Changing Spaces

The wanderer is changing cyber location and name. Future mullings can be found at beachblesser.wordpress.com

Quite Excited

Over the past year I have had the opportunity to be part of the Pray Now Writing Group. For those of you not in the know, "Pray Now" is a daily prayer resource published by St Andrew's Press, and those who form the writing group are ministers in and members of the Church of Scotland.


When I was first approached I wasn't sure if this was for me, but up for a challenge I thought I would give it a go.

A year on, and beginning to write for "Pray Now 2013", I still find the process a challenge.   Writing for worship is entirely different from writing material that other people may use for prayer.   When you write for worship, it is likely that it will only be you who will use it, and so right up until the moment when the words are spoken there is an opportunity for inspiration to whisk you in another direction.

However I've found learning this new process energising of the kind of worship I would hope to create.   Writing Group meetings, where we have looked over each others' work, have been encouraging experiences.   Criticism has been blended with what it is we like of another's writing, and often I have found myself inspired to look at a Biblical passage in a new way because of something someone else has written.   The Group have been very kind to my strange habit of ending up with more writing than I need, and have suggested we should create an "out-take" book just for all the pieces that didn't make it out of the folder and onto a page to be shared.

Never having had my work published before, I'm quite excited.   I see from Facebook today that "Pray Now 2012" can now be purchased on-line.   Should you buy a copy, I hope you find something that offers you an encounter with the Spirit wrestling inside you.


http://www.standrewpress.com/Products/290-pray-now-2012.aspx

Planning Good Friday

I'm sure others are well ahead in their planning, however I plan to sit down sometime this week and give serious consideration to Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday and Easter.   I share the other Holy Week Services with others, and so this year am relieved of the reponsibility of preparation for those.

That was not the case last year, where the Good Friday Service was hosted by my congregation.  

I thought I would post what happened last year just in case it is off use to others.   I would love to say that what you will see is all my own work.   However I am grateful for the creativity of others, and so much of the framework and words are borrowed from something in Seasons of the Spirit from a while ago, along with readings from from other writers.   In the text there is credit given.   Every so often there is an original thought from me.


Before the service begins an empty cross is carried to and displayed at the front of the church


Greeting 

We gather again on this Good Friday

at the foot of the cross

which call us on, not in shame or fear,
but ever more deeply
into the costly journey towards life.
There is wounding and there is weeping.
In Jesus Christ, God is not separated from that.

Opening Sentence
One: In the shadow of our suffering
ALL: IS THE SUFFERING OF JESUS.
One: In the shadow of our weakness
ALL: IS THE VULNERABILITY OF THE CHRIST.
One: In the shadow of our pain
ALL: IS THE GOD WHO CRIED OUT.
One: We are never rejected,
ALL: WE ARE NEVER LEFT ALONE.


Hymn 380 “There is a green hill far away”


Prayer

Holy God,
On this dark day
we walk with you into the darkest places of our world,
and our lives.
Bearing your cross
you lead us to discover that even in the darkest places
your love is ever present
that the place of pain
might be transformed to a place of sharing that pain
and in leading us to carry pain and sorrow in life
we discover the healing found within pain and sorrow.

So on this day,
we see the betrayal of friendship and its consequences.
On this day we remember that your enemies appear to have the upper hand.
On this day we remember that all your prophecies about the end were justified.
On this day we see how unreliable your followers proved to be in a real crisis.
On this day we appeared to see the death of God.

As we gather at the foot of the cross,
may we know your presence,
as we reflect upon this day
and the effect it has on our lives.
Enable us to remember
that the passage of events is not some distant history,
but an experience of the religious bigotry, cruelty and unreliability
that continue in our world today.
Grasping at your suffering
may we meet your willingness to walk on the boundaries of what is comfortable
that we might learn the lengths and depths of God’s love.
AMEN.


THE BETRAYALS

Scripture Reading:  John 18: 1- 11


Four people gather at the foot of the cross carrying stones.

