire in which everyone and everything is to serve the need of the Pharaoh. From all the gods to the lowliest of slaves – the whole of society is about serving and preserving the place of the ruler and the royal house. Moses holds a different vision. Yes it is at one level about on ethnic group in bondage escaping from their captors and making a new start, however, it is much, much more. It is about understanding a god, who we call Yahweh, literally the very ground of all being, all life – I am who I am. This God recognises our freedom, and wants to be in relationship with us. We again give this the fancy word, covenant; a covenant with us. Instead of human beings serving Pharaoh or the empire; together they, in their freedom, would enjoy the fullness of life in relationship with God. Here was a radical new consciousness Moses saw for his community.

Suffice it to say this new community, formed in this way, did not live up to its hopes and ideals which Yahweh, and Moses, had. It was as if the old history of Pharaoh was now continued in the monarchy of Israel. Again the focus of the nation became just securing the position of the royal house, their own role – but never it would seem were they able to silence the prophets. And so there came over the centuries the prophets who again and again placed before the people, and their rulers – with various degrees of imagination - the simple vision of Moses; the vision of being a covenant community with Yahweh; a vision of community based on a full life, justice and compassion.

The prophets of Israel continued the radical movement of Moses – but how they operated depended on their circumstance; their imagination. So a prophet like Jeremiah offers a radical critique of royal consciousness – he suggests the end of the monarchy; who stubbornly believe that things as they always have been can go on for ever. Jeremiah’s tone is not anger – but anguish; just profound sadness it had come to this. And so the nation ends – they are carried off into Babylonian exile, the great temple is destroyed. But somehow the vision of community life is still maintained.

And that is where we about get to in a very brief survey of Jewish history, when our reading from Isaiah comes into play. Here the tone is not stubborn denial that everything can go on as it used to. The context is despair. And so the consciousness the prophet endeavours to foster in this alternative community is of hope. As Jeremiah presented grief, lament and dying as the ultimate criticism of forsaking the covenant, our later Isaiah brings to Israel the hope of a new historical beginning. The language of the prophet is thus to permit the community to engage with amazement that will not let despair dominate. The prophet will not let the community languish believing everything has collapsed. Yes the community has been granted its freedom from Babylon by Cyrus, the Persian ruler. However, back in Jerusalem, there is no temple, no infra-structure. Everything will have to be established again. . . say a bit like Haiti today.

The word of the Lord is that God is going to stand by Israel.

“The nations shall see you vindication, and all the kings your glory; and you shall be called a new name that the mouth of the Lord will give.”

Once this nation was called Forsaken, in Hebrew Azubah, or Desolate, Shemamah. Now the nation will be known as Hephzibah, or My Delight is in her, or Beulah, Married. So no longer will you feel forgotten and forsaken – God is faithful and has claimed you. This is the message of the prophet; this is the message to energise and form a new community; to stand over and against all the gloom and despair.

Brueggemann, in this little book, also sees Jesus as a prophet. Of course he is much more – but in many respects his life and ministry illustrates the prophetic imagination of those who had gone before. By his actions and words, and especially his crucifixion, he engaged in dismantling the royal consciousness of empire and the role of religious authorities in preserving it. He brought his community to grief, great grief, in facing that dismantling. He was killed by the dominant culture. However, that was not all of his work. The counterpoint to that, as Brueggemann suggests, the focus of the work of Jesus, was not so much the dismantling, but the inauguration of a new thing. This imagination and action stood against all the doubt and resistance of those to whom he came. His imagination and energizing gave to people a new future, just when the grim present was all people thought they had. Of course that newness, that new possibility was shown when we use that big, virtually incomprehensible word, resurrection, his resurrection took place. He would not succumb to empire or the dominant culture, even to death. There indeed was new life.

Now we have just passed through a season in which the birth narratives, especially of Luke, point to an energising of this new community and new social reality. Outsiders are used, impossible, well seemingly impossible, events take place – old Elizabeth has a child, a virgin, Mary, gives birth, the lowest of all, the shepherds, see the Christ child first, and as we saw two weeks ago with the wisemen, other faiths and other traditions came and worshiped this child. Here was the beginning of a new, different sort of community, an alternative community to the dominant culture.

