The Greatest of all Miracles

Isaiah 55:1-5      Psalm 145:8-9, 14-21     Romans 9:1-8     Matthew 14:13-21

Is there such a thing as small miracles and big miracles. Like, if you’re going to defy the laws of physics or biology, I guess miracles are all pretty big. But some do feel bigger than others, don’t they? Raising someone from the dead or restoring sight to the blind feels like a bigger act than turning water into wine.  And today we have the miracle of the feeding of the 5000 men, plus women and children, with just five loaves and two fish. A miracle so significant that it is the only one mentioned in all 4 gospels. A miracle that is a precursor to our holy meal and one prophesied centuries before, in our reading from Isaiah:

You that have no money, come, buy and eat…without money and without price. Come to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food…Come to me…so you may live.

It’s a huge miracle. Five loaves, two fish, a huge crowd, everyone is fed and there are 12 baskets left over.  And yet, this week it struck me that there is an even bigger miracle that takes place in this story. Something so big that it didn’t just change things for the crowd on that hillside that day, but it changes everything, for all time, and it changes everything for us. That miracle is hidden away in a few words in verse 16, and it says this, ‘you give them something to eat’. You do it.

Jesus is presented with a crowd in need. A crowd who are hungry. They have nothing to eat. They are poor and outcast. Some are sick. They have heard if they just hang on this man’s words, or touch his cloak, everything will be better. They are desperate. They need food. They need life. And Jesus, full of compassion, says to his disciples, ‘don’t send them away’. You do it.

And the disciples don’t know what to do. They don’t know how to deal with the needs of the world, right before them. They don’t know how to deal with poverty and brokenness and injustice and sickness and the whole polycrisis gathered before them on that hillside. Their solution is to send them away – go and get what you need somewhere else – and Jesus’ solution is ‘don’t send them away’. You do it. Between us, and what we have, we have the solution, he says.

So, they gather everything they have and bring it to Jesus, and he blesses it and gives it back and there is enough to go around. Enough and some to share, of course, like always.

And, as I so often say, as it was with them, so it is with us.

We see need before us and around us all the time. If we don’t, we are asleep.

And the human reaction, the temptation, is to say, ‘go to the doctor, go to centrelink, go to work, ask your friends, talk to your family’ and Jesus says, ‘you give them something to eat’. ‘You do it’.

And that feels terrifying, when the world is this broken, when the needs are this great. But all that Jesus asks of us is all that we have and all that we are. All that is in our hands and hearts. All that is in our baskets and our packed lunch. And he says, ‘bring them to me’, and he takes us and all we have and all we are and looks to heaven and blesses and breaks us and sends us back to the crowds so that everyone might be filled and satisfied and then he gathers what is left over and we find there is more than we began with. We give everything we have and discover, lo and behold, that we gain more, and so do those around us.

This week, I went to an elderly care home for a holy communion service. In the group was a very old lady, strapped into a padded wheelchair. She is in the final stages of dementia and mostly sleeps. She was wheeled in, and she slept through us singing and the bible reading. I blessed and broke the bread, consecrated the wine, and wove through the chairs, distributing our holy meal among those there. I reached Jeannie’s wheelchair and rubbed her hand. She opened her eyes and I said ‘do you want to eat this, it’s Jesus’ and she opened her mouth and nodded and ate. I came back with the chalice and again, gently got her attention and offered her a drink.

She looked at me, looked at the chalice and I heard her speak for the first time. She said ‘look at that. It is beautiful. Look at all the colours coming from it. Do you think it is wonderful?’ and I said to her ‘it is Jesus. I think it’s the most wonderful thing in the world’ and she drank, and her carer cried and they were both filled and satisfied. She had taken a mere crumb, a tiny sip, and it was all I had to offer, and it was more than enough and there was so much left over in that moment. My heart was way fuller than it had been before I got there.

We give Jesus all we have, and he blesses it and gives it back to us to give out and, in doing so we bless others and we also get a blessing, because that is how outrageous grace works.

We follow Jesus at our peril really, don’t we?

It demands all we have and all we are, and it gives us work to do.

You do it, Jesus says.

But when we give and when we do the work, we find those around us are filled and satisfied. And there is not only enough for others, but there is also more than enough for us. Yes it demands our all, but it gives all and more in return.

So, may we be a people who see the need, and have compassion in our hearts for those in need. May we bring all we have and all we are to Jesus. May we place it all in his hands for him to bless and break and give. And may we gather up all that is left over, and in it find God’s richest blessings. Amen.

The parable of St Paul’s, Beaconsfield

1 Kings 3:5-12         Ps 119:126-136        Romans 8:26-39         Matt 13:31-52

In these past 3 weeks, Jesus has told us 8 different parable, each beginning with ‘the Kingdom of Heaven is like…’

Well, if you will allow me, may I tell you another parable…

The Kingdom of Heaven is like a group of people who went to the diocese and asked them to be benefactors of an old house and a huge patch of wasteland, growing wild oats, behind their church. And when the group of people asked for money, they were told no, and in their sadness, they sat together, defeated, and decided the land was not to be theirs and their dream was over.

And then, early the next morning, one of the group, came, alone, to morning prayer and heard the words of Jesus clearly say ‘the kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.’ And hearing those words she went and asked friends to loan all they had to buy the old house and the wasteland and the oat field and 24 hours later she stood and bid for it at auction and won. And knew she had bought the treasure.

The Kingdom of Heaven is like a patch of wasteland that was divided up and shared between a community of people, each with their own home and their own place but with shared values and common principles and with a hope for the future.

