Woy Woy Anglican

Invitation to a Fashion Parade

2011-10-27T15:11:00.003+11:00

Fashion Parade of Women's and Men's Clothing
When: Saturday 12th November 2011
Where: Fudge's Boutique
7-9 The Boulevard
Woy Woy
Cost: $10.00 (including light refreshments.
Time: 1.00pm for 1.30pm start
RSVP: Fudges Boutique: 4341 1191
or tickets available from
Anglican Parish Office, 151 Blackwall Rd, Woy Woy
Phone 4344 1347

Commissioning of Revd Murray Woolnough

2011-07-15T15:15:00.001+10:00

The Anglican Parish of Woy Woy
invites you to attend
the Commissioning Service of

The Reverend Murray Woolnough
as Priest-in-Charge of Woy Woy Parish
at
St Luke's Anglican Church
151 Blackwall Road, Woy Woy
on
Thursday 1st September 2011 at 7.00pm.
Refreshments will be served in the church hall.
RSVP by 19th August. Parish Office 43441347
e-mail woywoyanglican@gmail.com

Message from the Revd Murray Woolnough

2011-04-17T12:04:00.002+10:00

Bee, Toby and I have had a great time in the UK but we are really looking forward to being with you in Woy Woy. We're excited about having the opportunity to join in with what God has been doing in the life
of your community.

We are currently in Newbury, about an hour west of London. I serve at St Nicolas' Church, which is the town centre parish. It seeks to be open to people of all ages with a mix of traditional and family-style worship. My time there has been a great, but challenging experience and I feel I have learned a lot. It has been a good place from which to reach out to the local community, and I'm chaplain to the local police force and an air cadets group.

Bee is a social worker, and has been working with the protection of older people. She grew up in West Pennant Hills, not a million miles from where you are. Bee's mum lives in Umina Beach and it will be great to have family close again.

We have a three-year-old son, Toby. Although he was born here in the UK, we have made sure that he gets a decent cultural education - regular doses of 'The Wiggles' and sometimes 'The Man from Snowy River' or books about Aussie animals before he goes to sleep! He's really looking forward to living in Australia.

Please keep us in your prayers as you are in ours.

Appointment of Rector-in-charge announced

2011-04-17T12:01:00.001+10:00

THE REVEREND MURRAY WOOLNOUGH
Parishioners will be glad that the Bishop has made an appointment to the Parish of Woy Woy. It is hoped that the Reverend Murray Woolnough will be commissioned at a service sometime in September. Our thanks go to our elected representatives on the Incumbency Appointments Board for their contributions in the always difficult task of finding a new pastor. Murray has been appointed Priest-in-Charge of the parish.
He is 35 years old. Both he and his wife, Bee, are Australians. They have a 3 year old son, Toby. Murray gained the Certificate of Theology after studies at Wycliffe Hall, Oxford. He was ordained deacon in Oxford in July 2009 and priest in July 2010. At present he is curate at St Nicholas', Newbury, in Berkshire. It is a large parish with 4 clergy. Since the rector has moved on there and his successor has not arrived yet, Murray has been especially busy.
Bishop Farran writes of him. "I am delighted that a priest of Murray's capacity and personality is to be your new priest. I am certain that Murray's experience in a very large and active parish in the Diocese of Oxford will greatly benefit the parish of Woy Woy in its mission and ministry. I am grateful to the members of the Incumbency Appointments Board for their prayerful and careful discerning. I have had the opportunity of interviewing Murray twice both in Newcastle and in London. I am very impressed by him."
Bee Woolnough is a trained social worker. She and Murray were married in early 2004

Art Space Opening

2011-01-21T10:27:00.001+11:00

St Luke's Artspace
151 Blackwall Road Woy Woy

5th Exhibition
IN GOD'S GARDEN
29th January 2011
3pm - 5pm
All Welcome

Farewell Message from Penny Jones

2010-12-09T14:06:00.000+11:00

PENNY WRITES
Thank You everyone for being the most amazing parish ever! We have so enjoyed our journey with you and take with us many happy memories of precious times that we have shared. In the nine and a half years since Jonathan first came to the parish part-time, our daughters have grown from children to young women, and we have grown to love our adopted country of Australia.
We cannot thank you enough for your love, your affirmation, your care and your faithfulness. I wish to give particular thanks for those who have been church wardens, members of Parish Council and volunteers in the Parish office and Ministry Centre during my time as Rector—your enthusiasm and vision have been exceptional, and it gives me great hope that the Parish remains in such capable hands. I want to thank all of you who serve in a myriad different less visible ways, ensuring that the worship and service of the parish continue effectively—thank you one and all.
Thank you also to my clergy colleagues, especially Peter, Max and Neville whose support has been exceptional.
As the winding of the road takes Jonathan and I to Toowoomba we know that we will always have friends in Woy Woy . We hope that you now have friends in Toowoomba! Angel travels with us—at 91 in dog years she is getting a little creaky, but sends her thanks too to all those who have loved and looked after her during her ministry in the Parish Centre.
As we do not yet have full contact details please be assured that you can contact us through the Parish Office of St. Luke’s Toowoomba, and we hope that some of you will visit—but if you all come for next year’s Carnival of Flowers it could be a bit squashy!

Farewell Sermon of Penny Jones & Jonathan Inkpin

2010-12-09T14:01:00.001+11:00

Farewell Sermon at Woy Woy, Sunday 5 December 2010
(Isaiah 51.21 – 52.6 & Luke 1.57-68 (69-79) 80)
(PJ) ‘Now the time came for Elizabeth to give birth’….’Now the time came…’
Recognising the time is at the heart of Christian spirituality: recognising what is the meaning of any moment and what God is doing in it. So how are going at recognising this time and what God is doing in it? Are we - as journey through this Advent season – are we recognising the time: this time in which God is calling us to let go of the past so that we may enjoy new beginnings?
Recognising that God is calling us to a new beginning: that is not always easy, is it? Like the neighbours of Elizabeth and Zechariah in our Gospel story, we may find ourselves struggling to understand what is going on even when we are rejoicing at the new birth which has occurred. We can see and hear that something is happening but we cannot sometimes see their meaning and fresh purpose for us. We may be puzzled, concerned and even a little cast down. Strangely however we may actually then be at the point of resurrection, of fresh recognition. For nothing new comes without the passing of the old, if our eyes and ears are open to the new. Yet too often we remain trapped with the tired eyes and the blocked up ears of the past. This is very much the story of Elizabeth and Zechariah in our Gospel. But what a remarkable new beginning God brings out of it, not simply for Elizabeth and Zechariah, or their neighbours and relatives, but for the whole world.
Well, to explore this further, Jonathan and I are going to share in this homily. After all, our Gospel story does centre on two people, a married couple, and the meaning of the new gift which they are given by God, with all its implications for others. So, together, we are going to reflect on this great text of new beginning and its promise it holds for us all. Jonathan is going to share two stories and we will briefly draw out three key features of this new birth: that is, the significance of the naming of John; the vital importance of Zechariah’s silence; and the challenge to share in God’s purpose for us, preparing the way of God’s justice and peace. So let’s begin with Jonathan’s first story, which challenges us to open our eyes and ears to the surprising possibilities of God.
(JI) Yes, are we open to God’s way of bringing about a new beginning for us all? Perhaps you have already heard the story of the priest who was asked to visit an elderly man in intensive care? The old man had had a severe heart attack and his family were very anxious to speak with him. For just after he had had his heart attack the old man’s Lotto ticket came up as a winner, in a bumper jackpot week. So the family argued about who should go to speak with the old man. For whilst they were very keen to find out from him what we wanted to do with the millions of dollars – for the old man had no will – no one wanted to be the one to cause another heart attack by telling him the exciting news. So what could they do? Who would be such a mug as to take on the job? I know, said one of the daughters, let’s ask the local priest. We haven’t been seen near the church since we were baptized but, well, visiting the dying - priests are supposed to do that kind of thing aren’t they? It is an emergency after all and the priest is the last hope.
So the family approached the priest and, well, he wasn’t too keen to take on the job either. In fact, he was pretty exhausted and depressed. His parish was not going well with problems and changes mounting up. Financially, to be honest, the church was going down the gurgler. He had enough pastoral demands upon him and really did not need another one, still less one which could well involve him being the trigger of someone’s heart attack and death. It was a fool’s mission really which was not going to benefit him. Very gingerly therefore he approached his assignment. He was only allowed a few minutes with the old man but still circled around the issue for which he was sent. He was not enjoying the thought of bringing the question up and still less the possible response. Eventually, with nurses getting anxious, he grasped the nettle, at least indirectly. ‘If you were suddenly to win a very great deal of money – say on Lotto’, he asked the old man, ’how would you share that with your family?’ ‘Oh’, said the old firmly and immediately, ‘I wouldn’t be giving any money to that lot. They’d never really care for me, even on my death bed. No, I‘d give all the money to you, for your parish.’ At once, the priest had a heart attack, and died.
(PJ) How true is that of us, do you think? How often do we so dwell on our past or present problems that we are not open to new life and to the fresh, even very surprising, things which God seeks to give or lead us into? Like Elizabeth’s neighbours, and Zechariah too earlier in our Gospel story, are we too often stuck in attachment, grief and mourning for things that have gone, or which are passing or which never were? Like those neighbours in our story, we may even be encountering new birth but failing to see and understand it. To paraphrase the poet T.S.Eliot, like those neighbours of Elizabeth and Zechariah, we may be having the experience but missing its meaning.
I know that this is a difficult time of transition for many of us here today: not just for this church community as you farewell me as your parish priest, but also for several of us as we pass through griefs, losses, sadnesses and other trials in our personal lives. All those things are very real and hard to bear, but they are, our Advent Good News tell us, truly only passing things. The deeper reality is that, even in the hardest of our trials, God is present and is already creating new life for us. This is the Advent message proclaimed in the prophets, declared again in John the Baptist and fulfilled in Jesus. This is the promise of Isaiah in our first reading this afternoon: the call to us to ‘Awake, awake, put on your strength…Shake yourself from the dust, rise up… For God says to us, in the midst of all our trials and mourning, ‘my people shall know my name…they shall know that it is I who speak; here am I.’

(JI) ‘My people shall know my name.’ Wow, we shall know the name of God: what a significant thing that is in religious terms! Unfortunately, in our contemporary world, we are very blasé about names and naming people and things. In the Bible and our religious tradition however, names are sacred and they are powerful. When God speaks things change. God’s words are never idle. They make a difference. Especially this is the case with God’s naming. For if people know the name of God it means that God’s authority and power will be with them. This is not about describing anything but about making things happen: making God’s things happen! So it is with the naming of Elizabeth’s son. The neighbours expect the child to be called Zechariah, after his father, no doubt according to family tradition. Elizabeth says no, he is to be called ‘John’. The neighbours protest as that name is unknown among the extended family. When they appeal to Zechariah however, he confirms this surprising, even shocking, choice.

(PJ) So what is in the name John? Everything, it seems. This is God’s choice, not the usual family choice, because it points to the child as a new birth not only for his family but for the world. John in Hebrew means ‘God is gracious’ or ‘gift of God’. The child is therefore a gift of God for the world. We, like the neighbours in the story, are thus called to open our eyes and expand our horizons. In this new birth, something new is happening: a new reality is coming into being, for us and for our wider world.

That was Elizabeth’s time to give birth. Can we perhaps see changes in our own time as opportunities for God to help us give birth to something new, not just for ourselves but for others? Can we name these things as God seeks to name them, not as our usual human ideas would name them? Can we be open to God’s new creation?

(JI) So much for the naming of John, though there is much more there for us to reflect upon. Let us look, secondly. at the meaning of silence in our Gospel story: the silence of Zechariah. What is this about? Well, Zechariah was earlier plunged into silence by God when he argued vociferously with the angel Gabriel who came to speak to him, telling about the child he and Elizabeth were to have. ‘Right’, said Zechariah, ‘pull the other one, its got bells on. Elizabeth is way beyond child-bearing.’ For, although he was a priest, a supposed man of God, he, like all of us, couldn’t believe that God would do the seemingly impossible: bring about a new birth. So God, through Gabriel, said ‘right oh, if you are just going to protest about good news, you’d better just shut up until you can accept the good news’ and Zechariah thus became silent until he confirmed his child was indeed to be ‘John’, a name of good news, God’s choice. What does that silence of Zechariah mean to us, do you think? Perhaps it should suggest to us that, like Zechariah, we too shouldn’t be too hasty to rule out the possibility that God intends to bring us good news and new birth in the not too distant future. Like Zechariah, in the face of change, loss, disappointment or other challenge, we may be tempted not to believe, not to have hope in the future, not to trust that God is preparing something new and amazing for us. If so, perhaps we need to spend some more time in silence, in prayer and reflection, pondering the ever-renewing Word of God and allowing ourselves to experience God’s love for us all over again!

(PJ) God’s naming is powerful and in deep silence we can learn to be loved and live again. Which is all to the good, because God has a purpose for us: this is the third, final, and vital aspect of today’s Gospel which we want to highlight today.

What does Zechariah do when he receives his voice back again? He bursts into song, and what a song! Zechariah’s song – which we said together earlier – is a powerful expression of the all-powerful, all-redeeming love of God which he re-experienced in his silent retreat. It begins by affirming that the name of God is being known: as it was in the past, so it is now. And then it goes on to declare the purpose of John, the newly born child. You, he says, to John, but also I think to all of us too, you ‘will be called the prophet of the Most High; for you will go before the Lord to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to his people by the forgiveness of their sins. By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.’ That, my friends, is the renewed purpose to which we are called at this time: this is our Advent calling. We are called, like John the Baptist, to be prophets of peace and justice and pointers to God in Jesus Christ: ‘to prepare his ways, to give knowledge of salvation to God’s people by the forgiveness of their sin… to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet (and those of others) into the way of peace.’ How are we going with that? Well let Jonathan tell his second, true, story to inspire us on our way: the story of Laurence and the ‘treasures of the Church’…

(JI) In the year 258 of the Christian era, the Roman Emperor Valerian issued an edict that all bishops, priests and deacons should at once be arrested and put on trial. The Pope at the time, Sixtus II, was one of the first to be seized. He had however entrusted the treasury of the Church to the deacon Laurence, with instructions to distribute everything to the widows and orphans. This Laurence did, even selling the sacred vessels.
As the Pope was being taken to execution, Laurence followed him in tears. ‘Where are you hurrying to, holy Father? And what have I done – why are you going to the sacrifice without your deacon? I have done your command with the treasures of the Church.’
The Pope replied gently, ‘I am not leaving you, my son. You will follow me in three days.’ (For let’s face it, folks, the good guys usually get it in the neck, sometime). Laurence was indeed soon arrested and the authorities demanded that he should produce the treasures of the Church. ‘The Church is indeed rich’, said Laurence, ‘and I will show you the treasures. Just give me a little time to gather them.’ Time was given, and Laurence went over the city seeking the widows and orphans and the lame and aged and all the outcast whom the Church supported. He gathered them all together in rows in front of the church building, and then went and brought the authorities. ‘Here’. He declared firmly and proudly, ‘here are the Church’s treasures!’