Today’ story of turning vast quantities of water into wine - also pushes our imagination. It energises us, to believe, like it is said the disciples did after this event, to believe in a new community and new humanity. It perhaps is no accident that this is the first sign that is recorded in John’s gospel. It certainly sets the tone to what follows in that gospel.

When we examine this story of the wedding in Cana, it is fair to say, we can get a little defensive about it. It does not show those typical hallmark acts of compassion, or relieving people of their fear, or indicating great faith, or directly challenging the Roman or religious authorities. We might even think that it is flippant and trite – to think that so much water, might become so much, top quality wine.

This miracle however, has an echo of our reading from later Isaiah, in sounding a note of joy and of hope. Joy and hope in the face of despair. Here is a messianic banquet – or a wedding feast in which the messiah attended. Unfortunately this featst had all the possibility for joy and energy and hope, as an Australian summer picnic if someone had forgotten the barbecue and the esky, or didn’t bring the aeroguard. Right at the outset of Jesus’ ministry, he indicates there will be, to use Bruggemann’s image, an alternative community of consciousness, an alternative to the dominant culture. A wedding party is indeed a good model, or image for such a community. Isaiah used it – it shows God is committed to us; and there is much joy.

But from time to time, in this party, in this feast, things are not always going to run to plan. We may run out of a few essentials – like the wine. Insiders, like the mother of Jesus herself, are going to perceive this. Staggeringly the first words Mary utters in all of this gospel are these powerfully double-meaning words “they have no wine”; “or possibly “they have no blood of the new covenant”. Mary’s anxiety for this new community shows. Jesus sees that. She does not see or yet understand, how, using Brueggemann’s categories, this new community will challenge (and overcome) the dominant culture. It is not sufficient for Mary, to believe all is well with Jesus just being there in the midst of the banquet. She does not see that is enough, even if there is no wine for the party. Mary feels compelled; she must do something; and so she gets her rebuke from Jesus.

However, things do happen. Purification jars of water, or is this really the old dispensation, are called into assist the new. Or perhaps the old is being overturned. Anyhow, silently, without fuss or fanfare, and certainly without the knowledge of the guests, the feast continues – and it is even better than before. A few workers – literally deacons – know; and the host knows, who interestingly is a bit grumpy about it all.

From a distance the messianic banquet has continued – seamlessly. This is the good news, and significantly the disciples who were just guests at this banquet, believed. All the frantic action, and questioning and doubts happen out the back, out of sight, Unfortunately however, even today, those are the details that seem to concern and worry us: the treatment of Mary, the quantity of the wine, the possible extravagance of keeping the best till last. But then all this happened “on the third day” the opening phrase of our story; and people had not realised his hour at not yet come.

And so for us what does all of this mean.

All of this points to what our mission needs to be, and I guess what my ministry needs to be: encouraging and fostering an alternative community to our dominant culture. A community – as Paul in our reading from Corinthians suggests, held together through the one Spirit of Christ, recognising that we have different gifts to serve that one body. That is not an easy task – and we, like the returning exiles to Jerusalem can feel despairing and despondent. . . . especially in times like the present when the church seems to be under such pressure.

We need to see that we are indeed a joyous and privileged community – fortunate enough to share in a banquet, a banquet symbolising the basis of our hope and our joy. . . joy which should not be far off in the future, but now. However, often we can doubt the very presence of the Christ at our banquet. The spirit of Christ just does not seem to be around. We say, “well, we have no wine.” And yet over there, we have vast stores of tradition and history, well for us at least 150 years of tradition. True it is not wine, but something still very significant, water. There will be those who will beaver away, those who serve, but really many will not know of the crisis. All however, will be energized by the presence of the risen crucified Christ; and be this new community.