The Kingdom of Heaven is like a church community that moved into housing promised to them on paper, without seeing what they would be, but knowing that good and holy things would come from being together in one place for a shared purpose.

And paths were laid, and plants were sown and trees grew and birds and animals and people found their homes in its shade. And there was agreement and disagreement and there was peace and there was upset. And people came and people went, and the kingdom of God continued to grow and spread.

The kingdom of God is like a well-cared for garden that attracts bees and cats and lizards and butterflies and birds and bats. And sometimes street sleepers cook up crystal meth in the flower beds and burn the concrete and steal and break things and are grateful for the shade and the shower and outstay their welcome and disappear and we worry, and feel their absence.

The Kingdom of God is like a church that dares to open its doors and say ‘everyone is welcome’ and mean it. And regret they mean it. And regroup and dust themselves down and mean it again.

The kingdom of God is full of scones and fresh coffee and gallons of soup and so much fizz and cake and hymn singing and elm dancing and zen Buddhists shuffling past on their meditation days and people setting up easels to paint and overfull car parks that drive us mad. It is full of muslims rushing to make Friday prayers, pulling off their thongs and washing their feet as they go. It is community breakfast and morning tea and trying to remember to count to ten before responding to the latest comment or email. And forgetting. And saying sorry. And not feeling sorry. And working on loving people anyways.

The kingdom of God is all around us, springing up like those poppies through the concrete. Spreading like spilt milk, getting everywhere like dropped glitter. And all that we see and know and do and experience is just a glimpse. It’s just a glimpse, just a fraction, of the kingdom of God but it is still real and it is still here and it will keep coming because the Kingdom of God is unstoppable, untameable, unbeatable.

And it began long before the auction for the wasteland but it was purposefully continued in that daring decision to follow the words of Christ, to take him at his word, to sell all that you have to buy the field. And in buying that field so much treasure was found. So much treasure. And in buying that field so many weeds were found too. And they were part of the treasure because nothing is wasted in the kingdom of God.

The Kingdom of God is past, present and future. And this parable is the story of our past and present, so what will we sell to find the treasure of our future, here, for the furthering of God’s Kingdom?

Let me finish with these glorious words from RS Thomas, found on the back of the white sheet…

THE BRIGHT FIELD- R.S. Thomas

I have seen the sun break through to illuminate a small field for a while,

and gone my way and forgotten it.

But that was the pearl of great price,

the one field that had treasure in it.

I realize now that I must give all that I have to possess it.

Life is not hurrying on to a receding future,

nor hankering after an imagined past.

It is turning aside like Moses to the miracle of the lit bush,

to a brightness that seemed as transitory as your youth once,

but is the eternity that awaits you.

The parable of the sower…NOT the parable of the soil, seed or rocks

Isaiah 55: 10-13               Psalm 65: 8-13      Romans 8:12-25      Matt 13: 1-9, 18-23

This isn’t the first time I’ve stood before you with one of our poppies in my hand, and I doubt it will be the last, but this morning’s gospel passage reminded me once again of the sermons these poppies keep preaching.

I’ve just returned from 2 weeks in the UK, visiting family and friends.  In the town I emigrated from, the local council have strewn wildflower seeds along the central reservations of the main roads in and out of the town and they are bursting with colour. There is evidence of seeds being sown and plants being grown, all over the place. And when I left here, the poppies were dormant and nowhere to be seen, and now they are beginning to burst out again.

This morning’s gospel passage is about seeds and plants and growth too… or is it?

Jesus calls it the parable of the sower – listen then to what the parable of the sower means, he says. Not the parable of the seeds or soil or the birds, or rocky places or thorns, or anything else. Listen to the parable of the sower.

A farmer went out to sow his seed and he scattered it; on the path, in the thorns, in the rocks, and where the soil was good.

The farmer scattered the seed everywhere. They didn’t care where it landed – they just flung it about. Some of it took root, some of it didn’t, some of it was food for the birds, some of it grew into food for people, some of it lived and some of it died.

This is a parable about the farmer, about the one who sows the seeds. And in this story, the farmer is God, and the seed is Jesus. And God has this amazingly healthy lack of concern about where God sows. In God, Christ is for all people, all the time, in every place. And here is the surprising thing, perhaps – it is God who sends the Christ-seed, it is God who does the planting of the Christ-seed, and there is no place where God won’t send and plant him.

What? You mean it isn’t about us and about our acts of evangelism and our publicity of the Jesus story and our capacity to paint him in a good light that spreads him across this world? Well, alleluia, this gospel story seems to be saying no, it’s not. God is the farmer and God sows the love and light and life of Christ like wildflowers. (Even the OT reading reminded us that it is the work of the rain from heaven that makes buds blossom and flourish, and not us… And the psalm said – YOU tend the earth and water it, and make it rich and fertile). Hang on a minute. God has got this covered and doesn’t need me to do the work for God? Consider that for a moment!

So why am I standing here with a poppy in my hand? Because these poppies remind us about the lavish, indiscriminate, vast outpouring of the message of God.

These poppies, as you may know, originated in Flanders fields, in Belgium, where two pilgrims procured seeds and brought them back to St Paul’s. And those seeds were sown and these poppies grew. Then a gust of wind came and took some of the seeds of these first poppies and carried them on the breeze to Martha street and they dropped and fell on the concrete and they magnificently burrowed their way down, and the seed died there, but, in time, their strong but delicate head burst back up through that concrete. And along came a bird and pecked a poppy plant and carried the seed to south beach and up to the city and out to the hills, and poppies sprang up there too. And then, to raise funds, some people harvested the seeds and sold them here, and people bought them and planted them in other suburbs and other states and maybe even other countries, and the poppies continued to grow. And they are everywhere. And they cannot be tamed.