(PJ) You, my friends, are God’s treasures and you will remain as God’s treasures if you keep alert to the times and continue to share the purpose given to the one named John. As that story reminds the laity, you don’t need to worry about bishops, or whether you have particular priests or deacons with you, even though you can continue to give thanks for those, like Laurence and Sixtus II, who have been with you in that purpose. You are God’s treasures and you are called to witness to the love of God in Christ and to be prophets of peace and justice. So just keep on praying and working for peace; walking in solidarity with the poor of the world; sharing the journey of Reconciliation with Aboriginal people; welcoming refugees; caring for the hurting and the outcast; and healing God’s battered Creation. And when you’re feeling down and the best you can do is to waddle about in an ungainly manner, simply remember that you are a ‘pelican people’ and pelicans can never, ever, be kept on the ground: they can fly; boy, can they fly; and with God’s grace, you can fly too. So shake off your sad garments; put on your clown’s clothes; laugh, and, if you must, cry, with joy; and try to love one another as God loves you. As Advent tells us, as Elizabeth and Zechariah learnt, a new birth is always in God’s hands. Thank you so so much. Amen.

Advent 1, 2010 Sermon

2010-12-02T15:53:00.000+11:00

May the light of Christ illumine our hearts and minds, and may I speak in the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Well now as this is the last chance I shall have to speak to you in the context of a Eucharist, I thought today I really ought to provide you with some kind of ‘grades and report card’ for the end of our time together – and I’m giving you a week to work on your appeal.
On speaking of appeal – if there are any children here today, I’m offering a small prize to the one who can count the most number of words in this sermon that begin with the letter A, that relate to the themes of Advent. (Big kids can do this too!)
So we’ve already had two – Advent itself, which of course means to come or approach (oh – there’s another “a” word) and ‘appeal’ which means to ‘cry out and ask for response, as the bowlers do at the cricket match – and that’s what the prophets of the Advent readings do; they appeal to their hearers to respond.
But getting back to your report card. I am most pleased to offer you a final report card of all “A” grades – in spirituality, theology, pastoral care and community engagement!! So you can all relax – you are a triple A parish, and don’t let anyone tell you differently – and by the way your age is no impediment to your ardour, your aspiration or your aliveness!
However, I don’t want you getting complacent, so let’s revisit 3 Advent “As” in particular, which you are very good at, and need to pursue further. And they are of course all in our readings today.
So first of all – are you awake? (Maybe we need to try that one again – are you awake?) – oh good phew – I was a bit worried you were slipping back to a B+ there!
Good – because spirituality is all about being awake. It is about attending – remember the phrase we had on our noticeboard for a while, “show me to what you attend, and I will show you who you are.” It is about understanding things, seeing things, hearing things, reflecting on things. It is about expecting (that’s a good Advent word, but it begins with ‘e’ not ‘a’ so it doesn’t count) to encounter God in the daily events of our lives. It is about being receptive to the “angels” God sends us. To be spiritually awake means to be attentive to God and others, and to be live in love.
So we need to be awake. I sometimes think that the best image for the Advent Season is an alarm clock – for Advent wakes us up; alerts us to what is going on in our world and what is most important, and encourages us to activity in the kingdom of God. As Paul says, we are to pay attention to the light, and not to the darkness. We are to be alive to the needs of others, to seek to actualise a vision of a different world. The very first reading of this new liturgical year came from Isaiah. Isaiah who – as Claude Modavich has pointed out, “700 years before Christ – envisioned the reallocation of resourced from the manufacture of weapons of war to implements of cultivation. Obviously it is better to feed people than to kill them. It is a question that keeps being raised today in Iraq and Afghanistan and West Papua. If more doctors, teachers, nurses and means of development were provided rather than more troops what a different world we might have.”
So are we awake? – are we alert to questions such as these? I believe this parish is awake. – but sometimes things dawn on us only slowly, and there is always more waking up we can do. My prayer is that you continue to be alert to the issues of peace and social justice in our world, for these lie at the heart of our faith, as this well know story shows.

One day a wise and learned rabbi turned to his pupils and asked: ‘How can you tell when the night is passed and the day is on its way back again?”
‘When you see an animal in the distance, and you can tell whether it is a sheep or a goat,” one replied.
‘When you see a tree in the distance, and you can tell whether it is a fig tree or a peach tree,’ another replied.
‘When you can see a person in the distance, and you can tell whether it is a friend or an enemy,’ yet another replied.
There was a number of other answers. But the rabbi was not impressed.
Then his pupils pleaded with him, ‘Tell us what your answer is, rabbi.’
And he replied as follows: “It is when you can look at the face of any human being, and see there the face of a brother or sister, because if you cannot do this, then no matter what time it is, for you it is still night.”

So continue to be “awake”, alert to the returning day, alight in the eyes of our brothers and sisters no matter their background or belief.
I would like to award you an “A” grade in theology for another Advent “A” word – a word whose choice will probably surprise you – but I think it is the only technically correct choice – an “A” for your “Agnosticism Now before you all get up and leave, I’m not accusing you of any lack of faith or failure to believe in God. Quite the contrary in fact. Unfortunately in our era agnosticism has been lumped together with atheism and used to define those who have no religious belief. I am not using the word in that sense. Literally “agnostic” means “not knowing”. As such it is the opposite of “Gnostic” – of those who claim special and certain knowledge, as some of our New Age friends do today. Such thinking was rightly condemned as a dangerous heresy be the early church. For only God “knows”.
The truth is we do not know very much at all with certainty. Today’s gospel is full of our “not knowing” – “they knew nothing”, - “you do not know on what day your Lord is coming” – ‘you do not know’ – you are agnostic in that sense – and that is a good thing, for faith is very different from a supposed certainty. Certainty leads to rigid behaviours and attitudes that are lacking in generosity. But an agnostic faith – a faith that acknowledges its own littleness before the immense mystery of God – allows room for the other, both human and divine. There is a great diversity of theological perspective in this parish. That is very healthy and a huge strength. You embody the possibility that those with differing views can sit and eat with one another at one table in peace, and not resort to shouting at each other. Seek to preserve that diversity – resisting the absolutes that stem from anxiety (for these 2 are not Advent “As”!) – and making time for appreciation and adoration of the mystery of God incarnate in human flesh.
Finally I would like to award you an “A” in pastoral care and community engagement for your “Approaching” – your “coming towards”, which of course is a thoroughly Advent word. To approach is not yet to have arrived – it is the “not yet” of the coming of the Kingdom of God, and part of our every day, lived experience as Christian people. We rejoice that Christ has come, that salvation is ours – but we continue to wait with eager longing for the ultimate fulfilment of all things.
To approach another human being who is not known to us is a scary thing. It requires courage and humility. We may or may not be welcome. There may be things about that person which we have yet to learn and understand that may make our approach more difficult.
The important thing is that we do approach; that we seek to share love and care and forgiveness with one another. And mostly in this parish you do pretty well – and the fact that we have welcomed around thirty new people into our parish in the last twelve months is testimony to that. In our humanness, of course, we make mistakes from time to time. The important thing is that we continue to approach one another – through the Pastoral Link Programme; through all our groups and in our daily lives, seeking to make one another welcome – to provide access to our hearts and lives. When the angel approaches Mary, she is alarmed at first; she wonders what kind of approach this is and does not know how it can be, - but she is awake enough, and agnostic enough, for God to gain access – and her assent (now there’s and Advent “A”!) allows God to act.
So as we are prepared to approach the other – in our congregation, in the wider community through the Artspace, through Little Pelicans, through Australia Day, the Courthouse and the Hospital Alliance to give just a few examples – so we find ourselves approaching the Christ incarnate in our brother and sister in need.
And still more wonderfully we find God approaching us – appealing to our hearts; announcing the Good News that peace and salvation are possible for everyone and in every circumstance. Sometimes the reality of that vision may seem far off. But it is our Advent hope that our approaching and the approaching of God will meet in the glorious embrace we call the coming of the Kingdom of God.
So now before I close with a brief reflection, how have you done with your “A” words!
As Jan Richardson has written (“Night Vision p.56-57) “A seed in the ground. A flame in the darkness. A hand outstretched. A child in the womb. Hope starts small and overtakes us, stretching the borders of what we have known – Hope starts small, even as a seed in the womb, but it feeds on outrageous possibilities. It beckons us to step out with the belief that the action we take will not only bear fruit but that in taking it, we have already made a difference in the world. God invites us, like Mary, to open to God’s radical leading; to step out with sometimes inexplicable faith, trusting that we will find sustenance.”
May the God who perpetually announces Good News, fill our hearts with joy and faith, as we step out on the next stages of our journeys.

Amen.

Sermon 14th September, 2010

2010-11-22T12:52:00.000+11:00

May the words of my mouth and the thoughts of all our hearts be now and ever acceptable in your sight, O God our strength and our hope. Amen.

When the “end of the world” threatens, what is to be our response? When injustice persists; when needless suffering is perpetuated, how are we to behave?

These are the questions that lie behind today’s readings. And each in their own way speaks to our human need for answers in places of great powerlessness and despair. Three responses are proposed which for shorthand we’ll call, woe, wonder and work.
Let’s think about the gospel first. It’s full of words that provide fear and anxiety in us – ‘all will be thrown down”, “beware”, “earthquakes, famines, plagues, portents, persecutions…betrayal – hatred” – and if we were to read a little further desolation, vengeance, wrath, distress and indeed woe.”

These are the words of tragedy – as a young student of the classics I learnt to declaim in Ancient Greek “feu feu oh poppoi, poppoi, poppoi” – which roughly translated means O alas, alas and woe is me!’ In our culture we do not use such language enough. Confronted by the terrible evils and sadness’s of the world, we are inclined to keep a stiff upper lip and refuse to comment. The advent of TV and the internet, constantly bringing us news of disasters from across the globe, has tended to harden and lessen our responses to the human need we see so frequently. We feel powerless and are inclined to avert our gaze. It is good to be reminded that the Scriptures provide some more positive answers to the worlds ills – the first of which, as Luke’s gospel makes clear – is to acknowledge the woes – to be ready to say “yes, these things are happening and we cannot deny or ignore them” – but there is more, and there is hope.

By the time Luke wrote his gospel, the disasters Jesus is here described as predicting had already taken place. The Temple had been razed to the ground, and the world – as the Jews of Jesus day knew it – has already come to an end. Luke portrays Jesus as encouraging his disciples not to lose their focus when troubles come – and to focus on God and not on the troubles that surround them; vital advice in a time of persecution. It is important that we recognise the gospel writer’s concern to provide help for those in present difficulties.

Some people are inclined to read texts like this one as a kind of “timetable to judgment”, using signs that supposedly signal its appearance. Such a reading can be used to frighten others into conversion or repentance, but such was not in my view, in any way the intention of Jesus. Rather he was encouraging his followers in the face of “woes” to trust; to keep following him and to be assured that “not a hair of your head will perish.” Such words of hope belong to the language and spirit of prophecy, rather than its debased form – apocalyptic, into which religious writers are inclined to fall in time of stress. Luke’s persecuted church community was under stress, and it is not surprising that some apocalyptic writing resulted. But even in the midst of this, Luke’s Jesus promises a positive outcome, “by your endurance you will gain your souls”. It is a hope being expressed in time of trial rather as the young Jew Anne Frank hiding in Nazi ridden Holland writes.

Isaiah on the other hand is writing having come out the other side of a time of stress and exile, as the Jewish community of his day moves into a time of restoration and re-building.
His key words are very different – create rejoice, delight, joy, blessed, “build and inhabit”; “plant and eat”.

These last two phrases are especially significant. The community in exile had been living with constant uncertainty – they had no assurance of being able to live in the houses they built, or even of seeing a harvest for their crops. Isaiah speaks from the secure place of restitution of the promise of continuity and freedom from fear.

Isaiah produces not a timetable of destructive signs, but the vision of a better world, whose signs will be “more than natural” – as the wolf and lamb feed together, and the lion eats straw like the ox. Some would see such language as mere utopian dreaming. But this is the language no longer of woe, but of wonder – wonder at what God can do; wonder at the infinite possibilities of divine creativity. Without such wonder we are lost indeed, in a wilderness of our own making.

The understanding that justice, and transformation and peace are possible, is essential to human well being and to our relationship with the divine. God is seen in times of woe, in the “wonder filled” ways in which humans respond with acts of courage and compassion and endurance. Yes, terrible things have always happened, and will continue to happen in our world; but human beings filled with the gifts of the Spirit, love and joy and peace, will continue to transform those disasters. And the proper response to that transformation is wonder.
But there remains a third way in which we are to respond to the disasters of our lives and worlds – and that is work.

Now I have to say that 2 Thess 3.10 in particular – “anyone unwilling to work should not ear” – has been subject to some harmful misinterpretation over the years. The so-called “Protestant work ethic”, which takes its cue from such texts – while it has stimulated much progress and industry – has also stigmatised the unemployed and disabled, and led to attitudes that were unhelpful and uncharitable in some circumstances. So why is this injunction to “work” useful, in the face of the disasters of this world?

Well we have to realise that the Thessalonians who had fallen into the ‘idleness’ for which Paul reproaches them, had done so for a reason. They believed that the end of the world and Jesus’ return was absolutely imminent. So therefore there was little point in working – what’s the use of building a house if it will be destroyed next week? Or planting a vineyard – or anything e else for that matter.

Paul is seeking to remind them that Jesus told us quite clearly that no-one knows when the end will be, and therefore in the meanwhile we are to do our work quietly and earn our own living.

And work of course does not just mean our paid occupation if we are lucky enough to have one. It means the work we do for the Kingdom of God. It means everything we do to lessen the woes of others, and increase the wonder in the world.

And in writing this I can’t help thinking of Kath Vinecombe – she was 91, but not only still jumping; still involved – still working for Red Cross, and Save the Children. She knew she couldn’t live for ever, that her jumping days were numbered – but she kept on quietly working for the things that bring new creation and transformation.
So let’s be like her – let’s acknowledge the woes and work to transform them into wonder. Amen

Serman Sunday 31 sr October, 2010

2010-10-31T18:35:00.000+11:00

Very truly I tell you---just as the Father raises the dead & gives them life, so also the Son gives Life!

May I speak in the name of God, forever creating, redeeming and sustaining. Amen.