]]> http://carlton-uca.org/news/2010/01/17/a-new-community/feed/ http://carlton-uca.org/news/2010/01/11/water-and-the-spirit/ http://carlton-uca.org/news/2010/01/11/water-and-the-spirit/#comments Sun, 10 Jan 2010 20:57:02 +0000 john http://carlton-uca.org/news/?p=1539 Delivered 10 January 2010
by Rev Dr John Evans

Isaiah 43:1-7
Psalm 29
Acts 8:14-17
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

John the Baptist says: I will baptize you with water . .. he, Jesus, will baptise you with the Holy Spirit.”

Water – precious water. Oh how it has risen in our estimation of being important. Water these days is just constantly in the news. It is the emblematic aspect of climate change; the constant reminder things are different. We will have too much of it as the polar icecaps melt; we will not have enough of it as droughts ravage our sort of land. Just in recent times there have been the following water issues: the desalination plant – its expense, location and perhaps everything about it have been controversial. Then there is the north south pipeline which is the back up for Melbourne water supply, if the desalination plant is not built in time. Then there has been the controversy over the buy back of water rights.  All of this because we may not have enough water.  Remember when we used to be called the garden state! However, just to complicate things; there are floods in north western New South Wales. Once I think we took water for granted – but now our dependence on water is one of the big political issues of the day. Forget trains running on time, or the ticketing system working – having enough water will be the maker and breaker of governments in the future.

From biblical times water has been important.  . . . especially when one considers the arid nature of those bible lands themselves. In a land where ones very existence was often precarious, people knew about, in an elemental sense, their dependence on water. It in fact led to an understanding their dependency on God. The lack of water always meant murmuring against God. And doubt. The Children of Israel on their wanderings from Egypt to the Promised Land rebelled again Moses because there was no water. According to the theologians of the time – particularly the writers of the book of Deuteronomy, the people only were lead through such experiences of deprivation in order that they might know that they could only live by the word of God. Indeed the image of the promised land was not only about milk and honey. Deuteronomy 8 says “for Yahweh your God is bringing you into a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, flowing forth in valleys and hills”(vs 7) Water. Later in prophetic writing water is an integral part of a new future of a restored Israel. Amos for example stated that justice should “roll down like waters” and  righteousness like “an ever flowing stream”. Water became a symbol of salvation, as in the summons to “draw water from the wells of salvation” (Is12:3) or come “to the waters” (55:1) – a favourite image of African American gospel music.

Indeed, a bit like we do today, water was also graded. For us today at the top of the pile we have bottled water – twice as expensive as petrol; but we then speak of potable – drinkable water, recycled water, grey water, and if you get your water from an artesian basin there is bore water. Apparently in bible times there were differences in water too: there was water that was stored in large jars and pots, through to small pools and cisterns, then there were wells, and finally there was “living water” – water that was flowing in a river or from a spring. In part this explains some of the background to that story recorded in John’s gospel where Jesus met the women beside the well in Samaria. Remember Jesus asks for a drink  - and in the conversation ends up promising her living water. She replies “sir you have no bucket , and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water?” Among the many features of this intriguing encounter, is that you do not get living water from a well! That is a different sort of water.

Water, and living water become important then in ritual and cultic practices. Ritual washing is important, and is prescribed in the holiness code of Leviticus. Such practices were about restoring a state of ritual cleanness. They would follow such things as contact with a corpse or recovery from a skin disease. After such ritual washing you were then fit to enter into the presence of God. Much later the Pharisees developed codes for ritual hand washings and there formed the daily practice of piety in the time of Jesus.

Following the Jews period of exile in Babylon, converts to Judaism were expected to undergo an immersion, a washing, a ritual of entry into the faith. This became known as “proselyte baptism” and also later became associated with acts of repentance in such religious groups as the Essenes – that Jewish sect at the time of Jesus down at the Dead Sea. So John’s baptism was obviously in living water – the flowing river Jordan (though I should note it really is a miserable little water course looking a little like the Murray Darling after all our years of our degradation and over drawing of water.) and his baptism drew on all this history.