And as it is for these poppies, so it is for the word and love of God. But more so.

Because what began at the dawn of time, and came to human life in a manger in the middle east, is now known throughout the world. And we never know how fruitful anything will be. We never know if concrete will discourage or challenge the seed. We never know where the bird will drop it, or where the Holy Spirit will blow it. All we can do is watch what the farmer is up to, and see what happens. All we can do is welcome babies for baptism, watch God plant and water the seeds of faith in children like baby Ada, and then wait for flowers and fruit to grow.

Three weeks ago, we had a confirmation service with the Archbishop and we began a new tradition here. We gave to each candidate a little sapling, with a tag on it that read, ‘plant this as a reminder of the new life that is yours today, in Christ’, and we sent them home with it. And we planted one here too, with a tag that said ‘confirmations, June 2023’.

Today we will continue that tradition – as part of our work towards reaching net zero, and because it is good and true – and baby Ada will be given a plant with that same message. And hopefully Brett and Hayley will take it and plant it. And we will plant one here too, as a reminder of this day – so we get to see, visually, what the holy farmer, the sower, is doing among us.

Friends, the sower is at work. Seeds are being nurtured and grown. Flowers and fruit are bursting out all around us. God keeps on planting and watering and tending the earth. And we get to watch God’s Kingdom grow, thanks be to God. Amen.

A sermon for an annual meeting…

EXODUS 19.2–8a             PSALM 100             ROMANS 5.1–11              MATT 9: 35ff

This morning’s bible readings seem to have specifically been chosen for an AGM – did you notice? I can assure you they weren’t, but let’s look at them, in turn, and see how they might be speaking to us, on this day, where we stop, consider, look back over what has been, and look forward to whatever future God might be calling and leading us into.

Our first reading was part of the Exodus story. Those early wanderers are camping at Mount Sinai where God reminds them how God has carried them on eagle’s wings and brought them to God’s self. I read that and thought of that beautiful song we often sing – and I will raise you up on eagle’s wings – a song that I think of as something of our anthem. There were years of wandering and God has been constantly faithful and near. And we have been carried on the wings of God’s love and always brought near to God.

The exodus story is also our story. And so, the commands of the exodus God are also our commands; …obey me fully…keep my covenant… God says. And the promises to the Exodus people are our promises too; …you will be my treasured possession…you will be a holy people. And so, the response of the Exodus people might inspire our response too; ‘We will do everything the Lord has said,’ the people responded together.

Then we had psalm 100 – Give thanks to God and bless God’s holy name. For the Lord is good, his loving mercy is for ever: his faithfulness throughout all generations. And that’s the point of today; a time of thanksgiving – thank you God for your loving kindness, for each other, for this place, for this parish. Thank you, God – we bless your holy name. It is a time to recall God’s goodness to us. We have been through much and God was faithful. We are growing and changing and God is faithful. We are committing afresh to our future and God will be faithful. Great is God’s faithfulness.

Next …….. read the New Testament reading – we glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. This reminds me of this past Pentecost, just a few weeks ago, when we should have had a baptism and the family got sick and cancelled a couple of hours before the service. And God was amazing – as ever – and led us into that incredible time of anointing, for those who longed for more of God’s Holy Spirit and one by one nearly every person was anointed and God’s love was poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. And it felt like a really significant way-marker on our journey together. The past is behind us, the present is good, and the future is filled with hope…and hope does not disappoint us.

And only then did we get to the gospel – to those wonderful words of Christ, calling his disciples, sending out workers into the harvest and giving them specific instructions.

‘The harvest is plentiful’, Jesus says, ‘but the workers are few’.

You know that age-old conversation – there is so much to do, and it’s always the same people who do everything!  I’ve heard that said in every church I have ever been a part of. And I’ve heard it said here. And it might feel like the same people do everything, especially when we are tired, but that same number of people is way bigger here than in many places. And that number is growing! Before the restructure of our parish council, we had maybe a dozen people who were ‘running’ the church.

With our new support groups, we have more than 30 people involved in some aspect of decision making – maybe more like 40, especially when you include people who are on rosters too. We are blessed. The harvest is plentiful – I absolutely believe it – and the workers are growing in number and confidence and courage. And, at the advice of Jesus, we will continue to ‘ask the Lord of the harvest to send out workers into the harvest field’…whilst also recognising and acknowledging that the worker God might be calling could be any one of us…and probably is you.

When we hear the list of the names those Jesus called, I wonder if we can hear our own name in that list too? Simon (called Peter), his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee, John, Philip and Bartholomew; Maureen, Thea, Michael and Howard. Craig, Janice, Gordon and Russell. Gabby, Linda, Lucia and Glenda and Iris. And everyone else because Jesus calls us all – never doubt that.

And just as he called those first disciples, with specific instructions, so he calls us with specific instructions. And we might – in error – call it Parish Councillor or support group member or external verifier or whatever grand name we give it, but really our call is always to go to those who are lost and tell them they are loved and there is a way home. We are called to go to the sick and heal them – especially to heal others of the disease of loneliness and isolation – we are called to bring light and life to places of darkness and death – to bring peace where there is chaos and hope where in despair. And to recognise we have so much to give, and it was all given for free – out of the goodness of God’s eternal grace – and so we should be giving for free too.