I want to talk to you about death; about departure; and about - well, actually - donuts. Death - because like taxes - it is a certainty in an uncertain world; and because it is the eve of All Hallows. Departure - because as Mr Magnorium says, in the marvellous family movie, "Mr Magnorium's Wonder Emporium", "light bulbs die; I depart." And donuts - well, just the thought, like the sugar of the real thing, will probably serve to keep you awake in case you miss something; more about donuts later.
So firstly, death. Death really is a taboo in our culture. We avoid even the word if we can. No one dies any more. We "lose" them They "pass away", and even our funerals have become more of a celebration of life, than an opportunity for grief. Some of you I know are here today, because someone whom you deeply loved has died in the past year. And our hearts go out to you today, because the ache you feel today is shared in some measure by all of us. For to know the joy of human life and love, is also and always to know the pain of human death. And this time of year, All Saints and especially All Souls' - tide is an occasion to acknowledge that, and to address our grief at some little distance from its beginning. It is also an opportunity to set that grief in the context of the promises of the gospel.
Jesus said "Blessed are those who mourn." He meant I believe, that such people have known love and connection and relationship - and therefore have had something and someone to lose; and are happy in that sense. But even more powerfully, Paul writes "Death is swallowed up in victory." For the Christian death is not the end. The resurrection of Jesus shatters the idea that human beings cease to be. Which brings us to the notion of "departure".
Now departures are not easy. Anyone whose even been in the departure lounge of a major international airport knows that. The air is thick with fears, anxieties, hopes, longings spoken and unspoken. Every human parting, as has been said, is a "little death." They are, as it were, "practice runs". Little opportunities to strengthen our wills and our wings for the big "take-off"; chances to experience for "letting-go", that we will need when it becomes our turn, out time "to depart."
As the Bishop of Skondi, Ghana writes, "Those who die in Christ are near to God. They are only sleeping. Death is only a night's kiss from God. It is not death to those who love God. It is an exodus. It is going out to God." We depart in order to be with God which is far better. A little story.
An elderly woman who was a very active and faithful member of her parish for years was dying, and she asked the priest to visit her to talk about her funeral. She said, "When I am laid out in my casket, I want my rosary in one hand, and a fork in the other." The priest was caught by surprise; "You want to be buried with a fork?" "Yes. I have been looking back at all the Church dinners that I've attended over the years. I remember that at all those meals, when we were almost finished, someone would come to the table to collect the dirty dishes, and usually they would say, "Keep your fork." That meant that dessert was coming. When they said that, I knew the best was yet to come! That's exactly what I want people to talk about at my funeral. When people see me in my casket, I want them to turn to one another and say: "why the fork?" ; and I want you to tell them, that I kept it because the best is yet to come."
Jonathan's Aunty Molly, who died this year, would have agreed with that story, for she was fond of dessert, and a wonderful example of Christian faith and service. So finally, while we're on dessert, what about the donuts?
Buried far back behind the American custom of "trick and treating" at this season, lies the medieval Christian tradition of "souling". Beggars would go from house to house asking for food - a "soul cake" in return for saying a prayer for the departed members of a household. They would chant
'A soul cake, a soul cake,
Pray, good missus, a soul cake,
An apple, a pear, a plum, a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry,
One for Peter, two for Paul,
Three for Him who made us all.
Up with the kettle and down with the pan,
Give us good alms and we'll be gone.

Tradition has it that one cook, aware that many beggars were in it for the free food not the praying, decided to reinfuse the custom with proper religious sentiment. So she cut a hole in the middle of her soul cake dough and dropped it into hot fat, inventing the doughnut. The idea was that every time the recipient bit into the circle of dough, representing the endless circle of eternity, they would be reminded of their duty to pray; and of the endless encircling love of God which sustains us all.

So as we come now to remember those whom we love but see no more, let us remember that they are only a little further along the path than we are; all of us travelling back to the source of all life; the endless eternal light and love of God. Amen.

And so let us pray; Loving God we bring to you the memory of our loved ones and the grief we feel; grant them your peace; let light perpetual shine upon them and in your loving wisdom work in them the good purpose of your perfect will, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Sermon 17th October, 2010

2010-10-20T08:04:00.001+11:00

Widow & Unjust Judge/Pharisee & Tax Collector

"The Sounds of Prayer"
- Gregorian Chant!

Sounds are very simple - and we can hear some of them, implicitly in these two stories (small part of what is meant by prayer).

1. [Knocking] - widow "kept coming to him"
- knock can be gentle or loud
- persistent; demands attention.

This Prayer a form of knocking - draws God's attention; draws our attention;
→ ACTION; cp. eg. widow/women in black; mothers of the Disappeared, Woy Woy Hospital Alliance.
Prayer of intercession
↘ not because God is reluctant; because humanity is slow to wake up to the need of another
- God is knocking with us, on behalf of all who suffer injustice
- the widow, the fatherless and the stranger;
KNOCK - draw attention on behalf of another, is to go out beyond ourselves
- "ekstasis" - means to stand outside ourselves; we get our English word 'ecstasy'.
- Seeking a connection beyond our own self-concern.

2. PHARISEE - way story set up
[STATIC - OUT OF TUNE RADIO]
Lost connection with himself, with God, with others whom he despises (complete antithesis of everything we understand by prayer.)
Case is not hopeless (at least he sees the tax collector) - in fact he has all the means of hearing God speak to him - he's just put himself (his ego) totally in the way, so that he's stoppered his ears and created static!
Actually suggests very good ways of connecting with God.
Regular worship in a sacred space - community - habit.
Upright living - choosing ways which leave space for God.
Fasting - remind of God's presence
- increase thankfulness for food and health.
Giving alms - exercise of compassionate care.
Outward actions do help - they turn on the radio -
but there can be no music, no word where there is no reception.
- where those concerned are not willing to receive there is no connection.

3. [BEATING] OF FIST AGAINST BREAST
Tax collector connects
- literally, physically; fist to breast
- emotionally and spiritually expressing in that action his sense of remorse; his desire to be different; the longing that his heart might be softer.
- That's why he goes away "justified"
- "set right"
- his prayer is far from perfect (as all our prayer is) - he's very much focussed still on himself - but his prayer is real, and honest and connected - and there's no substitute for that.

Widow, tax collector and even Pharisee all reveal something of the sounds of prayer - of which we can hear echoes in our own practice of prayer.

In some sense they are all echoes of the sound of God at prayer in us.
For God prays with us, in us, through us - prayer is never a one-way communication; it is always and encounter full of the promise of intimacy.
→ an encounter to which we are constantly, and perseveringly invited.
- just as we are encouraged never to give up so God never gives up on us.
(A) - Knock - tap on shoulder; tug at the sleeve - waking us up; alerting us to the Divine presence.
- in Creation; in compassion, in those we love.
(B) - Word of God - quite clear & direct if we tune ourselves to receive it and we do have a dial to go by. - community - Church.
Scriptures → Patterns of live and spiritual disciplines of fasting and almsgiving. In themselves they will not take us to
God - a bare observance can take us further away.
- but taken together with a willingness of heart, they can enable us to hear clearly, a whole divine symphony - or at any rate a word or two.

(C) - BEATING OF BREAST - prophets speak of need for a heart of flesh and not of stone;
God works on our hearts to soften them - to make them more compassionate.
- like potter with clay;
We can resist and make the task harder - but slow dripping wears away stone -
In each of us, if we are willing, God can wear away a hollow that can hold water
- The living water of the tears of God's compassion.
- a well where we and other can drink.
- and the sound of this prayer of God is us?
- the sound of living water, babbling and rushing - and bring healing to us and to the world God so long to restore.
In whose name.
Amen.

Notice to the Anglican Parish of Woy Woy

2010-10-19T10:16:00.000+11:00

I have some very emotionally difficult news to share with you.

As you will be aware, for several months Jonathan has been seeking new vocational opportunities, especially with the end of his work with the NSW Ecumenical Council, which took effect in July. We have consequently explored a wide variety of possibilities, not least a number of local avenues which would have enabled us to remain here. None of these have however borne fruit. As a result, after lengthy prayer, discernment and consultation, Jonathan and I have decided to accept the offer of two new appointments, as Rector and Associate Priest respectively, in the Parish of St.Luke, Toowoomba, in the Diocese of Brisbane.

It would be fair to say that we would never have expected such a move. Indeed the regional bishop who approached us himself described this as coming ‘out of left field’. Although, if opportunities locally were not available, we were open to looking elsewhere, Queensland was not on our agenda. However God moves in mysterious ways. The diocese is very welcoming and the parish can afford fully to support the ministry of a married couple. How the people of such a beautiful but socially conservative city will cope with the two of us remains to be seen! – but we do discern God’s leading in this. The parish, which has been at a low ebb for some time, certainly needs gifts like ours and we feel that we must respond to the calling. It will, above all, fulfil a long-held dream for the two of us to minister together fully in one community.

This has not been an easy step to take. For we are very sad to be leaving all of you, and the many friends and contacts we have here on the Central Coast. We have been wonderfully enriched by our time here and especially by all we have shared in this parish – which in Jonathan’s case extends over nine and half years. There will be opportunity to celebrate something of this in the next few weeks. For the moment we hope that you will forgive us for our news, and understand that we have had little real choice in this but to accept God’s gracious gift to us of shared work work to do and a place to be together.

At present, arrangements for our move are a little uncertain, but it is expected that we will leave the parish in mid-December. Before then I am sure that there will be much to discuss and, I hope, adequate time for farewells. This is a loving, and very blessed, parish – you know that we have always said that, and you need to know and celebrate it again. For I have every confidence that you will all continue to work together, to maintain and grow the ministry of this parish. God has assured me that you will ‘figure it out’ and that this change will offer a vital and necessary moment to move forward into a fruitful new stage in the life of the parish. My prayer is that you will come to approach our news in this spirit, so that, in due course, you will joyfully welcome a new Rector worthy of the huge privilege of serving you in this wonderful place. Thankyou.

Penny Jones 17.10.10

Sermon - Blessing of Animals - St Francis-tide

2010-10-07T15:41:00.003+11:00

3/10/10 BLESSING OF ANIMALS – ST FRANCIS-TIDE

I must admit that when I first looked at today’s reading list, I thought there must have been a mistake made. Some of you may be thinking that too! Why two gospel readings? – what’s going on?

However as I sat with those readings in order to prepare this sermon, I began to realise why they had been chosen, as we come at the conclusion of the Season of Creation, to celebrate and remember St. Francis of Assisi, who in 1980 was declared the patron saint of ecology. For in their different way’s, they express some key aspects of Francis’s life and teaching, which are exemplary for us – for Francis brought to the church 3 radical things –
• A respect for revelation
• A demand for mercy
• A call to poverty

And I choose the word radical advisedly – for it means to be at the very root of something. And Francis was a radical- he was proclaiming a gospel that went to the origins, to the tap root; to the very source of life of Christianity itself. His was a message that challenged the wealthy and corrupt medieval church of his day, to return to the simplicity of Jesus’ original promise of “good news of the poor.”

In our reading today from Galatians, we hear a young St Paul expostulating with the kind of fervour that Francis would (much later) demonstrate – and indeed there are words here which well describe the transformative journey of Francis’s life. Paul writes -

“If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

Francis would have sympathised, for as many of you probably know, he was the son of a wealthy merchant, and enjoyed the lifestyle that went with that. However as a young man, he went to war and was taken prisoner. After a year in prison he was released, but fell very sick and these two experiences proved to be transformative, preparing the ground within him for God to offer a decisive moment of revelation.

Wandering through the streets of Assisi, he entered the run-down church of San Damiano. As he prayed there, “he saw a vision of Christ Speaking to him, saying ‘Repair my home, which is falling into disrepair.’ Ever literally-minded, Francis began to raise the money to pay for the re-building of San Damiano by selling a bale of cloth from his father’s warehouse. A fiery conflict ensured between father and son, which ended only when Francis dramatically renounced his inheritance, throwing down even the clothes he was wearing, and left empty-handed to espouse ‘Lady Poverty’.” from the Wordsworth Dictionary of Saints by Alison Jones).

The words of Paul “I want you to know that the gospel that was proclaimed by me is not of human origin, for I did not receive it from a human source, nor was I taught it, but I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ” (Galatians 1.12), would have found a clear echo in Francis’s experience. His was a certainty born of direct, personal encounter with the divine – literally and ex-static experience; for the word ek-stasis means to “stand outside” oneself. It led him to “stand outside” his former life, to shed its habits and expectations as he shed his clothes; and to begin an entirely new way.

By begging, he eventually got together enough money to restore San Damiano’s, and others were drawn to follow his example – within ten years, there were 5,000 brothers following his “Simple Rule”, and as result of his friendship with Claire, sisters, The Poor Clares, soon followed.

What was it that attracted them? The simplicity of the rule! The holiness of the man and his attested ability to perform miracles? Probably! Certainly one of the things that attracted them was the radical mercy that Francis practised himself, and encouraged others to practise also. He took literally Jesus’ words to the lawyer in the story of the Good Samaritan we heard as our second reading today, “go and do likewise.” He is often quoted as saying, “Preach the Gospel at all times, and if you must use words.” – that is to say, use deeds rather than words to witness to the love of Christ for the world, but use words if you have to. Hence Franciscans are noted both for their deeds of compassion and for their evangelistic zeal. Many of them are among the world’s peace activists, seeking always ways to end the wars that so unjustly hurt the poor more than the rich; and often being active in missions to parishes, recalling ordinary fold like us to the extraordinary love of God for us.

Many of you will recall, in this tradition, the visits that the Little Brothers of Francis have made to us; and we remember them and pray for their ministry today. They of course are Contemplatives, committed to that essential life of silence and prayer that sustains the rest of us – leaving their hermitages only two or three times a year. Theirs is a life of radical poverty – sustained by their vegetable garden, their goats, their bees and whatever funds they gain from selling jams and cards. It must be a hard life at times. Yet no-one who has met Bros. Geoffrey, Wayne and Howard can have missed their joy – their lightness of step and twinkle in the eye.

Like their founder Francis, they have found by embracing poverty, a great freedom. They have learnt indeed, as our Gospel today says, that life is “more than food, and the body more than clothing.” (Matthew 6.25). Theirs is a lifestyle which truly challenges the consumerist idols of our day, and encourages us to re-think our notions of ownership and what is “enough”.

As Tom Cullinan, a Benedictine monk and peace activist from England, remarks, “Too many groups work at the level of nuclear arms or arms sales and not enough ask why it is that wealthy nations need armaments. There’s a tie-in between the arms race and our concept of ownership; what it means for a thing to be mine or yours. If I’ve got things, I have to defend them: if I own things, I have to lock my front door. And it’s at this deep level that monastic life ought to be relevant. We ought to say that nothing ever belongs to any of us. We need a new vision of ownership. But we can only say it by doing it, not by merely voicing it.”

In other words it is essential that we walk the talk. And Francis, and those who now follow after him, set an example of this for us to follow.

It is all too easy to dismiss him by rendering him “cute” – that diminutive little fellow in a brown dress, pictured with gentle animals around him and doves perched on his head and arms. The pre-Raphaelite pictures of a meek and mild Jesus, with long golden hair, blessing the little children, which some of you will remember from Sunday School books, have something of the same effect.

There was, I believe, nothing at all “cute” about Francis – or Jesus for that matter.

By his actions, far more powerfully than his words, he offered a radical critique to the church of his day, which still resonates today. Accepting a unique revelation, he recalls Christians to lives of mercy and poverty/

In our own day, this calls us to widen our hearts, embracing all nations and people and seeking always paths of peace and non-violence. But perhaps above all, Francis encourages us to embrace the fundamental right to life of other species. The accounts of his life are full of the tales of him preaching to the birds and taming the wolf. Hence the tradition of bring domestic animals to the priest to be blessed on his feast day. But much more is at stake here than simply seeking the health and well being of animals whom we value – important though that is.

It is clear that Francis’s attitude to animals and his skill in communicating with them, grew out of his long hours of prayer and time spent with God. He learnt from God to notice, value and reverence all living things, and this has wide implications. For the moment we accept for example that the bush stone curlew, now nearing extinction here on the Central Coast, is to be valued, we have to begin to change our human behaviour – thinking about those habits of ours that destroy habitat and food supply.

Such change is radical. It involves repentance, and different action. It goes beyond an attitude of “on aren’t the birds pretty – they really bring beauty to my place”, to transform us, so that we begin to understand that we do not own the world, but like all God’s creatures we are privileged to share its riches for a while, and must take some responsibility for all who will come after us, human, animal, bird, frog, fungus and bactium, - and this may mean us “letting-go” of some comforts we currently enjoy. It is a call to poverty – to leaving what we have, in order that others may thrive; and so that we may more easily draw near to God.