1. The baptism would be a washing clean. A movement from uncleanness to cleanness and so the baptised would be fit to enter into the presence of God.
2. The baptism would be a mark, a sign of conversion. A sign possibly of moving from being a gentile to a Jew, but certainly it would mark the entrance into a new community.
3. The baptism was a sign, a mark that the baptized person had repented, had turned around their life. They would in the future live their life in a different way. Remember John’s teaching about “bearing the fruits worthy of repentence” (Lk 3:7). So whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none, whoever, has food must do likewise” and so on.

This was John’s baptism – it was the baptism we assume Jesus undertook; however, the baptism of Jesus would be different . . . or perhaps more correctly, would have the  additional dimension of the Holy Spirit.

So why would Jesus want to be baptised by his kinsman, John, in the first place?

Those themes of how baptism was then viewed in the time of John I think provide provide some clues. Jesus  wanted to be fit to enter into the presence of God;  he was shown to be a part of a new community and it would show his commitment to a new life. Indeed this theme of new life, of repentance and forgiveness is an important theme in Jesus’ life, death and resurrection. Jesus we assert, in faith, was sinless – and so this action atd the beginning of his ministry, and then at the end of his ministry with his death on the cross – because of our sinfulness and for our sins, is emphasizing a theme of this ministry, perhaps the theme of his ministry: forgiveness and a renewed relationship with God. His baptism and then death on the cross form neat bookends in this ministry of forgiveness and new life: a clear beginning and end. Indeed, in the statement we say at the time of baptism here each time we baptize, we emphasise this point:

“In his own baptism in the Jordan by John, Jesus identified himself with humanity in its brokenness and sin; that baptism was completed in his death and resurrection.”

However, perhaps more significantly at his baptism by John, Jesus received the Holy Spirit, and that in turn Jesus would baptise not with just water – like John, but with the Holy Spirit.

All the gospels record that Jesus’ baptism was different to John’s. And all gospels record something “happened” when he was baptized. It was a special moment in some way: a God filled moment right at the start of Jesus’ ministry.  It was like the Spirit of God variously descending like a dove, or as a dove – as the account we have today from Luke says.  Thee even was a voice from heaven, which said “this is my beloved son with whom I well pleased”. How our modern mind copes with such scenes, words and descriptions I wonder – however, I think we can confidently assert this was. It was a special time, a special occasion; it was a unique start to his ministry..

It is however, the Holy Spirit that separates Jesus’ baptism out from John’s baptism.  John’s baptism is about marking – there being a sign that something is different and significantly water is used. And as we have seen water is very important. Howeve,r the Holy Spirit adds something.It is true others, like the prophets and indeed those associated with his birth – people like Mary and Elizabeth – also received the Holy Spirit. Receiving the Holy Spirit was not a unique event. However, within the context of Jesus’ baptism and baptism in his name, the linking of baptism with water and baptism in the Holy Spirit, means the very Spirit of Christ himself – the way of bringing about that new relationship – a relationship of forgiveness – is present. Baptism in water and the spirit injects into that baptism who Jesus actually is. It becomes more than just the mark of new life and a new creation – it holds within it the hope of that new creation.

Continuing in the statement we make about baptism in our baptismal liturgies

“By God’s grace, baptism plunges (a good water word), plunges us into the faith of Jesus Christ, so that whatever is his may be called ours.
By water and the Spirit we are claimed as God’s own and set free from the power of sin and death.”

Our baptism not only has all those features of baptism that John’s baptism contained, through the Holy Spirit actually, this new life in Christ  is incorporated into, becomes a part of this newly baptized person’s life form there on. Again our statement

“Baptism is Christ’s gift.
It is the sign by which the Spirit of God joins people to Jesus Christ and incorporates them into his body, the Church.”.

Water.

Precious stuff.

Baptism, in water and the Holy Spirit is also precious.

Remember that you are baptised.

Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12

In our very secular world, it is strange to see and hear central and important words of the church are being appropriated by others. Today, no organisation worth its salt would be caught dead without a particularly “mission” or “mission statement”. Organisations similarly have a “pastoral” responsibility towards those in their care – schools, all schools these days are fond of “pastoral care”. And the word of the moment – “epiphany” is gaining enormous currency. Everyone, it would seem, is having an epiphany these days. In this sense it usually means just having an “a-ha moment”, a moment of insight; the light comes on. And actually that is not far removed from how we understand the season of epiphany, and especially the day that is designated as Epiphany – the 6th January – next Wednesday, except our a-ha moment is revealed by God.

Our readings we have heard today are those set for Epiphany. This is the day we have historically associated the visit of the Magi – or the wisemen – to the Christ child. Obviously the coming of the Christ child is the great revelation of who God is for us - God has come among us: Jesus is the revelation, an epiphany of who God is for us. It is an occasion of great joy. As the reading from Isaiah indicates such an epiphany is enlightenment; a call to new action, to a new way of life.

“Arise, shine; for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.” (Is 60:1)

However, lurking within our passages today, this epiphany of God also heralds a seismic shift in religious thinking . . a shift which I think we may have become inured to, inoculated against. The coming of Christ is for all. God is revealing God’s self for all and is breaking down religious barriers. . . and boxes of doctrine and purity we might create and think we might need.

Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, indicates this most clearly. He notes that all of a sudden it had dawned on him, he calls it a revelation, we could say epiphany, that who Jesus is, means he is not just confined to the Jews and the Jewish faith. Paul says “the mystery – that is Jesus Christ - was made known to me by revelation”. He goes on

“In former generations this mystery was not made known to humankind, as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit: that is the Gentiles have become fellow heirs, members of the same body, and sharers in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” (Eph 3:5,6)

As gentiles ourselves, we fail to see how enormously challenging such an insight indeed was. . . and perhaps what it might mean to the Christian church today. God was no longer tied to ethnic, national and religious structures; or wrapped up into power structures of empire and religious authority. God was democratised and universalized challenging human structures and human interpretations, breaking down barriers and offering new life.

Such an epiphany had been there in the thinking of the prophets many centuries before – especially in the writings of the later Isaiah. However, such a new revelation was preeminently shown in the very birth of Jesus himself, and in particular this visit of the magi. It may be useful to consider this incident more closely and look at the three primary characters within the story: the magi, Herod and Jesus himself. .

First are the Magi. The Greek term magoi suggests that the “wise men” were priestly sages from Persia, who were experts in astrology and the interpretation of dreams. What distinguishes them in the narrative is their sincere and persistent search for the baby “born king of the Jews.” While one might suppose them to have been veteran, sophisticated travelers, what is striking is their candor and openness. Almost naive, they seem to anticipate no difficulty in inquiring of Herod about the birth of a rival king. “Oh, here is the king, King Herod, let’s ask him. He’ll know.” Their inquisitiveness however, forces a troubled Herod to seek help from the chief priests and scribes, who, though aligned with Herod, ironically produce the decisive clue that finally leads to Bethlehem.

Throughout their journeys, the Magi are patently guided by God. It is, first, a star in the East and then this text from Micah - “from you Bethlehem shall come a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel” that leads them to their goal. These strange outsiders do not stumble onto the Messiah as if by accident. They search with purpose and are directed each step of the way by a divine hand. The Magi’s stay in Bethlehem is marked by great joy, by the worship of the infant Jesus, and by the giving of gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh—expensive gifts which are suitable for royalty.

Now the remarkable fact that undergirds the entire portrait of the Magi—their searching, their guidance, their worship—is its character as the fulfillment of scripture. Isaiah 60:1–6 and Ps. 72:1–7, 10–14, speak of the time of restoration when the wealth of the nations shall come to the Jews . . . . “They shall bring gold and frankincense, and shall proclaim the praise of the Lord.” (Isa. 60:5–6)

The arrival of the non-Jews at Bethlehem turns out to be a part of some divine plan, an accomplishment of the promises made long ago. The Magi, as representatives of all non-Jews, belong here in the company of those worshiping the infant Messiah. In a sense they pave the way for the command the risen Christ gives to the Eleven at the end of

Matthew’s narrative: make disciples of all the nations: the command which the apostle Paul enthusiastically takes on board in his mission to the Gentiles.