Friends, later today we will have an agenda to follow and boxes to tick. We will have positions to fill and reports to give but let us not forget these lessons from scripture, above and beyond it all…

  • We are carried by a God who loves us, and is safe to obey
  • We can be thankful for God’s love and mercy and unending faithfulness
  • We must have hope in the future because we walk into it with the Holy Spirit
  • And we are called and sent by God to make a difference in this world

And may that be our true agenda. Amen.

Go and learn what this means…

Gen 12:1-9         Ps 33:1-12           Romans 4:13-25         Matt 9:9-13, 18-26

Back in the early 2000s my priest was smart. She sent 4 of us on a course to learn to preach – probably so she could dodge Trinity Sunday for the rest of her ministry. We did 6 sessions and then had to write a sermon on any bible passage we chose and preach it to our course mates. I really wanted to choose some of the verses we heard just now.

‘Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak and said to herself ‘if only I touch his cloak I will be healed’.  Jesus turned and saw her, and said, ‘take heart, daughter, your faith has healed you’ and the woman was healed’.

I loved that story; I have such affinity with this woman who knew shame and exclusion and I wanted to share her sense of isolation and unwelcomeness…and her complete restoration. The problem was, I couldn’t reliably say the word ‘haemorrhaging’ and that was how she was described in my translation of the bible – the haemorrhaging woman. It always came out herromaging. So, I had to choose something else. But her she is again this week, my old friend, and this time she isn’t haemorrhaging at all; she is ‘subject to bleeding’. So, I get a second chance.

This woman had been bleeding for twelve years; 4,383 days. More than 4000 days of feeling exhausted and depleted, socially ostracized and excluded. Twelve years of not being able to enter the temple. Twelve years of not being able to sit anywhere public, or even brush past others, lest they ‘caught’ her uncleanness, or became tainted by her sin. Twelve years of social isolation – not even eye contact was permitted. And she had tried everything to be made well – other gospel accounts say she spent a fortune and visited all the doctors and physicians and still she was bleeding.

Twelve long years. How long is that? Interestingly, it is the same length of time the synagogue leader’s daughter has lived for before she prematurely died. The woman has been bleeding for the daughter’s entire life. But now, they receive complete healing, through the touch of Jesus. These two females – both ritually unclean – are touched and healed by this man who gives no regard to ritual cleansing, nor the sacrifices he would be expected to go through to be made clean again.

Twelve is the number of power and authority and completeness, and this pair of miracles, twelve years in the making, demonstrate something of the new world order Jesus ushers in. You see, in this passage alone, Jesus racks up a whole host of misdemeanours. He calls a tax collector to be one of his closest friends – the lowest of the low – he shares a meal with sinners – probably without ceremonially washing, as was his want – he sees the woman who was bleeding – looks right into her eyes, and calls her daughter – he welcomes this outcast woman intimately into his own family – and then he goes to the place of death – touches the rapidly cooling body of this small child – takes her hand and lifts her to life. Through his power and authority, he brings completeness.

But Jewish society doesn’t allow for things like that, and if Jesus were to be purified from these acts alone, he would have literally required ritual cleansing on days 3 and 7, complete isolation for a week, two turtle doves, two pigeons, a visit from the high priest, a full fumigation with incense, and anointing with holy oil. That would make right the violations caused by the bleeding woman and the dead child. Unfortunately, nothing would cleanse him from his meal with sinners – that was flatly prohibited.

That was the requirement to ‘correct’ the ‘wrong’ Jesus had done. It doesn’t make sense! So is it any wonder the holy one says, ‘go and learn what this means; I desire mercy not sacrifice’.  God does not care for correct living, holy hoop jumping and sacrificial cleansing for any ‘mistakes’, instead God calls us to a much higher account – that we choose mercy, not sacrifice.

This week I took seriously that direction – go and learn what this means: I desire mercy not sacrifice. And here is what I learned…

Sacrifice is predominantly an Old Testament imperative – mentioned almost 250 times, in 29 of the 39 books. It features far less in the New Testament, and on almost every occasion it corrects the previous teachings. Christ’s kingdom is about fully sacrificing ourselves; a whole life offering. Giving all we are, rather than bartering with a vengeful God who needs appeasing. Giving our living and breathing selves, rather than the blood of dead animals.

Mercy is scattered equally across both biblical testaments.

And here is an interesting thing… In the Old Testament mercy always describes a characteristic of the Divine, or a means to receive that gift – like ‘if we build this mercy-seat we will know the goodness of God’. But, when we get to the New Testament the use of the word shifts – mercy is still used to define God, but now we also hear the word as a requirement of those who are trying to follow God too. It is no longer something for us to simply throw ourselves upon, or beg for, it is something we must learn, something we must do.

I desire mercy, not sacrifice, Jesus says. What might that look like?

Mercy to the haemorrhaging woman looks like eye-to-eye contact, a welcome into the family, a healing touch. Mercy to the faith leader’s daughter is new life. Mercy to Matthew is saying ‘you are enough. Come and be my friend’. Mercy to the sinner is a seat at the table. Those around Jesus needed mercy. And those around us need mercy too.

We know we have received mercy. We know we were loved into life and will be recipients of grace and mercy all our lives. But we are made to be channels for God’s mercy to flow through, not vessels to hold it in. We receive so that we might pass it on. We have known mercy, so we might show mercy.

The woman who bled for 12 years reached out and touched the hem of Christ’s cloak and she was healed.

The girl who took the hand of Jesus received life.

As we approach this altar we too reach out, touch Christ, and receive healing and new life.