Francis indeed is a saint for our times, for he alerts us to the messages of Christ in the gospels – messages about the need to practice mercy towards others (and in our era that includes the animals, birds and forests, as well as other humans, who are currently being “set upon by robbers and left half-dead.”); Mercy of course is sometime translated “compassion”; and Thomas Merton on the day he died makes the point well, in relation to the need to expand our mercy to all living things when he wrote, “the whole idea of compassion is based on a keen awareness of the interdependence of all these living beings, which are all part of one another and all involved in one another.” Francis alerts us too, to the messages’ about the need for poverty – for letting go of our need for things and for security, in order to develop a more radical dependency of God.

Francis is a challenging saint – to follow him is not to conform to the norms of our culture; but as Paul said,

“If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

Amen

Art Space Opening - 'Heaven's Alive'

2010-09-18T14:44:00.002+10:00

You are invited to the Official Opening of the next St. Luke's Art Space Opening.
Saturday 2nd October 2010 at 3pm, to be opened by Elder Ray McMinn.
Performances by local Indigenous Dances, 'Minning Minni Kawrine'.
Local Harpist Nishila.
Light Refreshments will be served.
RSVP 4344 1347 by 27th September.

Sermon for Fauna Sunday in the Season of Creation

2010-09-13T19:12:00.001+10:00

Sermon for ‘Flora and Fauna Sunday’ in the Season of Creation,
in the parish of Woy Woy 12 September 2010, by Jonathan Inkpin

Years ago in the east end of London, I once met a remarkable old lady. She was what some call a ‘bag lady’: a homeless woman who carries her possessions with her, perhaps in just a pair of plastic bags. Her story was typical of many homeless people, although also very unique, like those of every homeless person. In this lady’s case, she would tell a very brief biographical tale on a kind of continuous loop, beginning with the words ‘I was a Barnados girl’ which, when she repeated would start her off again on her abbreviated life story. Was she then a sad person lost in a tiny, poor and very vulnerable world, cut off from the rest of us? No, not exactly. For she was in some ways much more in touch with existence than most, if not all of us. For this seeming poor and aged waif had a remarkable quality: the ability to see the plants and animals alive around her, even in the middle of such a busy and environmentally threatening city as London. If you walked along with her for just a minute or two, your eyes and ears would be opened to the animal and plant life you almost always missed: the grass and the sometimes beautiful flowers which pushed through the concrete and the cracks; the birds and the insects and the wildlife which, sometimes incomprehensibly, managed to thrive in the otherwise all-too-human jungle of the city. Almost everyone else was too busy or self-obsessed to ‘consider’ these ‘birds of the air’ and ‘lilies of the field’. It took a similarly over-looked human being to notice and celebrate these astonishing signs of God’s resistance. And, as she drew you into such contemplation and celebration, you thereby discovered the presence of mystery and grace.

Do we hear what the animals and plants, the flora and fauna of our world, have to say to us? I wonder how well we do...

Hands up anyone who has learned something from living with, or observing, a bird, or a plant, or an animal...
...which creatures have ‘spoken’ to you?

Surely all of us have learned something from the animals and plants of our world. For, as a great Christian mystic (Meister Eckhart) once wrote, ‘every creature is a word of God’. Every creature is part of God’s Creation and everyone, even those we do not like very much (the biting and dangerous creatures perhaps), has something to tell us about life and the nature of the one God, that great creative mystery, in which we all share. Isn’t this what Jesus is saying in today’s Gospel, today’s ‘Good News’? Certainly Jesus’ words challenge us to listen more deeply and learn more fully from the other creatures, the flora and fauna, of our world. As we do, like that ‘bag lady’ I mentioned, we are led into a deeper sense of mystery and God’s grace.

Do we look and listen properly however? Do we really appreciate the other sentient creatures around us? Do we glean from them spiritual wisdom, as Jesus did, or do we regard them too much as merely background additions for our use or entertainment? For we live in an age when this contemplative challenge has become ever more important.

‘Listen humans, this is our world too. For hundreds of millions of years we (the other creatures of this world) have been evolving our ways. Long, long before you came into being, these were rich in our own being. Now our days are coming to a close because of what you are doing. It is time for you to hear us.’ (from Joanna Macy ‘World as Lover. World as Self’ p.188 ff)

Those are words from a highly creative learning exercise known as the ‘Council of All Beings’, developed by the Australian environmental campaigner and educator John Seed and the writer and spiritual teacher Joanna Macy. This exercise has been used in many places, not least schools, to try to enable human beings to engage more empathetically with the sufferings as well as the joys of other creatures than ourselves. It is a highly imaginative and fun activity, which can involve the making of colourful masks and costumes, as each human participant takes on the role of a different creature. Gathered in a circle, this ‘Council of All Beings’ then addresses the human race. In turn, each is asked to share what they feel their particular creature might wish to say to us. Here are a few contributions from one particular gathering...

‘Listen humans, I am lichen. I turn rock into soil. I worked as the glaciers retreated, as other life-forms came and went. I thought nothing could stop me...until now. Now I am being poisoned by acid rain...
Listen humans, I am warbler. Your pesticides are in me now. The eggshells are so fragile they break under my weight, break before my young are ready to hatch..
Listen humans, I am raccoon. I speak for the raccoons. See my hand? It is like yours. On soft ground you see its imprint, and know I’ve passed. What marks on this world are you leaving behind?’

Perhaps we can try to imagine what other creatures might say? Think for a moment, for instance, of a bird or animal precious to you – maybe one of the many beautiful but endangered creatures, such as the large forest owls or squirrel gliders of our own Central Coast. What are they feeling and experiencing? What would they say to us if we listened to them?

The reality of course is that our modern world is very unkind and inhospitable to animals in general. Yes, in some ways human beings do love some other creatures quite well, but these are typically a handful of species we have turned into ‘pets’, like dogs and budgies and, to the extent they can be tamed, cats. Other species however do not fare quite so well. Scandalous numbers of birds and animals are needlessly destroyed and abused each year. Unnecessary extinctions of whole species continue to take place as their numbers and habitats are destroyed by human greed and ignorance. Modern so-called ‘civilisation’ exacts a terrible toll, particularly through its human-centred assumptions and technology.

So what does the God have to say on the matter?...
Well, we have heard from our Gospel today that God cares for the humblest bird and flower. When Jesus says ‘consider the lilies of the field’ and how they are clothed by God, or ‘consider the birds of the air’ and how they are fed by God, he is affirming how important they are to God. If human beings may be counted especially important this therefore does not reduce the value of other animals and plants. Rather it challenges us to share with them the same kind of care and compassion which God displays.

What a difference that would make! We must of course be wary of sentimentality at this point. The other-than human world would not be a paradise if human beings were withdrawn from it. Nature in all its guises is not only a place where God may be revealed. It is also ‘red in tooth and claw’, full of brokenness and violence not merely of human making. Anyone who loves cats for instance, must recognise the capacity of other animals to inflict unnecessary pain. At the heart of much understandable atheism or agnosticism is often a similar awareness of the suffering which is an inextricable part of the Creation as a whole. Greater human kindness to animals will not change this. And yet...

The fundamental affirmation of the Bible is that Creation is ‘good’ and that God seeks to bring all things into perfect harmony. For, as we see from the beginning in the book of Genesis, all things are created to be in relationship with one another. The earth and the heavens, the animals and the plants, and, finally, human beings, all are created to live in partnership with one another, not exploitation. One of the deepest expressions of this is found in the book of Isaiah (ch.11 vv.6-9), where the prophet speaks of God’s intent that:
‘the wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them. The cow and the bear shall graze, their young shall lie down together; and the lion shall eat straw like the ox. The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den. They will not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain (says God); and the earth will be full of the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.’
Wow! That is truly a ‘new Creation’, isn’t it?!

Indeed it is. For this is part of the messianic promise: the vision of the new Creation which will come about, according to Isaiah, when the Messiah comes. When the Messiah comes, God says, then all the violence in Creation must be ended. This includes the violence suffered and inflicted by animals, as well as the violence humans suffer and inflict on others. The Messianic age may still be ahead of us but it has already begun in Jesus Christ.

So how are we doing with that? Are we living and working towards such a healing of Creation? If so, we might be doing a great deal better in our attitudes and behaviour towards animals, not just the domestic variety. We could be realising afresh that we ourselves are animals and are kith and kin with all other creatures, themselves also valuable in the sight of God. We could be saying ‘no’ to unbridled development and the destruction of eco-systems upon which our fellow sentient creatures depend. We could be reconsidering the amount of meat we eat and the methods of production. We could be dancing with joy like St.Francis at rediscovering our intimate relationship with all the creatures he acknowledged as brother and sister.

‘Consider the lilies of the field.... the birds of the air... the beasts of the field ’ Do we?

I spoke earlier about the imaginative exercise called the ‘Council of All Beings’ and I commend that kind of empathy towards animals to you. For, by considering the lilies and the birds and beast in such a way, we not only name some of their hurt but we also discover some of their strength. As we contemplate our other-than human brothers and sisters, we begin to find within ourselves the qualities we need to be strengthened. This is part of the gift of God in Creation on which we can draw. So let me conclude in this way and encourage us all to walk in the ways of Jesus and the holy ‘bag lady’, listening and drawing upon the wisdom of God in our fellow creatures. For, in our contemporary world, in the midst of unprecedented ecological challenge:

‘It is a dark time. (so) As deep-diving trout I offer you my fearlessness of the dark...
I, lion, give you my roar, the voice to speak out and be heard..
As rainforest, I offer you my powers to create harmony, enabling many life-forms to live together. Out of this balance and symbiosis new, diverse life can spring...
I am caterpillar. The leaves I eat taste bitter now. But dimly I sense a great change coming. What I offer you, humans, is my willingness to dissolve and transform. I do that without knowing what the end-result will be; so I share with you my courage too.’ Amen.

Sermon 29th August, 2010

2010-08-29T14:01:00.000+10:00

Our Gospel today is all about hospitality and about what is important in the giving and receiving of hospitality.

Jesus urges those who are guests not to choose the best seats.

And he urges those who are hosts not to choose the guests who can repay them, but the people who actually need their generosity.

When we use the word ‘hospitality’ we tend to think about welcoming others to share a meal, to morning tea after church, perhaps to stay in our home for a holiday – and these things are very important to the life of any community. But we might want to think metaphorically as well as literally - about how hospitable we are to new ideas; to people whose views are very different from ours; and about how we feel about receiving from God and from others – remembering that it is often much more difficult to receive than to give. Are we hospitable to those who seek to give to us?

It is harder than we think, isn’t it? We all know that hospitality is important in our spiritual lives. We know that sharing is of the essence of Christian discipleship. We know that we ought not to distinguish between people on any grounds, but always look for the good in them, seeking to see them with the gentle eyes of Jesus’s love, and give to them and receive from them accordingly.

We know these things. But somehow it is not always so easy to practise them.

Pelagius defines the Christian as one ‘whose door is closed to no-one’ and ‘whose food is offered to all.’ No doubt we would all find that hard to live by, (whether we take it literally or metaphorically) and indeed there is a right need for boundaries that protect, as well as for the pulling down of walls that exclude. But which is a boundary and which is a wall? – and how do we prevent the one becoming the other?

Ray Simpson, who visited us here on the Peninsula some years ago from the Northumbria community, tells us that the community “pledge themselves to ‘availability’. To be available means that we are willing to give time, shelter or sustenance to anyone, if Christ inspires us. We do not do this upon demand: that would be to become a doormat, and would prevent us being available for God’s priorities, but we will be open to it, and we will always have an hospitable heart.” (Ray Simpson,’Exploring Celtic Spirtiuality’)

To have an hospitable heart – what does that mean? You might like to ponder that this week, and what it might mean in your place and situation. Part of what it means I believe is to always assume that the person we are looking at, or speaking with is made in the image of God, just like us. That something of the glory of God is reflected in them, no matter how obscure that glory may seem to be; and no matter how profoundly we disagree with them, or how much we dislike what they are doing or saying, we always retain a little ‘space’ in which we remind ourselves,’this is a child of God and to be honoured as such.’

The Christian writer Kathleen Norris writes:”In a world in which we are so easily labelled and polarised by our difference – man/woman, Protestant/Catholic, gay/straight, feminist/chauvinist (we could add black/white) -..hospitality is a model fo the kind of openness that we need if we are going to see and hear eachother at all….. (It) is at the centre of our Christian faith – the bread of the eucharist is called the ‘Host’ after all, and for good reason. Chruch hierarchies…become inhospitable whenever they forget they are not the centre.”
(Kathleen Norris,’The Cloister Walk p.179)

At the centre of course is God. And all our attempts at hospitality are a pale reflection of the hospitality that is at the heart of Godself. So you might like this week in your prayer to imagine yourself a guest at God’s table – as of course we are at every eucharist. Imagine yourself welcomed and invited in; given a place at the table; looked at with love and generosity. Such a meditation can be very moving, as we realise our total unworthiness to be there at all and the extraordinary love of God who receives us. Finding ourselves so welcomed, can soften our hearts as we seek to welcome and receive others into our lives and homes. For as the epistle reminds us, those who welcome strangers, welcome angels unawares – or in other words, God is always present in the stranger, whether or not we recognise that fact.

To welcome the stranger – whether in the form of an unfamiliar human being or an unfamiliar idea – requires courage; the kind of God-given courage that helps us to open our hearts and incline them to love. Yet,”God is among us. In a world where we see only in part and know even less, it is hard to spot God. …It is not important that we recognise God in the stranger; God is there whether we notice or not. We can just assume that fact and do the next thing – accept the stranger. What matters is that we stretch our hearts open and draw near to each other. It is the way of hospitality, the way of life, and…. the only way home.” (from Radical Hospitality
Homan and Pratt p233)

And so now in the spirit of that hospitality it is my great delight to welcome Denise Brown and Grant Killen to talk to us about Cursillo; may we welcome these strangers with their strange ideas with open hearts and minds.. Amen

Sermon Handout 15th August 2010

2010-08-19T12:27:00.002+10:00

MARY
MOTHER OF JESUS

‘Together with a radical re-reception of Scripture as the fundamental touchstone of divine revelation, there was a re-reception by the Reformers of the belief that Jesus Christ is the only mediator between God and humanity. This entailed a rejection of real and perceived abuses surrounding devotion to Mary. It led also to the loss of some positive aspects of devotion and the diminution of her place in the life of the Church.’

The person of Mary, the mother of Jesus has been venerated in many different ways by Christians over two millenia.
In doing so, faith, hope and love has been immensely deepened. However some of these different understandings of Mary have been, and continue to be, sources of division between Roman Catholic, Orthodox, Anglican, Protestant and Pentecostal followers of Christ.
Muslims and Jews have also reflected profoundly on Mary.