A second key figure in our story is Herod the king: a scheming, troubled and insecure ruler. Herod, as it turns out, is no match for the guileless Magi, guided by the hand of God. Herod’s plot to have the Magi search out and identify his rival for him backfires when they are directed in a dream to go home a different way. If the Magi represent the presence of non-Jews who appropriately worship Jesus, Herod represents the imperial powers, imposing and conspiring but threatened and ultimately frustrated by this new king – the infant Jesus. Empire is challenged by this boy child; empire is challenged by the needs of little people – and is found wanting. . . . but when needed can still bring all its resources to slaughter the innocents – as Herod soon did.

Third, we turn to the figure of Jesus, who in this story says and does nothing (except perhaps cry and gurgle), but nevertheless is the chief protagonist. The entire plot revolves around the affirmation that Jesus is in fact King of Israel. His kingdom however is different. The text from Micah that the chief priests and scribes uncover identifies him as “a ruler who is to shepherd my people Israel” (2:6). The Greek verb translated as “shepherd” actually depicts what shepherds do with their flocks—tend, protect, guide and nurture. Jesus’ rule is distinguished from Herod’s rule by his gentle guardianship, his compassionate care for his people. A new way of ruling and leading is foreshadowed. But it is also this shepherd king who is finally rejected and mocked by the same chief priests and scribes who, at the crucifixion, say, “He is the King of Israel; let him come down from the cross now” (27:42). It is the sign that Pilate allows to be placed on the cross – The King of the Jews. All true – but in a very different sense.

The account of the Magi’s visit to Bethlehem and their worship of the King of the Jews becomes a critical episode in the larger story of who God is for us. Hope and salvation comes through Jesus the Jew, the fulfillment of the prophetic dreams, but his birth reaches far beyond to strangers from the East, and then as his story unfolds to a Roman centurion at the foot of the cross, or to a Canaanite woman with an ill child, and to the most driven of men the apostle Paul, and his mission to the Gentiles.

Over this quieter period I have enjoyed reading a book by a female Muslim writer, Irshad Manji, challenging the Muslim faith today. The book The Trouble with Islam Today is revealing, but at the same time quite challenging about all religions. Her basic contention is that Islam, and we can here read Christianity, has amazing insight, even truth, about life, God and our self understanding. The trouble is that a faith gets caught up with its own structure, power and traditions. It loses touch with its very basis, and is forced to justify say, cultural or ethnic practices, which the faith perhaps itself challenged or overturned. You can see how that argument could play out in the world of Islam today.

She quotes with approval, a statement from the great Jewish philosopher Maimonides who was writing at the height of Islamic civilization through the middle east and Europe in the 12th century. In his book, wonderfully titled, The Guide for the Perplexed, he says

“It is in the nature of all to like what they are familiar with and which they have been brought up, and that they fear anything alien. The plurality of religions and their mutual intolerance result from the fact that people remain faithful to the education they received”. (Manji 60)

That is true for us today. Our national leaders fear of refugees is surely evidence of this. However, the very birth of Jesus and the coming of the magi, challenges religious assumptions, wonderfully, naively challenges structures – even that of empire, with a new way of living and self understanding. We have a God who challenges our prejudices, our power and authority; a God who addresses a world riven with religious and ethnic tension.

Really I think you can understand why it is all quite an epiphany!

on Sunday 27th December, 2009

1 Samuel 2:18-20, 26
Psalm 148
Luke 2:41-52

This is a good time of the year. There is space. The busyness of getting reading for Christmas and then celebrating Christmas is passed – and the urgency of the New Year has not begun. It is a delightful in-between time. An ideal time to reflect.

Our readings today also encourage us to reflect – and how we gather to worship, I trust also would encourage us to reflect.

In the gospel reading Jesus, as a twelve year old is left behind in Jerusalem after Passover. I don’t quite know how that would happen, but he is left behind. His frantic parents find him in the temple discussing matters with the elders. He then utters these words – “Why are you searching for me? Did you not know I must be in my Father’s house?”