As we do that today, might we promise to share that with others?

Might we be givers of mercy rather than demanders of sacrifice?

And may the only sacrifice we give be all we have and all we are, amen.

Justice Sunday – June 2023

Justice Sunday – June – Refugee Awareness

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOFu6b3w6c0 Bob Marley – Redemption Songs

  • Welcome, acknowledgment, introduction – World Refugee Day
  • Shape of service: readings, space for silent prayer, music, communion, an action

Let me tell you about my friend Ned

Ned – originally called Taha – left Iran nearly 11 years ago. His life was under threat and he was in very real danger. He left his home and his family with a promise to find a better life for them all. He crossed the waters by boat. Three times his boat turned back because it hit dangerous waters, twice it capsized and two people died during the crossing. There were nearly 70 people on board, daring to hope for a brighter future.

The day came when land was spotted – they had reached Australia – and then the boats came. Ned and all on board were captured by the armed services and detained in a shipping container while they waited to be processed. Within a fortnight everyone else on the boat had an outcome. Ned arrived before the ruling that stated ‘nobody who arrives by boat will settle in Australia’. He had done nothing wrong, broken no rules, and for the first time of many, Ned somehow slipped through the net and was placed in detention.

When a foreigner resides among you in your land, do not mistreat them. The foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love them as yourself, for you were foreigners in Egypt. I am the Lord your God – Lev 19:33-34

Each state has at least one immigration detention centre. Ned has stayed in them all. They are – without exaggeration – prisons by another name. For months on end Ned will not be outdoors. He never gets to make his own food or choose what he will eat. He sleeps with other detainees around him. Most of them are detained for days or weeks – they have overstayed a visa or committed a crime that means their visa is no longer valid and they are waiting to be deported. In the centre where Ned is at the moment, there are 3-4000 detainees and they change on a daily basis. Building friendships is made impossible. Suspicion is a weapon of control. Without warning he can be told he is leaving and 20 minutes later he will be taken to who knows where. Another detention centre? Or might this time be his freedom?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J8BmvxqJH0g – within our darkest night

The community is to have the same rules for you and for the foreigner residing among you; this is a lasting ordinance for the generations to come. You and the foreigner shall be the same before the Lord: The same laws and regulations will apply both to you and to the foreigner residing among you – Numbers 15:15-16

Ned has done nothing wrong. Other people seeking asylum have come and gone since him. Appeals have been made. Documents have been produced and lost. His last proof of ID expired in 2017. According to every system in the world Ned doesn’t exist.

“This is what the Lord Almighty said: ‘Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another. 10 Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the foreigner or the poor. Do not plot evil against each other.’ 11 “But they refused to pay attention; stubbornly they turned their backs and covered their ears. – Zech 7:9-11

In August 2021, Ned waited at a bus stop outside the Perth Immigration Detention Centre, the meagre possessions he had collected during eight years in onshore detention bundled in a small bag.  It was a day of jubilation. After years of fighting to escape Australia’s immigration system, several suicide attempts and countless court appearances, a Federal Court order allowed him to stay at a friend’s house in Perth while waiting for his immigration status to resolve. But his bus never came.

“Waiting for that bus was like my time in detention,” he said.

“On the one hand, I had some hope that it would come. On the other hand, I knew that it wouldn’t.”

At the 11th hour, then-home affairs minister Karen Andrews invoked a provision of the Migration Act that meant that the possibility of Ned living in the community, was no longer possible. She didn’t give a reason.

“Cursed is anyone who withholds justice from the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow.” Then all the people shall say, “Amen!” – Deut 27:19

Ned has been Diagnosed with psychogenic mutism following a suicide attempt and complex post-traumatic stress disorder. He has experienced anorexia, engaged in a hunger strike, and made multiple suicide attempts.

“I had come to expect this disappointment,” he says. “But that was the first day that I came to realise that the courts in this country have no power over the government either.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1AuR8DVmQJQ – freedom is coming

Last month, Ned’s lawyer, Sanmati, went back to court to fight his case again. If he is to win, the outcome will allow hundreds of asylum seekers to live in the community while their immigration status is determined. But decisions are made so slowly. He is still waiting for an outcome to a court case from last November, so he doesn’t have hope.

I will come to put you on trial. I will be quick to testify against …those who deprive the foreigners among you of justice, but do not fear me,” says the Lord Almighty. – Malachi 3:5

Unlike the UK or elsewhere, Australia does not have a system of immigration bail, nor does Australian law impose time limits on how long a person can be in immigration detention.

The department of Home affairs agree they owe Ned protection, that his case is genuine and that he has committed no crime. He is eligible for the ‘fast track’ protection process but time and again his case falls from the table and he slips through another crack in the process. Cases are dealt with arbitrarily and dysfunctionally and all the while he waits in detention. He is bright and clever and very funny and he isn’t even allowed to study.

The Lord watches over the foreigner and sustains the fatherless and the widow, but he frustrates the ways of the wicked. – Psalm 146:9

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veiJLhXdwn8 – freedom gospel song

He could be contributing great things to this country but instead his best years have been stolen from him. He has aged. He has become deskilled. He wrote to me…

[I have multiple questions in my mind] what is this unknown sentence, how many years, years after years, couldn’t be more than a murder but it is a decade so far. You might not be able to see the diseases eating you in the head but the shitty mirror reflects gray hairs to remind you time is passing; time is up, and the world not pausing time for you.

And he goes on to say, that whatever they decide with his case, and with the cases of so many others, it will be too late. He quotes a persian proverb that says ‘it isn’t worth delivering a cure to a person who has died’.