Reader :
Betrayals lie like stone of death within us,
weighing down our lives with guilt or pain.
We place these stones of betrayal
and lay them at the foot of the cross.

Two stones are placed at the foot of the cross

Scripture Reading : John 18: 15 – 18, 25 – 27

Reader :

Humankind has not changed.
We still give power to those who use it to oppress and destroy.
We still fail to challenge those who allow the good to die.

Pause with silence

We place these fatal stumbling blocks to love,
those which lie in our own lives
and in the life of the world,
at the foot of the cross.

Two more stones are placed at the foot of the cross.

Prayer

God in Christ,
you travel with us towards the most wounded places in our souls.
You know the agony of pain, guilt, and hurt deep within us
as we face the fact that we have betrayed others
or been betrayed ourselves.
AMEN.

Hymn 395 “What wondrous love is this”

THE QUESTIONING

Scripture Reading: John 18: 28 – 40
While reading is being read, there is the sound of paper being ripped.

Reader: “What is truth?”
Now, there’s a question! What is truth? And truth was standing right there in front of him! Had he not said, “I am the way, the truth and the life!” Yet what was a king doing “bearing witness to the truth?” What sort of kingdom could he have?

Hymn 537 “We do not hope to ease our minds”

THE CRUCIFIXION

Scripture Reading: John 19: 17 – 30
While reading is being read, somewhere nails are being hammered into a piece of wood

Prayer :

Lord Jesus Christ,
wounded and crushed;
You gave your life that we might live.

Condemned Christ,
hanging in agony,
sharing the death of criminals,
we pray for those who wait:
those who wait in pain,
those who wait in anger,
those who wait in sorrow,
those who wait without hope.
We pray for ourselves,
wanting an end to pain, anger and sorrow;
aching for a new hope.

May your lingering Spirit
be the source of our life
as we witness to you
sharing pain, anger, sorrow and hope
however we can.
AMEN

(Janet Lees taken from “let justice roll down”)


Hymn 385 “Here hangs a man discarded”

During this hymn a white cloth is laid on the floor to the front of the Apse.

THE CHERISHING

Scripture Reading: John 19: 38

The cross is laid on the cloth.

Scripture Reading: John 19: 39 – 42

Reading : “Myrrh – A Reflection” from “Let justice roll”

Three Kings came
Cradled the Babe in bejewelled arms,
Gave of their gifts and left a different path,
I wonder at their gifts as I
Cradle the Babe in homespun arms.

Gold is a useful gift.
The Babe likes the glitter and clink of it
And we are glad of the security it offers;
As we walk a different path to a new land.
I cradle the Babe in my lap
And wonder at God’s mercy on it.

Frankincense – what to make of that then
Sweet smell and curled smoke rising.
A fitting sacrifice for God’s Son in Jerusalem’s Temple.
‘A sword shall pierce my heart!’
I wonder at those two old dears and their words surprising.

Myrrh – myrrh causes my heart to tremble
As I cradle the Babe against my breast.
Myrrh betokens all the world’s pain and all the world’s loss
Anointing the dead – ah let me hold Him yet awhile –
Sweet, sweet child, grow not away too fast.
Abba, heavenly Father, let me know what is best.

Myrrh anoints all the world’s pain and all the world’s loss.
‘Blessed are they who mourn for they shall be comforted!’
‘Talithi cumi – give her something to eat.’
‘If you want you can cure me.’ ‘Of course I want to be cured.’
‘Do not cry. Young man, I say to you get up.’
As salve takes the sting from the pain
Abba’s son and mine restore them to life again?

I wonder at this gift of myrrh
As I watch his body on the gibbet racked (wracked?)
My heart pierced by the pain he bears,
His head upon my breast and he, inert upon my lap.
Once more I embrace my son and wonder what we lacked
That Abba allowed it thus.