What do you understand about Mary,
and what difference can she make to your life?

here are a few ideas for your own reflection,
drawing on the ARCIC statement ‘Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ’ (2005) from which all quotes are taken …
Mary as a ‘model of discipleship’

Saying ‘Yes to God’ (Fiat)
‘Mary stands before us as an exemplar of faithful obedience, (offering)… the grace-filled response each of us is called to make to God, both personally and communally… It is as a figure of the Church, her arms uplifted in prayer and praise, her hands open in receptivity and availability to the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, that we are one with Mary.’
Read:Luke ch.1 vv.26-38
& Reflect on what God may be calling you to be or do today…

Bearing God (the Theotokos)
‘In the early Church, reflection on Mary served to interpret and safeguard the apostolic Tradition… testimony to Mary as ‘God-bearer’ (Theotókos) emerged from reflection on Scripture and the celebration of Christian feasts, but its development was due chiefly to the early Christological controversies…and their resolution in successive Ecumenical Councils, reflection on Mary’s role in the Incarnation was integral to the articulation of orthodox faith in Jesus Christ, true God and true man. In defence of Christ’s true humanity, and against Docetism, the early Church emphasized Jesus’ birth from Mary. He did not just ‘appear’ to be human; he did not descend from heaven in a ‘heavenly body’, nor when he was born did he simply ‘pass through’ his mother. Rather, Mary gave birth to her son of her own substance.’
Read:Luke ch.2 vv.1-7
& Reflect on the gifts and love of God which you are given and how you can bring them to birth in your life…

Blessed in down-to-earth, ‘incarnate’ loving (Humus)
‘Just as in Elizabeth’s salutation the mother receives a blessing of her own, distinct from that of her child (1:42), so also in the Magnificat Mary predicts that “all generations will call me blessed” (1:48). This text

provides the scriptural basis for an appropriate devotion to Mary, though never in separation from her role as mother of the Messiah.’
Read: Luke ch.1 vv.39-45
& Reflect on how God is blessed in your daily bodily activities…

Praising God in Liberation (Magnificat)
‘Although the witness of her obedience and acceptance of God’s will has sometimes been used to encourage passivity and impose servitude on women, it is rightly seen as a radical commitment to God who has mercy on his servant, lifts up the lowly and brings down the mighty. Issues of justice for women and the empowerment of the oppressed have arisen from daily reflection on Mary’s remarkable song… Only when joy is joined with justice and peace do we rightly share in the economy of hope and grace which Mary proclaims and embodies.’
Read: Luke ch.1 vv.46-55
& Reflect on where God is working among the poor today and how you may support and give thanks for this …

Self-Emptying (Kenosis)
‘Mary epitomizes such participation in the life of God. Her response was not made without profound questioning, and it issued in a life of joy intermingled with sorrow, taking her even to the foot of her son’s cross. When Christians join in Mary’s ‘Amen’ to the ‘Yes’ of God in Christ, they commit themselves to an obedient response to the Word of God, which leads to a life of prayer and service.’
Read: Acts of the Apostles ch.1 vv.12-14
& Reflect on what God may be calling you to

Nurturing new community (Koinonia)
‘These last commands of Jesus before he dies reveal an understanding beyond their primary reference to Mary and “the beloved disciple” as individuals. The reciprocal roles of the ‘woman’ and the ‘disciple’ are related to the identity of the Church. Elsewhere in John, the beloved disciple is presented as the model disciple of Jesus, the one closest to him who never deserted him, the object of Jesus’ love, and the ever-faithful witness (13:25, 19:26, 20:1-10, 21:20-25). Understood in terms of discipleship, Jesus’ dying words give Mary a motherly role in the Church and encourage the community of disciples to embrace her as a spiritual mother.’
Read: John ch.19 vv.25-27
& Reflect on who you can build deeper relationships with and grow in the Christian family …
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Mary: Grace and Hope in Christ" is the 5th statement of the second phase of the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission (ARCIC) and brings to completion the mandate the Commission was given when it began its work in 1983. The group which agreed the statement was co-chaired by Archbishop Peter Carnley, former Anglican Primate of Australia. Further information about it can be found on the Internet at:
http://www.anglicancommunion.org/ministry/ecumenical/dialogues/catholic/arcic/index.cfm including a link to the the full text.

‘The scriptural witness summons all believers in every generation to call Mary ‘blessed’; this Jewish woman of humble status, this daughter of Israel living in hope of justice for the poor, whom God has graced and chosen to become the virgin mother of his Son through the overshadowing of the Holy Spirit. We are to bless her as the ‘handmaid of the Lord’ who gave her unqualified assent to the fulfilment of God’s saving plan, as the mother who pondered all things in her heart.’

Handout compiled by Jonathan Inkpin & Penny Jones
for the parish of Woy Woy 15.8.10

Sermon. 1st August 2010 - Luke 12:13-21

2010-08-02T09:06:00.001+10:00

1st August, 2010
Luke 12:13-21
May I speak in the name of the God who loves us, Father, Son & Holy Spirit.

"If you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is" and
"is that renewal Christ is all, and in all"

The writer of the letter to the Colossians was urging those young Christians to keep their focus; to keep their focus very simple; and to let go of habits and ways of life that were unhelpful, if not downright dangerous, and in some cases idolatrous.
The link between greed and idolatry is a clear one. When we accumulate stuff of whatever kind, thing, money, prestige, - beyond our need, we are in danger of putting that "stuff´ in the place of God, and that is idolatry. And it's not that idolatry hurts God - God is much greater than our petty obsessions; it is that it hurts us - it hurts our integrity, our capacity to be compassionate and whole human beings - and that hurts God, because God, as we heard in that wonderful passage from Hosea, loves us so much, treating us "like those who lift infants to their cheeks."
So we need to keep our focus. And in our modern Westernised world that is very difficult. At no time in human history have we been so subject to distraction. During my holidays I read a book entitled, "Now is the winter of our disconnect." Its author tells the story of the six month experiment she and her three teenage children undertook, in which they refrained from the use of modern technology in their home - at home no TV or DVD's; no computer or computer games, no iPods or CD's; no mobile phones; no 'internet'. They could use these things at work, at school and at friends places, but not at home.
The consequences? - there were many, including improved school grades; one child who poured their efforts into playing the saxophone; the restitution of conversation around the family dinner table and of countless other human interactions; and much improved patterns of sleep. It is a fascinating study and I recommend it to anyone who is battling the complexities of raising children and grandchildren in our era. But the thing that stood our most clearly for me, was that this family's 'letting go' of the constant distractions served up by media, allowed them a space in which to focus - to "seek the things that are above", in Christian language. 'Letting go' and 'focus' belong together.
These are many things in our lives to distract us. Very few of them are bad in and of themselves. Many of them are very good. But a reliance on any of them, can become idolatrous. This is not a modern problem, as Jesus' parable makes clear; but the more things there are to acquire, the harder it is to keep our focus on what is essential. The harder it is to "let go".
Jesus says, be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions. The story he then tells focuses in a straightforward way on material possessions - grain and barns to put it in. And we can translate that into our own currency readily enough - how many cars, TVs, refrigerators, computers and so on and so forth do we actually need?; perhaps more importantly how many can our fragile earth actually sustain before we realise that we have sold our souls and our planet, and we cannot actually eat money or take it with us when we die? For the material greed we face in our own era is not just personal, but corporate. As a species in many places, humanity has allowed itself to be seduced by consumerism.
So what is to be done? I know that a few people around the parish were disturbed by one of the artworks produced by a youngster for the latest exhibition at St Luke's. It's been returned to the school, along with some of the others for an exhibition at the school, so in case you didn't see it or can't remember it, it featured a soft drink can, in the familiar red and white colours of the most notable soft drink on them all, produced by the multi-national company that bears its name, you know who I mean. Instead of the brand name, but in the same font the young artist had painted the words "Jesus Christ."
Some of you I know wondered whether it was sacrilegious - somehow demeaning the name of Christ, by equating it with a brand of soft drink, produced by one of the world's most oppressive companies.
This was not I believe the young person's intention. Rather they were saying, "Jesus Christ is greater even than this huge idol of consumerism. Indeed Jesus Christ is the only force capable of taking on the power of these huge greed-driven multinationals - let's focus on Him"
And indeed that is where our focus needs to be. Only with our eyes on Christ can we begin to "let go". For in our day, it is not just that over - production and advertising invite us to consume ever more; we are being constantly manipulated to listen to our emotions, to our wants and fears; and to cling to things, as a way to be safe. Now some of these things are not material in the obvious sense - they may be much more intangible; like our position or career path; or perhaps a desire to be liked by others even if that means compromising on things we know to be right or true; such things are part of our human need for affirmation, and like other possessions are not bad in themselves - but if they distract us from a focus on Christ, they too can be idolatrous. And of course, they offer no ultimate security at all.
We all know that greed can make us sick - too many lollies and we turn green and bilious. Apply the same maxim to our society, and we can see the consequences of selling our souls to the soft drinks and IT companies all around us. And churches are certainly not immune. We have all come across congregations whose attachment to their historic wealth, to buildings, fittings and fixtures, perhaps a fine organ, does not allow them the lightness of being to respond to the ministry needs of the communities in which they are set. And we who sit this morning in such comfort, might like to reflect on what is actually needed for a Christian community - some water, some bread, some wine, a Bible, perhaps a little oil. Nothing else - in material terms; but much more in terms of faith and a willingness to share our wealth with those in need.
And it's not just material possessions that churches cling to. We cling as well to our particular patterns of worship, our shades of Theology, our strategic plans and mission objectives - and forget the one who said 'take no thought for tomorrow." It is so very easy to become distracted - and to lose our focus on "Christ who is all and in all."
"People" said the Little Prince in the fairytale by Antoine de StExuperay" rush about in express trains, but they do not know what they are looking for. They raise ten thousand roses in the same garden, and they still do not know what they are looking for. Yet what they are looking for could be found in a single rose."
It is a matter of focus; of being aware that the multiplication of possessions of whatever kind is not the purpose of our life, but that rather we are learning all through our life how to let go of different kinds of possessions, tangible and intangible, in order to be open to God in Christ.
Sadly too many of us sometimes, and probably all of us some of the time, sell our souls short for one possession or another. As Solzhenitsyn said "People - exhaust themselves in the senseless pursuit of material things, and die without realising their spiritual greatness."
But it does not have to be so. Any and every one of us can choose to create a little more 'soul-space', by choosing a little less of something we have convinced ourselves we cannot do without. And as we "let go" of what is non-essential, we will find that "the things that are above" come into much sharper focus. It is a matter of focussing in spite of distraction on what is truly worthwhile - as the fisherman in this final story does.
'A wealthy American banker was standing on the pier of a coastal village in Mexico when a small boat with one fisherman aboard docked. Inside the boat were a few large tuna fish. The banker complemented the fisherman on his catch, the asked, "how long were you out?' 'Oh, an hour or two," the fisherman replied. 'Why didn't you stay out longer and catch more fish?' 'I've enough here to meet the immediate needs of my family.' 'But what do you do with the rest of your time?' 'I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children take a siesta in the afternoon, and stroll into the village in the evening to sip a little wine, play my guitar and chat with my friends. Believe me, I have a full life," said the fisherman. The banker wasn't impressed. 'You should spend more time fishing,' he said. 'Then with the proceeds you could by a bigger boat. With the proceeds from that you could by several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Then you could open up your own processing factory and cannery. You would need to leave this village and move to Mexico City, then to Los Angeles, and eventually to New York, from where you would run your expanding business.' 'How long would all this take? the fisherman asked. 'About twenty years,' the banker replied. 'And what then?' asked the fisherman. 'When the time is right you could float your company on the stock market, sell your stock to the public and make millions.' 'Then what?' asked the fisherman. 'Then you could retire and move to a small coastal village, where you could sleep late, fish a little, play with your children, take a siesta in the afternoon, stroll into the village in the evening and have some fun with your friends.' 'What do you think I'm doing right now?' asked the fisherman.

Opening of Art Space "Young at Art'

2010-07-01T12:11:00.010+10:00

St Luke's Anglican Church Woy Woy Art Space 'Young at Art'. This is a celebration of the talented youth on the Central Coast. Incorporating an Exhibition of Art by youth from local schools and in the Community. The Art Space was opened by Red. Bruce Perry, Chaplain Newcastle University and the entertainment was supplied by local band 'One Minute of Living'.
The exhibition can be viewed Monday to Friday 9-4 via the Parish Office.

Sermon 5th Sunday after Pentecost

2010-06-29T14:50:00.000+10:00

Sermon Luke 9: 51-62

What does it really mean to follow Jesus?

This is the question at the heart of today’s Gospel, as Jesus sets his face towards Jerusalem, and tells His would-be followers that looking back is not an option.

From the challenges He puts to them, it seems that rue discipleship, true following, is not about Power; its not about Possession; but it is about Pilgrimage.

Not Power, not Possession, but Pilgrimage. Let’s think about each of these.

It seems that the disciples James and John were really getting into their new found power. No doubt they had enjoyed some success in healing and casting out demons. Now when a Samaritan village refuses to accept Jesus, their power goes to their heads. “Would you like us to call down from fire form heaven upon this village and destroy it?” They ask.

Jesus of course rebukes them. And rightly so.
To have returned an insult with such violence would have been a totally unacceptable abuse of power.

At the time of Jesus, the Samaritans and the Jews were mutual enemies. So despite Jesus reputation as a healer and teacher, when they hear that he is heading for Jerusalem, to perform His Jewish obligations, they refuse to welcome Him. From their perspective, whatever his merits as an individual, he was a member of a different, enemy tribe, and they would have nothing to do with him. James and John are furious and out for revenge.

But of course this is not Jesus way of doing things. He never returns evil for evil, and He encourages his followers to choose the ways of non-violence.

In this of course there is immense strength. It is much more difficult to refuse to retaliate when we are wounded, and this is true at every level of our personal, political and international life.

Jesus shows by example, that to follow him is to reject the abuse of power, the thirst for vengeance and control, and to take the path of reconciliation and peace. It is not an easy choice, and often the church has failed to make that choice, choosing instead to assert its power in various ways, both obvious and more subtly manipulative. But this passage shows without question that the use of power for our own ends has nothing to do with the path of Christian discipleship.

So not Power. And not Possession either – by which I mean the desire to own, to control, to be in charge of our own destiny.. In our own era the will towards possession is very strong. I don’t just mean that we live in a very commercialised and consumerist culture, though that is true. I mean that we really think that we are in charge of our own lives. But the path of Christian discipleship is one of letting go – letting go of the illusion that we are in charge of what happens to us; letting go sometimes even things that on the face of it seem quite innocent and good, if they stand in the way of a deeper listening to the will of God.

Jesus is met by three potential followers. To the first rather idealistic and passionate person, who promises to follow him wherever he may go, Jesus points out that this is a choice to be homeless. Whether or not they met that challenge, or realised it was beyond them we do not know.

What we do know is that the next two, whom Jesus invites to follow Him, each have an excuse for not doing so.

At first glance it may seem that Jesus is being harsh, but closer examination suggests this is not the casse.

The one who wants to go and bury his father first – now that sounds reasonable doesn’t it? But in fact, in the culture of the day if the man’s father had already died, he would not have been out and about to meet Jesus in the first place This means that his father was still alive – and from Jesus’ response it is clear that the man was potentially going to wait many years before his father would die and be buried. To this person Jesus was saying that following Him, involved letting go of possessiveness – of control over his future; even in so far as this involved his family.

Similarly the person who wanted to say goodbye to those at home, sounds fair enough – but what if ‘home’ is not just up the street, but many miles away? What if seeing the ‘folks at home’ involves an endless list of relatives to be found in many places?
Jesus is once again challenging the real intention of this person to commit to the path of discipleship. He is not being harsh. He is just encouraging those whom he thinks have the potential for deep discipleship, not to wait around too long. After all He has an inkling that His own days are likely to be numbered; and none of us knows how long we may have on this earth in which to fulfil our vocation.