‘I don’t know if I will be free, and if I am, I don’t know what I would do with that freedom’ and heartbreakingly he says, “Hope is like torture to me, I can’t afford it… I am not the person that I was when I came to this country. I do not know what person will walk out of this place.”

24 For in[o] hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes[p] for what is seen? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. 26 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes[q] with sighs too deep for words.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0j8GCYTK_0 – fly free little bird

Share persian food, light candles and pray

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HhbtVCI67pw – way maker in Hebrew, Arabic and English

Write to Josh Wilson

Does the Trinity Matter?

Grace, mercy, and peace from the holy trinity is yours, amen.

Today, the church celebrates Trinity Sunday.  A celebration of a doctrine the church has come to believe via the spilling of much blood and ink from the early Church Fathers.  Gregorys of Nazianzus and Nyssa along with Basil, sat around their table, discussing all manner of things – including the Trinity – which resulted in an argument so big it split the western and eastern churches in two.  And what they came up with is an attempt to understand a God that makes true the crazy sum that 1+1+1 equals 1.  And that doesn’t make sense. 

When I was at college we had two whole lectures on the Trinity, a week apart. 

In the first our tutor gave us the history lesson of that roundtable debate between the church fathers and challenged us to go and find an analogy of the trinity that we liked, one that we thought worked.  In the next lecture we shared our analogies and she told us which heresy we were committing.  Deeply frustrating. 

It seems we had been trying to figure out the un-figure-out-able.

You see, in truth, The Trinity is not like the sun in the sky, with one person being the light, another the heat and another the rays.  It isn’t ice, steam and water.  It’s not like being a father, brother and uncle at the same time, or a chord on a piano.  The trinity isn’t a choir singing in harmony.  Each of those fall short, in one way or another.

And there may be times when one of those analogies is useful to convey something of the wonder and brilliance of God.  But God is bigger.  God is entirely other. 

If God fitted into our understanding, into our mind, God would not be other enough to have created all universes.  If God can be understood, fully, then God’s wisdom is not beyond all comprehension.  If God can be pinned down into time and space, then God was not there in the beginning, ages ago, before the creation of the world.  If God were entirely understandable then there would be nothing left to learn, no truth left for the Spirit to guide us into.  If God fitted neatly into our heart and mind, God would not be the absolute source and essence of love, light, life and all good things.

So rather than understanding the Trinity up here [head]…what we really need is to encounter him, experience her, and allow them to meet and transform us here [heart].  We cannot fully know the Trinity in our minds.  There must come a time when we stand at the edge of our understanding and take a leap.  And it is then that we discover that God, in God’s entirety – father, son and Holy Spirit – creator, redeemer and sanctifier – catches us.

The Holy Trinity comes to us in the waters of baptism, when we are baptised in their name, and in the bread and wine of the mass, when it is transformed before us.  The Trinity comes to us in scripture and in sacraments; sends us out in blessings and dismissals; walks with us and before us and behind us, lives within us and welcomes us into the next life. 

We don’t need to understand it all. Indeed, we cannot. All we need to do is say yes to the eternal invitation to partner with God, for now, for here, for what God wants to do in this generation. So what if we are to become so entwined within the personhood of God that we are almost like the 4th person of the Trinity; invited, called, captured, and caught up, in the love and light and life of God, for our own good and for the benefit of this world.

On Friday I went to a meeting about modern slavery and heard more about the work of Destiny Rescue, in their attempts to disrupt slavery where it is happening and rescue girls from being bought and sold. I heard about Dalia who was rescued at the age of 14 – having been sold for sex to feed her 4 year old daughter and pay the rent for her alcoholic single mum. I learned about Blessing who had been paid 25 american cents – 35 aussie cents – for sex so that she could put breakfast on the table for her brothers and sisters. In this world, in 2023.

A doctrine is not going to help those girls. Trying to understand how God can be both Father and Son or how the Holy Spirit can be equal to the creator is not going to bring rescue and redemption. Understanding doctrine is not our primary purpose, friends. Understanding that God created those precious girls in God’s own image, that Jesus walks among them in the hands and feet of those who rescue and raid and bring perpetrators to justice, and that the Holy Spirit equips and inspires us to join the fight, the Holy Spirit lights the fire in our hearts and bellies to make this world better – that is the true work of the Holy Trinity. That is the true reason for our praise and worship today. That is what we celebrate here. Not a level of understanding, but the vast and dramatic impact that can be had on this world, through the work of the Holy Trinity and our partnering with them.

So, if it is important to you, of course 1+1+1 can equal 1, because God can do whatever God wants. But the more important thing, the essential thing is, so what? What does it mean? And what and how will we change because we are people caught up in the work and life and love and radical transformation of this Holy Trinity. May it be significant. May it be big and may it be soon.  Amen.

So, who cares if we understand that the trinity is or isn’t like the sun or water or a bike or a choir or a chord? Who cares what heresy that is? Who cares which church fathers sat and debated it? It might be interesting, or not. It might even be important for some. But the real truth, the real importance is that God – father, son and holy spirit – creator, redeemer, sustainer – is inviting us to be the 4th part of their holy partnership and is waiting for our response.

Do you hear the voice of the lord saying ‘whom shall I send? Who will go for us?’?

Will you respond, over and over, day after day, with ‘here am I. Please send me’?

Let it be so…

In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy spirit. Amen.