These are the first words recorded in all of scripture of Jesus speaking. Up until this point everything had all been about Jesus – angels, Mary and Joseph, wisemen, shepherds, Simeon and Anna – everyone had been speaking about Jesus. “Christ the Lord’; “prince of peace” - and the like. Finally Jesus speaks. The words are not particularly grand – they indeed have a delightful prepubescent air about them. Jesus however, is, however haltingly, giving voice to who he is; what lies ahead in his life. Here the Jesus speaks.

Giving voice to that which is silent, or has remained silent, is important.

I used to belong to the then Pitt St Congregational Church – now Uniting. . . indeed it became Uniting when I was a member. It was a then a very small struggling. It had however, a very interesting and useful custom. At morning tea each Sunday – we would all gather around, just like we do. Talk – but there would be a organised part of this. People would be asked to share their week with others. This would in turn prompt some discussion. And at the end of the discussion the week would be named. It was the week that xyz was born; or died. Or when a particular meeting took place. Or whatever. The name for the week would then be recorded.

Before God and each other we would give voice to what was happening. It might be thanks giving, confession and lament or of concern.

Giving voice. Indeed right towards the end of Jesus’ life there is similar giving voice. He is coming into Jerusalem – we callit palm Sunday. The crowds are exultant. Hosana’s Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. And the officials are not happy. They want Jesus to tell his disciples to stop. But Jesus says, with great rhetorical flourish – if these were silent, the stones would shout out”.

Giving voice is something we should not be afraid of doing.

So we are going to give voice to what has happened this year and name it before God.

Two questions

1. What has happened this year – internationally, nationally, locally and in this congregation – perhaps even personally.
2. What is it we need to say, to give voice to about this year
   1. It may indded have been silent
   2. Or it may have been very public – but have we acknowledged the event or incident appropriately.

(Discussion and sharing)

Our Old Testament reading is not so much about giving voice; but about listening. . . which sometime can be more or less the same thing. It is the well known story of the boy Samuel, working with old Eli the priest. When Samuel believes that he is being addressed by God, Eli famously suggests to Samuel when he believes he is being called by God, to say - “Speak now, your servant heareth”.

As we stand at the gateway to another year – believe it or not, another decade. What is it we believe the Spirit of Christ saying to us about the year ahead?

Is it about a call to serve in a new and different way.

How do we address some of those issues we have just being giving voice to?

How are we as a congregation being addressed? How are you being addressed?

Giving voice and listening – perhaps we do not do it often enough.

Isaiah 52:7-10
Psalm 98
John 1:1-14

We all like a good story – especially at Christmas time. Indeed some of us may have been given a good book as a Christmas present. And of course we heard another story this morning – the story of The Fourth or The Other Wiseman by Henry Van Dyke.

So what makes a good story?

Now people who think about these things say there are four things to consider:

1. The context – the situation. “It was a dark and stormy night”; or “The world was at war”; or “Bill was a lecturer at the University of Melbourne, married to Jill and they had two children and so on”.
2. Next comes the complication. “One day when Bill was walking to work  he saw two men acting suspiciously ….: or he had an argument with Jill; or his professor.” There is a complication. The complication then plays on the situation. Things develop. There is conflict, choices, drama, suspense.
3. Then at about page 268 of the 277 page book, there is then the “ah ha moment”, “the time for decision”, the ultimate “choice”  – they finally marry – Elizabeth Bennett and Mr D’arcy finally get it; or the “goal” is reached, or there is the “freeing of the hostages” – whatever.
4. And finally there is the resolution – “they live happily ever after”, or “the world avoids another war”, or “the plane does not crash”; or” the lost children are happily re-united with their family”.

Four aspects: a situation, the complication, the moment of decision and then the resolution. Of course there may be many stories or sub-plots in the one book – all woven together. Thee will always be the love interest on the side. However, it is a pretty standard pattern: the situation, the complication, the moment of insight or decision, then the resolution.