Most of us, if we are honest, have some things that we rather cling to. These things may be physical possessions – a house, a car; or emotional ties: family members whose esteem or welfare we prize very highly; or perhaps a career choice or path that we feel comes above everything else. No matter the focus of our possessiveness, Jesus in this Gospel issues a challenge – are we willing to give up even this? – this which has a legitimate claim upon our time and attention? This which we might believe to be our very vocation? – can we give up everything, if it is asked of us? It is a hard ask that’s for sure.

Yet those who have most notably followed in the way of Christ, all seem to have understood that time was short, and that sometimes it was necessary to do things that might seem quite extreme or unnecessary to others. Think for example of the poverty of Francis and Clare; the courage of a Martin Luther King; the determination of someone closer to home like Sr. Angela, who founded the monastery at Stroud.

Such Christian saints were all pilgrim people – moving wherever they felt called; refusing to allow the ties of possessions or relationship to prevent them from moving on along the path. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote,” Discipleship is not limited to what you can comprehend – it must transcend all comprehension…Not to know where you are going is true knowledge.”

Which brings us to Pilgrimage – that willingness to follow a path even when we do not know where it leads.

This passage is full of movement words – the word to travel or proceed is used five times in the first six verses, and the word depart or go three times. The writer of Luke is making it quite clear that Jesus is in a new phase. Instead of just moving around Galilee teaching, he is now moving through Samaria, focussed on Jerusalem. His movement has become determined and intentional.

And this is what distinguishes pilgrimage from other kinds of journeying – it is a journey with a definite purpose; that of seeking the path of God no matter what.

Today’s Gospel challenges us, would-be followers of the pilgrim path – are we willing to let go of our desire for power, control and possession, in order to encounter the Christ along our way?

When we do , we can be sure that we will encounter resistance and persecution , as Jesus did, for those who speak truth to power are rarely popular.. We can be sure that our path will lead us into places of suffering and distress, because these are the people and places that Jesus held most dear. We can be sure that our path will lead us to places we would never have thought possible, for this is the onward call of a God, whose purpose never stands still.

So let us listen for the call of Christ; “Follow me”. And let us never be afraid to set out once more in faith. Amen

Sermon preached by Penny at Coolamon 20th June 2010

2010-06-29T14:49:00.000+10:00

LUKE 8.26F – GERASENE DOMONIAC

Well you certainly found your visiting preacher a rip-roaring story to have a go at! This one really has a bit of everything, doesn’t it?

The whole scene that Luke describes is bizarre – somewhere between a hammer horror movie and a political cartoon. You’ve got this naked crazy guy, coming out from the tombs in the middle of the night; chatty demons; pigs hurling themselves off cliffs; and a small riot of freaked–out locals.

And what is Jesus doing there? – after all this is the territory of the Decapolis, the ten towns; Roman, Gentile Territory. Not somewhere a self-respecting Jew would be seen in – not even a Jew from Galilee of the Gentiles. There’s a bit of local politics in the sub-text of this story – and no doubt the Galileans who first told this story would have been delighted by it. As James Liggett has written,
“Everybody knew instantly both that it was no accident that the demons called themselves ‘Legion’ after the famous and feared Roman legions; and that pigs were a staple both of the Roman army and the Roman economy. (Both of course anathema to Jews). Caesar’s legions and Caesar’s rations were mere child’s play for Jesus – a quick flush and they’re gone. What fun! – from a Jewish point of view.”

But what is Jesus doing there? To answer that we have to remember that Jesus has just brought the boat to shore after stilling the storm. He and his disciples have just had a rough night to say the least. In those circumstances, as the saying goes, ‘any port in the storm’. But perhaps they could have wished for an easier welcome.

We’re told, “as he stepped out on land” in other words, he’s virtually got one foot on the boat - when the next trial meets him, in the shape of this crazy guy.

It’s still dark, or perhaps just getting light; this man is naked, rattling his broken chains, emerging out of the tombs - frankly if I’d been Jesus or the disciples I’d have got back on the boat sharpish!

But Jesus stands His ground. He knows what perhaps some of you already know from experience, that in the spiritual life, it seems always that just when you’ve got through some particularly difficult time; you’re perhaps a bit tired, inclined to sit back and say “whew, glad that’s over”, that the next challenge comes – and usually from some unexpected quarter. And it can be a very edgy time.

This is definitely an edgy matter – it takes place on the beach; the edge of land and water; probably at dawn; the edge of night and day; somewhere on the edge between life and death, bondage and freedom – for this man has lost everything – he’s a total social outcast, living a half-life in the tombs. Whenever others have tried to bring him in, by shackling him, he’s broken the chains – but it’s been a freedom for death not life.

In less extreme ways, we may recognise our own experiences in his. Think of the “edge” times in your life – the times perhaps of sickness, of grief, of depression – the times of “half-living”, when you felt vulnerable and helpless. We can certainly recognise them in our world. The Roman legions were not the first or the last bullies on earth. We see the violence that human beings visit on each other, and the inhumanity that can result from the action (or lack of action) of governments and powers. These are the true demons of our day, as they were of Jesus day.

So what was Jesus doing there? Well He was sending the demons packing. He was showing what God can do in the world, when we recognise it. And that’s what He sends the man home to do – to “declare how much God has done for you.”

And of course that’s what He sends us to do, as well. And so I’d like to spend a little bit of time thinking about that. Because that’s the thing we can all do.

We probably don’t have a dramatic story, like the Gerasene demoniac. Anyone who’d known how he was before, and met him later, clothed and in his right mind, sitting (in the posture of a disciple) at Jesus’ feet, would have been in no doubt, that God had done something remarkable in his life.

But God has done remarkable things in your life and in my life – and that’s what we can talk about.

But when I started to think about the things that God had done in my life, I realised that perhaps to an outsider they might not sound particularly spectacular – a seemingly chance encounter here, and encouraging rainbow there; touches as light as a butterfly’s wings. But we know when we’re touched by God.

Take Elijah – he knew about God; he’d done some amazing things for God. But in today’s story he was down and out in every sense of the word. All he wanted was to die. And when he goes outside the cave to meet with God, he might have expected something spectacular. But God was not in the Spectacular things – the great wind, the earthquake, the fire – no, God gave Elijah the strength to carry on; to anoint kings, to appoint his own successor, by God’s presence in “the sound of sheer silence” - the Hebrew is hard to translate; Qu-oleth means literally “the daughter of a voice” – a sound so tiny, and so still as to be a barely, perceptible vibration,.

So what has God done in my life, in your life? – what have been some of the whispers of that still, small voice, that have enlivened our faith, and kept us going?

I can only answer for myself, but I’ll be interested to hear some of your reflections later. What God has done for me :
Is to give me, from earliest childhood, a keen sense of wonder and appreciation of natural things as a place where I simply expect to encounter God.

I’m sure we’ve all been moved by the glory of a sunset or the beauty of a flower. When we look at those things with the eyes of faith, we encounter God within them.
Something else that God has done for me, is to give me an abiding sense of God’s presence – even (and sometimes especially) in times of difficulty. One of the things that most terrifies many of us, is the thought that we are alone in an unfriendly universe! The man in today’s story was in that kind of place – he’d been cut off by his sickness from every kind of support. The reassurance that we are not in fact alone – even when it feels as though we are – is a great gift of our faith.
At times, one of the things God has done for me, has been to give me courage, not just to deal with difficult circumstances, but occasionally to stand up and be counted when it mattered, or to try something new. There are still many, many times when my own courage fails me – that’s why my family call me, ‘panic-head Penny’. But I do know that when I’ve really needed it, God has always given me the courage to do something that needed to be done. And this is the gift Jesus gives the man in today’s story, when he does not allow him to go away, despite his pleading; but encourages him to do the harder thing to go and face those whom he knew, who’d treated him badly, and he them; and say “Look what God’s done for me”.
Above all of course Jesus sets this man free – free from chains both physical, mental, emotional and spiritual. Jesus is doing that for me too – much less dramatically, much more slowly. But when I look back over my life I can see – as I’m sure you can too – the places where His liberating Spirit has been at work, to release me from unhelpful ways of being and patterns of behaviour.
And that liberation does not just happen to us as individuals. One of the things God does in our lives is to give us to each other, is the community we call the church. Just as the healing of the man in today’s story would have brought change to that whole community; so my healing, my release brings healing to those around me.
Of course it’s not always comfortable. The Gerasenes were used to their naked madman roaming the tombs. They knew how to avoid him, perhaps how to blame him for their troubles.
They did not rally know how to re-integrate him into their community – and they were frightened by the change in him to the point of asking Jesus to leave.
I wonder have you ever asked Jesus to leave? –
To leave you alone; to leave something He wants to heal in you untouched; because you were afraid?
I know I have – and Jesus will always wait – wait until we’re ready, to let Him do, those things that bring life, and healing and hope.
What is Jesus doing there? – He’s doing what He does everywhere; He’s bringing life.
May He continue to bring life to us, and to all creation. Amen.

Sermon - 3rd Sunday after Pentecost

2010-06-29T12:51:00.000+10:00

Sermon Luke 7:36f
Anointing at the House of Simon the Pharisee

Jesus said to Simon, “Do you see this woman”.

One day a friend paid a visit to Michelangelo. He found the great sculptor chipping away at a huge block of marble. The floor was covered with bits of marble and dust. It was not a pretty scene.

“What in heaven’s name are you doing?” the friend asked.

“I’m releasing the angel imprisoned in this marble,” Michelangelo replied.

Michelangelo, like all artists, had the gift of seeing - of seeing the potential in what others see only as commonplace or even useless and ugly.

“Do you see this woman?’ – Jesus asks – and of course the answer is ‘No”. Simon has not seen the woman at all. He has seen only his own prejudices and assumptions about her.

Simon looked at the woman and saw only that she was one of ‘those kind of women’ – someone to be avoided, lest they contaminate. Of course the fear of ‘contamination’ lies behind all kinds of prejudice in our world, which grows from fear, and leads to violence and hatred. I can still recall the language that was used at the time of women’s first ordination, which spoke of women priests ‘tainting the altars’ when they presided. We have not come so very far in two thousand years!

Commentators have for centuries implied that the woman was a prostitute. This in itself reflects a tendency to assume that a woman’s sin will be sexual. At the time Jews regarded many people as ‘sinners; for example those who worked as servants in the households of Gentiles; or those who had a disability or mental or physical illness, which was held to be a judgment from God.

We do not know the nature of this woman’s ‘sinfulness’ – what we do know was that it was obvious to Simon.

He was afraid of being made ‘unclean’ by her, and was astonished that Jesus would let himself be touched by her. For him, it was a clear indication that Jesus could not in fact be a prophet; and so he begins to judge Jesus also.

If we are honest, most of us have behaved like Simon at times. It has been useful to the evolution of the human species to be able to discern difference swiftly, and hence be ready to defend ourselves against potential attack. Our fight/flight responses are well developed.

If you don’t believe me, on your way home today just notice how often you look out for potential hazards – traffic, other people, raised paving stones. We are very, very good at protecting ourselves and keeping ourselves separate from things that we see as possibly harmful.

We are much less good at appreciating what is around us; noticing and giving thanks for things in our environment, and seeing with eyes of trust those who surround us.

It has been well said that the longest journey some of us will ever make is from our head to our heart. We can see with our physical eyes – the ones in our head; but we are sometimes quite blind, when asked to see with the eyes of our heart.

This is a contrast that is embodied in today’s reading in the persons of Simon and the woman with the alabaster jar. Simon is all in his head. He knows what is right. He keeps the law. He knows who this woman is and he is able to judge who Jesus is on the basis of his response to her. He is not a bad person – indeed he is someone as Jesus story illustrates, with little obvious need of forgiveness. But he is not living fully. He has allowed the rational and the legalistic to be so dominant, that he is blind to the appeal of the heart.

The woman on the other hand is all heart. She knows she is well outside the laws, and she has probably never received anything in life from the religious people but condemnation. Yet with her whole bodily self – kneeling, weeping, caressing, kissing – she shows her love; the love that comes from having been deeply forgiven, which let’s her receive yet deeper forgiveness and release.

Jesus has infinite compassion for them both. We see this easily in his treatment of the woman, whom he allows to touch him and anoint him, and then looks directly at her and offers her words of forgiveness and hope.

But it is true of Simon too. Jesus does not condemn Simon for his prejudice and lack of compassion. Rather he helps him to see things differently. Firstly he introduces the topic by telling a story – using the kind of teaching language that Simon could relate to easily.

Then he asks a ‘feeling’ question – “Now which of them will love him more?”

Poor Simon, he’s not used to feeling questions! But he does manage an answer – though from his head; “I suppose (thinking word!) the one for whom he cancelled the greater debt.”

And Jesus replies with gentle affirmation for his intellectual ability “You have judged rightly”.

Only then does he invite Simon to see the woman and her actions correctly, revealing how she has offered the hospitality that Simon has withheld.

In this his purpose is to build her up, and let Simon see her actions in familiar terms; not to pass judgement on Simon. He does not say for example, “You don’t think you need to be forgiven much, so you do not love much” – he says “But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little.” Like the prophet Nathan with David, he allows Simon to come to his own place of repentance – proving, if proof were needed, his place in that line of prophetic teaching.

Now we don’t know how Simon responded, because the text does not tell us. We know that some of the others at table are unable to get past the head questions, “Who is this that even forgives sins.” they ask – missing the whole point of the encounter that has just taken place before their very eyes.

But I would like to think that Jesus redeemed Simon; that he helped him to see in ways that meant he could never go back to his narrow judgmental, excluding ways. And I think that for two reasons. Firstly Simon did in fact have some initial openness to Jesus – otherwise he would not have invited him to dinner – even if he did not give him the proper treatment that he would have given an honoured guest. Now given that Simon lived mostly in his head, it was probably an intellectual openness – a curiosity to see what this renegade teacher would actually do and say at a ‘respectable’ dinner party. But it was openness never the less. And then the story tells us what Simon said ‘to himself’. Now very possibly the author of the Gospel infers what Simon is thinking from Jesus’ responses, but logically the only person who would have known this for sure is Simon himself, whose thoughts are then recorded in a Christian document. So perhaps both the principle characters in this story found forgiveness and release that day.

We do not always see things very well. And when we act on what we think we see, it can cause all kinds of problems. I am sure some of you have had the experience of sitting in the optometrist’s chair and reading a letter ‘S’, only to discover when the lens is corrected that it was in fact a letter ‘F’. God is always seeking to correct our vision; to help us to see better with the eyes of our hearts.

At every Eucharist God invites us to supper. He bathes us in forgiveness, anoints us with His Spirit, kisses us repeatedly in the words and actions and sacraments. I wonder half the time, ‘do we even notice?” And do we come with the expectation that we will hear Him speak to us, directly, saying “I have something to say to you?”. For these are things that we can only see and hear with the eyes and ears of our hearts.

I suspect that often we do not really see at all.

Yet God in Christ continues to offer himself to us, as the woman continued to anoint Jesus, whether or not there is a response, because the outpouring of love demands it. And we come, bringing whatever we can to the table – the gifts of heads and hearts and hands, however inadequate.