Pentecost 2023

Acts 2:1-21             Psalm 104:26-36              1 Cor 12:1-13         John 20:19-23

Sometimes I read something so brilliant, so perfect, that I want to share more than just the essence of what the writer says. Sometimes I want to share whole chunks of their thoughts, just as they say them. This morning’s sermon is, in large parts, down to the wonderful work of Barbara Brown-Taylor and I thank God and her for many of these words…

Take a breath. Take a breath.

Do you know that the word ‘conspire’ means to breathe together.

So take a breath again…and know we have just launched our own conspiracy!

Knowing this seems to make sense of why the newly risen Jesus would come and appear to his terrified disciples and breathe on them, and say, ‘as the father has sent me, so I send you…receive the holy spirit’.

Keep hold of that thought – of the link between breath and conspiracy and the Holy Spirit. Keep hold of it as you keep breathing through these next few minutes. Keep hold of that thought as you hear this…

BBT writes, ‘If you have studied earth science, then you know that our gorgeous blue-green planet is wrapped in a protective veil we call the atmosphere, which separates the air we breathe from the cold vacuum of outer space. Beneath this veil is all the air that ever was. No cosmic planet-cleaning company comes along every hundred years to suck out all the old air and pump in some new. The same ancient air just keeps recirculating, which means that every time any of us breathes we breathe star dust left over from the creation of the earth.

We breathe brontosaurus breath and pterodactyl breath. We breathe air that has circulated through the rain forests of Kenya and air that has turned yellow with sulfur over Mexico City. We breathe the same air that Plato breathed, and Mozart and Michelangelo…

Every time we breathe, we take in what was once some baby’s first breath, or some dying person’s last. We take it in, we use it to live, and when we breathe out it carries some of us into the next person, or tree, or blue-tailed skink, who uses it to live.

And she goes on to say, ‘When Jesus let go of his last breath – that breath hovered in the air in front of him for a moment and then it was set loose on earth. It was such pungent breath – so full of passion, so full of life – that it did not simply dissipate as so many breaths do. It grew, in strength and in volume, until it was a mighty wind, which God sent spinning through an upper room in Jerusalem on the day of Pentecost. God wanted to make sure that Jesus’ friends were the inheritors of Jesus’ breath, and it worked’.

Today we celebrate Pentecost – the day when a holy hurricane turned lives upside down, forever, and the church burst into flames, burst into life, to bring good news to people everywhere, in words and phrases they could understand; to show everyone, whoever they were, that God was for them – for us – for all people. And it came in fire and words and power and in breath. Everyone was filled with God’s own breath.

And as they breathed God in, so they were changed on the inside.

And as they breathed God out, so the world was beginning to change around them.

Nervous, clumsy people, who always said the wrong thing, suddenly became bold and confident and eloquent. Grieving people became full of hope and joy and lost people found a sense of direction. And when they opened their mouths to speak, Jesus’ voice came out. They healed the sick and spoke darkness into light. And nothing had happened – no additional training or anything like that – they had simply dared to breathe in God…and then breathe God out again. And it turned them into a force that changed the whole world; the same force that propelled us here today, whether we know it or not.

Listen to the way BBT puts it… ‘The Holy Spirit entered them the same way it had entered Mary, the mother of Jesus, and for the same reason. It was time for God to be born again – not in one body this time but in a body of believers who would receive the breath of life from their Lord and pass it on, using their own bodies to distribute the gift’.

That is what we are celebrating here today*. And that’s why today is a specially good day for a baptism! Because in baptism we are doing that too.

In a few moments, baby Ada will be anointed with holy oil – the symbol of the outpouring of God’s Holy Spirit we are all breathing. Then she will be washed in holy water, in the name of God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit. And she will be given the gift of fire – a flame lit from our holy fire here in church – as a reminder that God is light, in whom there is no darkness at all, and as a challenge to go from this place, full of the Holy Spirit, and take God’s light to all the world – to make the world a lighter and brighter place, simply by being in it.

Today we celebrate the first mass outpouring of God’s Spirit at Pentecost and today baby Ada has her own personal Pentecost in and through her holy baptism, and we all get to share in it – get to catch bits of it.

So, as we do that, I encourage you to notice your breath. And know it is God. And as you breathe God in, may you know beyond all knowing that you are completely loved. And as you breathe God out, may you know that even your very breath has power to change the world. And in Ada’s moment of baptism, may your breath be for her – aimed at her, as a prayer for her future, that she too may know she is loved, always, and may this little person one day go on to be a true force for good in this world. Amen.

*At this point I had to divert from the script because the baby was unable to be baptised today, due to Covid. Instead of completing the sermon as written, I invited people to come to the altar rail for anointing with holy oil, for a fresh outpouring of God’s Holy Spirit.

A family friendly talk for Mother’s Day

Our Mother’s Day service was a family service and our sermon was interactive. I printed out each letter of MOTHERS DAY on individual sheets of paper and 10 volunteers held each one, rearranging the letters to form the words in bold-underlined below.

Today is Mother’s Day – a day we can remember our mums and those who have been like mums to us – our sisters, step mums, aunts, grandparents, godparents, carers, and many others…

Some people’s mums are the best; they smell like sweet soap and make the perfect apple pie and never get mad. They smother you from head to toe in kisses and keep the cupboards always full of chocolate.

But for some people, Mother’s Day is one the hardest day of the year because their mum wasn’t perfect, and life was much more ordinary than that. much more complicated, more muddled, more normal…or maybe something worse

And some of us will find a day like today really sad, because our mum isn’t with us and we miss her because she has died, or lives far away, or we feel sad because we would have loved to have been a mama and we aren’t one.