And in the Christmas story you can see this as well.

Mary and Joseph, two ordinary Jewish young people – in love, betrothed. All is going well. There time was when Augusts was emperor, and Quirinius was governor of Syria.
There is however, a complication. Mary, a virgin, is pregnant! Moreover, she is pregnant and will give birth to the messiah, the Christ. A rather spectacular complication.
In the third phase – Mary and Joseph accept the task. It is not easy. They have to travel to Bethlehem. There is no room in the in. They however, respond to the challenge.
And there is a resolution – the baby is born, just as predicted. There is even adulation  of this child, all confirming that this baby, born of Mary, is Christ the Lord.

The pattern is repeated in other subplots of the Christmas story. Shepherds are in the field going about their work A complication  - angels come with a message. What do they do? They go. And the resolution is that they return to their work rejoicing.  Also with wisemen – the three of them; and it also applies with Artaban – the other wiseman. With Artaban – there are always complications – just when he seems to be near the Christ so he can handover his precious gift. And although he does not succeed in that task, the resolution is clear. His response to each of the complications showed the choice, the decision he made – and this, as the story comes to a close, in fact resolves the story. One does not personally have to have been there to present one gifts; it really in the end depends on how one lives one life.

We love this Christmas story. Children act it out. We as a congregation acted it out just last Sunday in our Christmas pageant. And yet is it really the whole story – the big story,  the story of all of us, the hope for all of us?

Doesn’t the story of all of us go something like this?

The situation or context is that we as human beings have so much going for us. We are miraculously made. This world is an amazing place to live. Life is good. And if you want evidence of that just look at the joy and the opened eyed wonder of a small child this morning – Christmas morning  - as they received their gifts. Life is meant to be people living in harmony and in relationship with God.

Then comes the complication – us. We are not God’s plaything or puppet. We are free – free to love, free to respect, free to imagine and create. But also free to be selfish, free not to be content with what we have and want more, and free to be resentful of what others have. Free to be jealous of others – and even assume we can survive without God – certainly to live without that highest ideal of all that is good. In our freedom we fall short of what we can do and achieve. We are sinful. In our freedom we choose other paths, other ways.  We reject God’s will. The complication drives a wedge between ourselves and others; perhaps even with our own better nature. Certainly we become isolated from God. Life can spiral out of control – and just becomes one damned thing after another.  Over this complication there may be thrown other overlays of illness, or tragedy, or natural disaster, or oppression and injustice. All however, point to a drifting away from what we discern to be the good, and the will of God.

Then there comes the ah ha! The solution – the decision. Now for some this solution might to be the personal insight – “I have to change my ways”, I must do something about that relationship I have with my children - whatever. A sort of new year’s resolution. And personal responsibility, and personal effort are important. However, do they ultimately bring new life; a new creation as the bible says. Or another awkward  word – “salvation”. Will we have the solution if we just depend on our own efforts to be good? Or will this itself tend to be just another complication in this big story?

The “Christmas solution” to our complication is however, that that choice did not rest with ourselves. Rather the decision is God’s decision. God’s decision was that God sent God’s own son – “the word became flesh”, as St John’s gospel says. Jesus was born.  God’s decision was to raise up a saviour, Christ the Lord.  This was God’s grace. God’s love – God’s intention that we should all live a fulfilled, good life. God sent Jesus  - Jesus was born. Jesus was God’s gift.
The “Christmas story”  thus becomes a critical aspect of the big picture story It was, as the angels showed, something to sing about; as the wisemen reacted – something to be joyful about; as the shepherds responded – something to praise God about. In the history of world – the great ah ha moment had come – the Christ was born.

“To you this day in the city of David is born a saviour who is the Christ, the Lord.”

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.

So to the final aspect of any story, the resolution. The rest of the story. How does it finish? Are you are part of this story? Do you believe that a turning point in time came with the birth of Jesus; do you believe our saviour has been born?

We love the Christmas story; I think we are vaguely aware of the big picture story of our world and our lives. This Christmas, the question is do we fit within this larger big picture story?