As Claude Mostowik has written, at the Lord’s table,
“We give Jesus things he does not need - our despair, fear, anger, cynicism, lack of hope, inadequacy or frustration – but all are accepted along with all the better things we can give. We might come un-prepared, yet Jesus accepts our inadequate offering. Jesus reflects the passion in God’s heart.

We need to recognise that the Jesus, who dined with the people who walk on the wrong side of the street, also dined with the powerful – if he was not to be guilty of reverse prejudice. They too need to be included in God’s reign.

Today’s gospel resonates for marginalised groups: women, Indigenous people, gays and lesbians, (and) people who are living with disabilities” to name but a few.

But it resonates also for the Simons’ of our world – for those who might not think they were much in need of forgiveness. For Jesus invites everyone to the table – His is a gospel of radical inclusivity, which reaches out to the rich as well as the poor; to those who consider themselves righteous as well as those who know they are not and excludes no-one.

Today the gospel invites us to the table. Whether like the woman, we feel ourselves condemned by others, and perhaps even by ourselves and unworthy to be present; or whether like Simon our eyes are unseeing and we do not perceive our own need, we are still welcome.

And of course, both Simon and the woman are present in all our hearts, always, at one and the same time. Part of us thinks we have it right and tends to condemn others; and part of us knows our desperate need of love and forgiveness.

And Jesus constantly invites us, as he invited Simon, to look on ourselves and others with new eyes – with the eyes of compassion, with the eyes of the heart.

Jesus looks at each of us and says, “Do you see this woman? Do you see this man?” and helps us to see ourselves and each other with new eyes.

May we open the eyes of our hearts to all that He would show us. In the name of the Christ who sets us free. Amen.

Sermon 06.06.10 - Jesus cared about widows

2010-06-06T16:00:00.002+10:00

Pentecost 2 Luke 7:11-17

Jesus cared about widows. There is nothing particularly remarkable about that. His own Jewish tradition , especially the prophetic tradition of which he was a part, was very clear that God commands us to care for the widow and the orphan, and all who are oppressed and disadvantaged.

But Jesus seems to have had a particular care and admiration for widows. Think for example of his use of widows in his teaching. He gives, as an instance of the need for persistence in prayer, the story of the widow who hammers on the door of the unjust judge until she gets satisfaction. He also draws attention to the widow who casts her last mite into the coffers of the Treasury – not so much to commend her for her generosity, as to condemn the unjust system that would demand such a response form a poor widow.

So why this interest in widows?

Certainly in Jesus day to be a widow was to be one of the most vulnerable members of society, especially if you were poor and had no children. The Hebrew scriptures provided that a man could marry his brother’s widow – and that if a brother was not available, then a more distant relative on the husband’s side could do the same thing. This was how Boaz, in the story of Ruth, came to marry her. – and of course Ruth is one of Jesus' forebears.

However it was not an ideal system, and widows in Jesus day carried stigma – both for their husband’s death and, if no family member was found to marry them, for their circumstances. As single women, with or without children, they were regarded as the lowest of the low. This applies to many widows in our world today also – but we’ll come to that.

Jesus seems to have had a special care for widows. And I wonder if there could be some personal reasons for that. We do not know for sure, but there is a strong tradition that Joseph died young. Certainly he does not appear in our Biblical narrative beyond the story of Jesus being left behind in the temple at the age of twelve. By the time Jesus begins his ministry he is nowhere to be seen. Presumably therefore Jesus mother Mary was a widow. As such she would have been heavily reliant on her eldest son Jesus for her day to day needs. Maybe this indeed is why Jesus does not begin his ministry until he is about thirty – until perhaps his younger brother James is in a position to care for her.

We shall never know. But it does seem as though Jesus might have had a particularly strong affinity for the plight of a poor widow, whose only son has died, leaving her destitute, both physically and culturally, as she would have lost her place and standing in the community.

Jesus encounters the widow in today’s story, just as her son is being carried out of the town to be buried. In those times, burials took place outside the towns, for obvious reasons of hygiene, and as soon as possible after death. The young man’s supposedly dead body is being carried on an open bier.

When Jesus sees her, we’re told that he “had compassion for her” Now the Greek word used for ‘having compassion’ is splagisamai – it is a very strong word, and it means to be moved to the very guts and bowels. It is a word that is used only occasionally in the Gospels, but in some very significant places, both in the teaching of Jesus and on other occasions when He is described as being ‘moved to the very guts and bowels’.
It is used for example of Jesus' compassion for the crowds – both when he feeds the four thousand and when he identifies them as being ‘like sheep without a shepherd.’ It is also used early in Mark’s gospel, in Jesus' first recorded encounter with a leper. And Jesus uses it himself in the story of the Good Samaritan, who was the one who ‘had compassion’ on the man who fell among thieves; and in the story of the Prodigal son, where the Father has compassion on his errant son and runs to welcome him home. Always it is used of a compassion that issues in significant action. It's not just a matter of feeling.

Jesus ‘had compassion’ for the widow of Nain; he was moved to the very guts and bowels on her account. He could see what fate awaited her, in the loss of this only son. And he took action.

We might like to ask ourselves, what things, what people, what situations move us to such an extent? And what are we doing about them?

Jesus does something very immediate. First of all he tells her “Do not weep.” (He will say the same thing at the healing of Jairus daughter – ‘do not weep; she is not dead but sleeping’). He is telling her that her emotions – completely valid though they may be – are not what is needed. What is needed is an accurate appraisal of the situation.

So he walks up to the bier and touches it.

We have no idea in our culture of the huge significance of that action. As you may recall from the story of the Good Samaritan , for a Jew to touch a corpse or anything that a corpse was touching, was to be made ritually unclean and unable to participate in prayers and offerings until cleansed.

Jesus calmly risks his reputation and his ability to function within his culture, for the sake of a person whom he has barely even met. The widow has not even asked for his help, and there is no suggestion that she knew who he was, or had any faith whatsoever in his ability to alter the situation.

And then he tells the young man to get up. The word used is not the word for resurrection, but for getting up, waking up as from sleep. Whether in fact Jesus perceived that like, Jairus daughter, this young man was not in fact dead at all, but merely comatose – a state not then well understood – is not really material.
What matters are the two things that follow from his action, especially in terms of our discipleship.

The first is that Jesus is acknowledged as a ‘great prophet’ – he has after all repeated the action of the great prophet Elijah in healing the son of a widow. His fame and reputation spread; and we are part of the spreading of that fame and reputation. We are able to say that Jesus was someone whose compassionate action towards those least able to help themselves, brought new life.

And the second is that, as his disciples, we are called to do the same.

Now we are probably not capable of raising the dead.

But we are capable of being moved with compassion – of being ‘moved to the guts and bowels’ on behalf of the poor and the oppressed.

And when we are so moved we are capable of doing something about it.

‘Stepping up to the bier and touching it’ may mean setting aside some lesser things; like reputation or wealth or our own advantage; it may mean being laughed at or misunderstood. But the example of Jesus is quite clear – where there is need, we are not to be afraid.

Many situations in our world today command our compassion and our action to attempt to bring new life, where all seems dead and hopeless. Many of them require a cool headed re-appraisal of the situation. But in solidarity with Jesus himself I want to draw your attention to the plight of one group in particular – the widows of our world.

A recent research document prepared for the United Nations showed that there are 100million widows living in extreme poverty in our world today. Their situation in many places is not improving but rather worsening and the figures rising.

The report tells this story for example
“Twenty-four-year-old Seetha lives in a slum in Chennai, a bustling metropolis and the capital of India’s southern state Tamil Nadu. An AIDS widow, Seetha was driven out of her village on the outskirts of the city last year when her husband, a truck driver, succumbed to the disease. The onus of bringing up her two children - four-year-old Lakshmi and two-year-old Anand - fell on her shoulders.
Being illiterate, she was forced to work as a daily wage labourer at one of the various construction sites in the rapidly growing city. Now, she has lost that as well. Seetha contracted AIDS from her husband and when the labourers working with her found out her HIV status, they pressurised the contractor to remove her from the job. She wants Lakshmi and Anand to go to school so that they don’t have to suffer
a fate similar to hers but being unemployed, weak and unwell, Seetha doesn’t know if she will be able to give them the next meal, let alone a school education.

For (women like Seetha) widowhood means denial of basic human rights, brings lowering of living standards, legal obstacles to inheriting property, problems in caring for and educating children, harassment by relatives, being socially outcast, religious stigma and a host of other problems - making them and their children the most vulnerable and the poorest of the poor.”

In many parts of Africa and Asia in particular HIV –AIDS has left many widowed, and with poor understanding of how the virus is transmitted these women often carry the stigma of their husbands death and are blamed for their own sickness. In these countries as well as in much of India and South America, such widows are forced into prostitution in order to feed their families.

June 23 has been proclaimed International Widows Day but it has not so far gained UN recognition. Widows in the developing world remain some of the least regarded and most defenceless human beings on earth. So today’s Gospel is a real challenge to us, who follow Jesus.

Will we ‘step up to the bier’ and recognise their need?

Will we help that day to gain UN recognition?

Will we, like Jesus, tell them that they need weep no longer, because the possibility of new life is at hand?

Will we allow ourselves to be ‘moved to the guts and bowels with compassion’, in order that we may act to change our world, that new life may come?

Amen

2010-06-05T16:01:00.003+10:00

Woy Woy Public Hospital Alliance rally to Parliament Tue 1 June
Woy Woy Anglican Parish is supporting local attempts to enhance the Hospital and ensure the return of its Rehab facilities.

Sermon by Revd Penny Jones, 16.05.2010

2010-05-16T13:58:00.007+10:00

ACTS 16.16-34; JOHN 17.20-26 16.05.10
"The glory that you have given me, I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me".

It's quite a sentence! - and it tells us, at the beginning of the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity both why we are to seek unity (so that the world may know that you have sent me); and how that unity is possible - because, we all have a common experience of God's love.

There is disunity and strife throughout our world. Human beings are capable of falling out over many things, small and great, and violence is never far away. But Christians know that there is unity in and with God; and that is our deepest, mystical connection with God, no matter what our particular religious affiliations, we will always find Divine love. And it is our Christian calling, to seek to bring all people and all things - the whole created order - into harmonious relationship with each other and with the Divine Love. For it is in that Love, and only in that Love, that we can find our true freedom.

Our reading today from Acts, explores the dimension of human freedom. It is a story of binding and loosing played out on many levels. It is told in the idiom of its day but can still speak to us.

Firstly there's the slave girl. She's bound both physically to the masters who exploit her apparent gift; and spiritually to an ability to foretell the future. She is able to see a certain spiritual truth, which is that Paul and Silas are "slaves of the most High God" - a very different king of slavery to her own.

We are told that Paul becomes "very much annoyed" - not with the girl herself: but because she is unable to leave them alone; she effectively binds herself, attaches herself, leech-like, to them with the same message over many days. Finally Paul loses patience and casts the spirit out - thus setting her spiritually "free". We are not told what happens to her - a slave-girl without a "special talent" was undoubtedly less valuable than one with an exploitable gift, so the worry is that her last condition would be worse than her first; and this may be why it takes Paul several days to address the matter. We can hope that perhaps he manages to make provision for her in the household of Lydia, where she could be cared for.

But meanwhile Paul has troubles of his own, as the owners of the girl furious at losing their source of income, have him beaten and thrown into jail. Deprived of physical freedom, Paul and Silas maintain their inner freedom, singing and praying. This is the part of the story most familiar to us. We know, don't we, of the wonderful power of divine love to transform places of human degradation and imprisonment. Usually however those so imprisoned face may days and years of suffering - think of Terry Waite, or Dietrich Bonheoffer, or Nelson Mandela. Often those so imprisoned meet their death, and it is only through the testimony of others that we hear of the transformative power of their love in such situations. Others are eventually restored to physical freedom - their spiritual stature deepened and enhanced by their ordeal.
But in the story, liberation comes within a few hours. And this is why we love this story - not only does it have everything - girl (probably pretty), vicious, oppressive baddies; prison cells - it even throws in liberation by earthquake and it all happens at break-neck speed; not time for the reader to get bored - and of course, a satisfying sense that not only do the "goodies" escape, they carry on being "good", and set their jailer free as well They set him free from the burden of guilt and fear, that was going to result in him taking his own life; and then they baptise him, thus setting him free from bondage to sin and death into the bargain.
In this story, the reader is invited to see God as liberator; setting us free from all kinds of slavery, from every prison, whether physical or spiritual. Just in case we haven't got the message, it's pointed out eg that Paul and Silas are placed in the innermost cell and their feet in the stocks - humanly there is no hope for them.
But just when everything is at its worst, there is an earthquake. There's a literary echo there that every second century Christian would I think have heard - an echo back to the story of Jesus' crucifixion and death in Matthew's gospel. At the point of His death - when there is no hope humanly speaking - we're told that 'the earth shook and the rocks were split.' The earth itself enters into the great work of liberation, that Jesus' dying and rising effects. And here again "suddenly there was an earthquake so violent that the foundations of the prison were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened and everyone's chains were unfastened!"
What's going on here? This isn't just an escape story for Paul and Silas - that would only have required that the two of them somehow get out. No - at the theological level, this tells the reader that Paul and Silas - by their prayer and their singing, by their way of life and their choices - have entered into unity, into oneness with the Divine Love, "I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one." And by doing so, they participate in the act of total liberation of which the earthquake is the symbol - that getting free which is the gospel - the setting free of everyone (everyone's chains were unfastened) and everything (all the doors were opened) forever. The Divine Love, and the experience of that love, sets us all free, and makes us all one - the unity and the freedom are part and parcel of one another.
But, I hear you say, what about all the disunity, the war, the injustice? What about those who languish in physical prisons and emotional prisons and never get out? How do we live with the reality - the now but not yet of what some have called "the peaceable realm of God."? - the kingdom of God in Jesus words?
The answer is not easy to find; but lies I believe in choosing every day, in light; a little more of the love; till all is accomplished. And some are beacons of hope on this way. And I want to end by reading you an incredible true story, of one who did not escape his physical prison - but who by his prayer and example shows us how to live within and transcend our own prisons, for the sake of others.
Tom Fox, aged 54, was a peace activist and Quaker working for peace in Iraq - in November 2005 he was taken hostage along with 3 other members of a Christian Peacemaker Team: Norman Kember, James Loney and Harmeet Singh Sooden. Fox was eventually separated from the other 3, and his dead body was discovered in Baghdad on March 9 2006. The other hostages were rescued two weeks later. What I'm going to read you is an excerpt from James Lowey's account of the team's time in captivity, which he eventually published in July f 2007 - and the full article is available on the internet.