Today’s bible readings had something to say about all of these things, even though they didn’t mention mums and were written a long, long time before Mother’s Day ever became a thing.

The first reading that Jacques read to us, promised us that we are all God’s children – so God is like our mother, a perfect one. One who loves us always, with all her heart.

And our gospel reading promised that we will not be left on our own. I will not leave you orphaned, Jesus said. That means we will always have a parent, right beside us, all of our days on earth, and we will be safe and loved and cared for.

And wherever we are, whoever is nearby or far away, God – our divine mother – our holy mum – will always be a place of refuge, a home for us to go to, every single day until…

…Someday we will be together, forever, in heaven, face to face. Amen.

And this is all amazingly good news. Because we are loved more than we can ever imagine, and we always have our Heavenly Mama cheering us on and helping us out. So, the only bad thing about all of this is that I can’t get the word hamster into the story… haha!

Fun fact: some other words that could have been included in the talk are…

Smother

Rhyme

Death

Myth

Destroy

Stay

Smart

Dream

The Gospel according to Belinda Carlisle

Acts 7: 55-60      Ps 31:1-5, 17-18       1 Peter 2:11-25             John 14: 1-14

Every Monday morning I read the bible readings for the following Sunday so they can be percolating in my brain as the week goes on. Sometimes they trip me up, like those pesky disciples on that flippin’ road to Emmaus a couple of weeks ago. Other times they catch me unawares and unexpectedly, and occasionally they feel like something of a security blanket. The familiar words from John’s gospel, we heard just now, have fallen into that last category.

Yesterday I was in the Supreme Court Gardens in the city, in the rain, with Mareena Purslowe Funeral Directors, speaking at their memorial event for Mother’s Day. And I echoed these words for those that gathered there… In my father’s house – in heaven – Jesus says – there are many rooms…and I am going there to get them ready, and then I will come back and take you there so that where I am, there you may be also.

And because of this – I reassured them – even in our deepest sadness, we can have hope…because we can dare to believe that the place where they have gone is perfect – that our loved ones are free from pain and sadness and confusion. And one day we will be together again.

On Thursday I was at the funeral of a beloved friend and colleague, Belinda, who had died of cancer, aged just 51. Although she hadn’t chosen these particular words for her service we inevitably reflected on her sure and certain place in heaven. She knew, and we know, that Jesus had gone to prepare a place for her and that, from that hospital bed, in her final moments, he came and took her to himself so that where He was, so Belinda would be also.

I know these words so well. I use them over and over at funerals, every single time. They are one of the few bible passages I can quote off by heart; they are so firmly in my head and soul.

So it was interesting that, whilst sitting in the doctors waiting room on Wednesday afternoon, I was visited – via the sound system there – by the 20th century prophet, Belinda Carlisle; that American singer from the 1980s who taught us the very important lesson that, in fact, Heaven is a place on Earth.

They say in heaven, love comes first – she sang – we’ll make heaven a place on earth. Ooh, Heaven is a place on earth

And so it is that I’m looking at these familiar words from John’s gospel from both sides. Yes, we do believe that in our Father’s house there are many rooms – many dwelling places – and we believe that we will be taken there when we die and that we will be with our God, forever, and that the place we are going to is full of light and life and all good things. And, in heaven, love comes first.

But why should we wait? Why would we spend all this life, all these 9 or more decades, just marking time, taking up space, idly waiting for the day when everything will be better – waiting for the day we die – where we will be surrounded by perfection or holiness or extravagant beauty, or whatever other words we want to prescribe to it? Why would we wait when we could be living that life now?!

You know the way to the place where I am going – Jesus says. It is me, he says. I am the way. You know how to get there!

Friends, Jesus was speaking to his disciples before he died. Before he had defeated death and cleared the way to this new world where death no longer has the last word. But we are resurrection people! The time of waiting is over. The work has been done. We can live in the fullness of these promises right now.

And don’t we always pray ‘thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven’?

Do we believe that is possible?

What does God’s Kingdom look like on earth?

And what are we doing to become the answer to that prayer?

As well as food for the hungry and shelter for the homeless…

As well as clothing for the naked and company for the lonely…

Perhaps it is also a church, doing her bit to love this planet and to live lightly on it.

Perhaps it is a place that throws open its doors and says come and eat here – you are welcome – all are welcome.

Heaven on earth looks like freedom for the slave and safe refuge for those experiencing violence in their own homes, and then keeping on working until it becomes a place where slavery is abolished, and relationships are flourishing.

Heaven on earth has open borders and access to education for all.

And at this table, and in this collar, all are invited, and nobody is excluded, regardless of academic achievement or how they identify or who they love.

Yes, Jesus is going to prepare a place for us. But isn’t it always true that we should be emulating what Jesus teaches? Doesn’t it then follow that we should be preparing a place for others – for our children and grandchildren, for the outcast and the stranger and the asylum seeker and those who are in any kind of need. And that place should be here on earth, rather than a pie-in-the-sky promise for when they die.

Love comes first, Belinda Carlisle sang. We’ll make heaven a place on earth.

That 1980s hit was gimmicky, with an annoyingly catchy tune, terrible hair, and dreadful eye makeup. But she was onto something.

Jesus’ final challenge in this morning’s gospel passage was for his disciples to ask for anything in his name, and his heavenly parent would give it to them, with the corresponding promise that we would do even greater things than he had done. So are we prepared to ask for heaven to be built on earth? And then do the even greater thing of being the ones that help to build it. Amen.