{During those first days of relentless, terrifying, excruciating uncertainty, Tom Fox dove into prayer the way a warrior might charge into battle. He turned his captivity into a sustained, unbroken meditation.
The chain that bound his wrist became a kind of rosary, or sebha (the beads Muslims use to count the names of God). He would picture someone: a member of his family, a member of the Iraq team or the CPT office, one of the captors - whoever he felt needed a prayer. Holding a link of the chain, he would breathe in and out , slowly, so that you could hear the air gushing in and out of his lungs, praying for the person he was holding in his mind. With the completion of each breath he would pass a chain link through his thumb and index finger. During his first breath he would say to himself, with the warmth of my heart. In the second, with the stillness of my mind. In the third, with the fluidity of my body. And in the fourth, with the light of my soul. At the end of each series of four breaths, he would pause and simply rest in the light with the person he was praying for.
On December 23, day 29 of captivity, we began the discipline of a daily check-in in which we talked about how we were doing physically, emotionally and spiritually. I led our first worship service, and Tom led our first de memoriam, Bible-less Bible study. The format was simple. The leader would recall as best he could a Bible passage, and we would reflect together on it according to a series of four questions : What is the main point of the passage to me? Is it true in my experience? What is difficult, challenging or confusing about the passage? How might this passage change my life?
Tom's prayers were profound. They brought our suffering into dialogue with the vast suffering of the world. Again and again his prayers brought to mind other prisoners - security detainees in Iraq, illegal combatants in Guantanamo, the lost and forgotten souls in American penitentiaries. And every time we heard a bomb explode, near or far, Tom would stop to pray for those whose lives had just been destroyed. Every time, without fail.
Why are we here? It's the ultimate question, really. Tom reflected on that question in something he wrote titled "Why Are We Here?" on November 25, 2005, the evening before we were kidnapped.
"We are here to root out all aspects of dehumanization that exist within us. We are here to stand with those being dehumanized by oppressors and stand firm against that dehumanization. We are here to stop people, including ourselves, from dehumanizing any of God's children, no matter how much they dehumanize their own souls."}

Copyright (c) 2007 by the Christian Century. Reprinted by permission from the July 24,2007, issue of the Christian century. For more information about the Christian Century, please visit http://christiancentury.org
Seasons of the Spirit Congregational Life Lent*Easter

Sermon - Easter VI 9th May, 2010

2010-05-10T09:22:00.000+10:00

EASTER VI .9.05.10 Acts 16; Revelations 21; John 14.23-29

As we continue in the Easter season, and begin to move towards the giving of the Spirit at Pentecost, we move in our readings and in our thinking towards a season of vision and imagination. We move also towards those weeks after Pentecost that speak of the mission and ministry of the church. Now 'vision' and 'church' are two words that do not always sit easily alongside each other! Some would go so far as to say they were an oxymoron - ie a conjunction of direct opposites like 'living death'! Edwina Gateley, a British laywoman and founder of the Volunteer Missionary movement, tells this story;

'Once upon a time we captured God and we put God in a box and we put a beautiful velvet curtain around the box. We placed candles and flowers around the box and we said to the poor and the dispossessed. 'Come! Come and see what we have! Come and see God!' And they knelt before the God in the box.

One day, very long ago, the Spirit in the Box turned the key from in inside and she pushed it open. She looked around the church and saw that there was nobody there! They had all gone. Not a soul was in the place. She said to herself, 'I'm getting out!' The Spirit shot out of the box. She escaped and she has been sighted a few times since then. She was last seen with a bag lady in McDonald's.

(Prophetic Mission: Sniffing out the Kingdom,' Mystics, Visionaries and Prophets, edited by Shawn Madigan, Augsburg Press, Minneapolis:1998)

The Spirit and the Vision the Spirit gives, is certainly not confined to the church But - the foundational stories of our faith are still telling us that vision is of the essence. And that without vision, the church cannot be faithful to God. So today, I want to talk a little about the 3 texts that we've heard read, in relationship to the vision statement that we have as a parish. We haven't talked about this for a while, so now, (no looking) - what is our vision statement? (ok, look at the back of your bulletin)

Seeking to be

A welcoming Christian community

Sharing God's love

Creating a place to belong.

Welcoming, sharing, creating - They're all verbs - doing words; They are reminding us very clearly what it is we are seeking to do and to be about. We are striving in this direction. Now, we know quite well that we're not there yet - and never will be wholly there this side of heaven, because we're human and imperfect, and we keep making mistakes. But this is what we're striving for.

And over the next few weeks and months I'm hoping that we can focus that vision in a variety of ways. Some of you spent time at the Diocesan convention yesterday and, I know that you will have brought back resources that will help us in the task of welcoming new church members and helping them to feel a sense of belonging and incorporation. That is important work to our ability to function as the body of Christ here on the Peninsula. But within and beyond that work, is the need to open our eyes and ears to those to whom God is calling us.

Let's think back to the story from Acts. "During the night Paul had a vision". We cannot afford to discount vision. Without vision, nothing happens. And sometimes - as in this case - the vision may seem quite strange; outside our comfort zone. Being open to vision, means being willing to let go of our own ideas and assumptions. In this case, following the vision meant leaving the fruitful work in Syria, and going to northern Greece, to Macedonia. It also meant going outside the Roman city - which would still have been a fairly comfortable, familiar environment - to meet, beside a river, to meet with - of all things a group of women! - Gentile women at that - though we are told that they worshipped God. In that culture the company and testimony of women was not highly regarded. Yet, we are told God opened the heart of Lydia - a dealer in purple cloth - to listen eagerly, and to be baptised along with her household. And then she says to Paul, "if you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home."

I think we can see two kinds of 'welcome' occurring in the story. Firstly there is the welcome that Paul and Silas give to Lydia and her companions. It is a welcome to hear and share the Christian story. And it is given by them going out - out from any place of worship; out even from the 'civilised' city, to a riverbank, to meet the women, just where they were, and share the story of Jesus. And when the story is received, Lydia and her companions are at once baptised and welcomed into the church - entry into the Christian community is made very easy - and this I think is the lesson for us, as we seek to be a welcoming Christian community. How easy do we make it for others to hear the Christian story- and having heard it, how easy do we make it for them not just to be baptised, but truly to become part of us? Paul and Silas are here shown overcoming huge barriers of gender, class, culture and race - they show us indeed how to love and relate to the neighbour, who is different from us. I invite you just to reflect on the diversity - or perhaps the lack of it - present in our congregations; and just to ask "as we opening our eyes and our hearts to the needs of those who are not like us.' Maybe over coffee you'll have a few things to say about that.

That's the first kind of welcome. The second comes from Lydia as she says "if you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come and stay at my home' And they went - and a church established itself in Lydia's home - because not only was she happy to offer welcome; Paul and Silas were happy to accept it. Which offers another challenge to us, as we seek to be a welcoming Christian community - are we also ready to be welcomed? - realising that there is power in doing the welcoming; when we are being received by another, we have to give up some of that power, which can be scary for us. But a truly welcoming community has the king of mutuality, where welcome is sometime given and sometimes received, with equal generosity.

For that kind of mutuality, is part of the second term of our parish vision - "Sharing God's love." To share truly in God's love is to be part of the heavenly Jerusalem, that place of endless uncreated light described in our second reading, from Revelation 21. The "glory and honour of the nations" is brought there, and healing and life abound for all. It is a tremendous vision of the reconciling of all things, through the love of God. And it is a vision which needs to inspire us, as we week to share the love of God with others. For we humans have a great tendency to domesticate the love of God - to reduce it to warm, fuzzy feelings - largely towards those whom we already like. We can see a classic instance of this, in the way that : Mother's Day" has been reduced from a celebration of women's active seeking for peace, and decrying war, into a somewhat pious recognition of women's place in family life. Indeed its foundress Julia Ward Howe, protested its takeover by the forces of conservatism. I have given you just a taste of her writing in your bulletin - it is a great call to all women, eg "as men have often forsaken the plow and the anvil at the summons of war let women now leave all that may be left of home for a great and earnest day of council. Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead. Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means whereby the great human family can live in peace."

The women to whom she appealed would expect women to be marching in the streets today; to be protesting the war in Iraq and Afghanistan; to be demonstrating - as I'm proud to say our daughter did yesterday on Bondi Beach - the scandalous about face our government has made on refugee policy - every woman here should be marching today; not eating with their families in restaurants. This day was not by foundation, any kind of celebration of a mother's devotion to her family, however admirable that may be.

We domesticate things - but God's love is not to be so domesticated. Yes, of course, we share God's love when we are kind to one another, when we care for those we know and greet others warmly.

But the love of God demands rather more. Jesus in the gospel tells us it demands that we love our enemies; that we lend without expectation of return; that we forgive 70 x 7 and give without wanting thanks.

He also tells us that when we love we are to cleanse the temples; and is challenge corruption and deceit - which is likely to get us into all kinds of trouble - and that we are to confront with naked honesty the hypocrisies of all religions - especially our own; that we are to welcome outcasts and sinners; and that sometimes we will be misunderstood and rejected no matter how holy our efforts.

This is what it is to share God's love; no wonder that St. Theresa of Avila remarked to God, "if this is how you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few of them' - and no wonder, that in a culture of comfort and success, it is very difficult to promote the numerical growth of the church. But surely numbers are not the point - as Lydia said, "if you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord' - the real question is not, 'how many people come to church?', but 'how many of us are faithful to the command to love as God loves us?'

For when we are faithful to that command, then 'vision' and 'church', go hand in hand. But it is not always comfortable - As the great El Salvadorian Archbishop Oscar Romero wrote

'A church that doesn't provoke any crises, a gospel that doesn't unsettle, a word of God that doesn't get under anyone's skin, a word of God that doesn't touch the real sin of the society in which it is being proclaimed - what gospel is that? Very nice, pious considerations that don't bother anyone, that's the way many would like preaching to be. Those preachers who avoid every thorny matter so as not to be harassed, so as not to have conflicts and difficulties, do not light up the world they live in. They don't have Peter's courage, who told the crowd where the bloodstained hands still were that had killed Christ: 'You killed him' Even though the charge could cost him his life as well, he made it. The gospel is courageous; It's the good news of him who came to take away the world's sins.

Archbishop Oscar Romero, April 16th 1978.

That is what it takes to "share God's Love."

So, our vision is to be a welcoming Christian community, Sharing God's love - with all that implies and demands; and finally to be "creating a place to belong". All of us long for a place to belong - but so often we look for it in the wrong place; in particular locations - geographical, social, relational or professional - and the bonds and ties of place and family and friend and work are very important. But they are not of ultimate importance. Even our connection to our church - our denomination, our parish, is not of any ultimate importance. It's only a means to an end - for as Jesus says in our Gospel, "those who love me will keep my word", (we've already talked about what that kind of loving means), "and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them”- and Jesus goes on to promise the gift of the Spirit. This tells us that our true and ultimate place of belonging, is in and with the God who loves us and makes a home with us. Imperfectly in this world, perfectly in the heavenly Jerusalem, the dwelling place of God is with human kind; God belongs in us and we belong in God -

As a parish as we seek to re-create a little of heaven on earth, we can seek only a pale imitation of the ultimate reality of total community within and with the Godhead. But if in this place, we can give those who come looking, a taste of that belonging in God, then indeed we will have fulfilled our vision; and made of the church in this place a meeting place of earth and heaven.

Amen

Homily for Ash Wednesday 2010

2010-02-18T09:37:00.002+11:00

Homily for Ash Wednesday 2010

The linen cupboard in our house had been in chaos for nearly two years. I could never find anything. Everything would fall out on top of me. Over the Christmas break I cleaned it out and now it is a joy to behold.

A few days ago I had a dream. As I woke I had a clear picture of shelf on shelf of op shop clothes and goods, loaded with stuff, spilling in all directions. The dream told me, what my conscious mind already knew – that I was too busy, and that I could no longer cram everything in.

As you come this Ash Wednesday to consider your life with God, what do you see I wonder? Do you see tidy shelves like my restored linen cupboard. Or is everything crammed in higgledly-piggledly?

Lent is a sacred time that let’s us look at our lives and assess what we no longer need. It is a time to sort, wash and tidy up. But this is not so much OUR work as God’s. It is not about us gaining control (this is often a mistake that can lead us to puritanical and self-punishing habits of life); it is about letting God have control. It is above all about letting go and letting God. It is about letting God re-prioritise our life and put it back the right way up .

The Desert fathers and mothers taught that sin is forgetting. Forgetting what? Not the commandments – important though those are; no, sin is forgetting who we truly are. Forgetting that we are the imago dei – the image of the living God. Forgetting that God presses God’s imprint into our dust.

The Orthodox preach that God became human that we may become divine – that as Gregory of Nyssa said, ‘the glory of God is a human being fully alive.

Lent is the chance to remember this in a really conscious way. It is the chance to become more fully alive. It is not about being sad, morose and beating ourselves up about the things we wish we had the power and control to change in our lives. It is about taking the time, in whatever way – by praying, sitting, walking, whatever works for you – simply taking the time to let God look at us with love and sort out the jumble.

It is about letting God be in charge of our re-creation. About God re-membering us – that is to say, putting our members, our limbs, back together at every level of our being. As our OT reading said it is about ‘rebuilding the ancient ruins’ and creating in us a beautiful garden, filled with running streams of living water.

When we receive the ash on our forehead today it is a gentle, intimate reminder of our mortality – that life is sweet but short, so we should live it to the full and with as much love as we can for our fellows who are also but dust –

BUT the ash is also a reminder of the glory – that we are all stardust and will one day return to that state; that we are part of God and will return to be with God. The ash recalls us to our true, glorious nature as beloved children of God.

So today and this Lent rejoice and re-member who you are. Let go of the stress of trying to be in control of your life, and let God fill you with life abundant. Amen

St. Luke's Anglican Church 'ARTSPACE'

2010-02-05T15:05:00.005+11:00

2nd Exhibition of Local Artworks
SHALLOW EDGES DEEP CENTRE
opening 13th February 2010
3pm - 5pm

The exhibition will be officially opened by Councillor Peter Freewater. Music will be by Jacqui O'Reilly. There will be presentations by Lisa Wriley (Kariong Community Eco Garden); Joachim Muller (Peninsula Environment Group); John Wiggin (Central Coast Branch Secretary, Australian Conservation Foundation).

Come join in the fun and celebrate the work of talented artists from our area.

Light refreshments will be served.

Christmas Message from Rector, Penny Jones.

2009-12-20T15:11:00.005+11:00

As Christmas approaches I want to take this opportunity of thanking you all for the immense amount of support, love and friendship you have shown to me and my family in the past year.
It makes my ministry among you a real delight. Bishop Peter in his recent pastoral visit commented on the warmth and friendliness of all those he met, and it is certainly the case that you continually encourage me by your responsiveness and willingness to engage with your faith. We have successfully moved through a period of change this year, especially with respect to our service times, the introduction of the Art Space and changes in the Parish Office and all with good humour and sensitivity to one another. So 'THANK YOU'.

Peter and I also want to wish all of you and those dear to you a joyful Christmas and a truly blessed New Year.

A close friend and former warden of Iona Abbey, Peter Millar, sent me this reflection which I hope you will enjoy.

REFLECTION FOR CHRISTMAS

In a world of many tears we search each day for markers of hope;
for the small unexpected signs of light and love;
for the quiet assurance that goodness is planted
more deeply than all that is wrong,
and that one day the captives will go free.

And sometimes on the journey we discover a gift without price -
the balm of understanding deep within our soul.

The knowledge that, despite everything,
we are companions of God in the work of creation:
wounded healers even when weeping ourselves:
bearers of Justice even when overwhelmed:
witnesses of hope even when struggling to survive.

For Light still shines, and illumining our days
we walk together in it.
And in the walking we remember and celebrate
the miracle and wonder of life -
but also something more:
the unfolding and surprising purposes of God
forever at work in ourselves and in the world.

Peter Millar, December 2009

Parish Office, Bookshop and Op Shop

2009-12-17T19:20:00.000+11:00

From 23rd December to 15th January 2010 inclusive the Parish Centre will be closed.
We will reopen on Monday 18th January, 2010.