I wonder at this gift of myrrh
As I walk with the women to the tomb
How his body we need to anoint – the last comfort give.
And as I grasp the myrrh’s portent; believe: in entering the pain
Break the barriers to find him living again.
Oh Abba, loving Father, Amen, Amen.

Anne Hine

Fragrant anointing

Reader :

We remember the death of our innocent selves.
We remember the death of innocent fragile things in the person of Jesus Christ
for all eternity, no matter what that may cost.
Let us cherish this Body, as did the first disciples.
Let us reverently touch the place in which our pain now lies
and cover it with fragrant flowers and herbs.

People place petals and herbs from some bowls over and around the cross, and return to their seats

Cloth is folded over the cross to cover like a shroud.

(Before worship on Easter morning the shroud is pulled back and the cross removed leaving the cross mark in the petals.)

Reader:

It is time to leave this place.
Jesus said “Father into your hands I commend my spirit.”
In faith, we also commend ourselves into the hands of a loving God.
After we receive a blessing,
let us sing and then quietly leave this place together.


Sending forth
Go in peace, embraced in the love of Christ.
Walk deeply into your own lives, with all their frailties.
Discover, as you do that in spirit and in truth,
that you are walking towards the joy of Easter Day.


Hymn 378 “Praise to the Holiest in the height”

Creative People

Thank God for creative people.
People who touch your life
with the beauty of their imagination.

Artists who sweep
colour across a blank canvas,
and take you into different worlds.
Not all of them scenic pictures of beauty,
or pretty images of little girls.
But portraits
that capture anguish,
and pain.
Images that
reach within
and wrench at primal emotions.

Sculptors
who take clay
or wood
or wool and silk,
and shape forms
that offer the invitation
to embrace and grasp.
A maleable or solid form
that asks to be touched,
that in the encounter
a response is drawn forth.

Writers
who carefully craft words
that transport
from this present moment
to another place
or time;
who open eyes
to what it might be like
to live within another skin.
Pages to ponder,
or return to,
as layer of nuance
reveals a path.

Musicians
who in major key
might skip across
the open field in golden sunshine,
while in the minor
transport you to the depths of Sheol
to face the terrors
hidden deep within.
With melody and rhythm
tantalising
hidden passions for dance and song.
Caressing
the sorrowing and bereft
with engulfing phrasing.


Thank God for creative people,
who imagination
and encourage  with their dreams and visions
to never settle
for one view.
Instead they lead
to the myriad of creation's display.

Sunny Days

Today is a glorious sunny day and because of that I had thought I would take advantage of the spring-like weather and venture out and catch up with the world beyond the manse door.   This morning I have managed to fit in two meetings that add a little bit of direction to some of the things that might happen around congregational life.   One alleviated me of a convenership, while the other gave me a new task but not one I have to necessarily hurry over.

This afternoon, I headed out the front door not long after finishing my lunch and wandered along to visit one of the congregation members.   I had promised to do so before heading off on holiday and today presented an ideal opportunity.   On meeting the Nursing Home manager at the door my plan was thwarted as said lady was watching a film - these things happen.

So taking advantage of being in an area I thought I might try some of those who lived near-by.   They too were obviously taking advantage of the weather, and hopefully they will be enjoying the world as it presents itself today.  

However having rung four doorbells, I have given up my plan for the afternoon and am following my one-time supervisor's advice - if after four doors there is no-one home, go and do something else.

Of course had I phoned ahead I might have known there would be no-one there, but I left with a planned visit I thought might take a while.   My thought had been to make the journey to that area worthwhile once my original plan had failed.

So now to make an hour's unexpected desk time worthwhile.   Who knows, perhaps this week I might have a sermon idea before Friday.

Birthing

For personal and spiritual reasons I've been thinking about "birth".   I'm in the midst with some others of preparing meditations and prayers for devotional material and one of the themes I have is about being born or giving birth.

I thought this would be relatively easy to write as the experience of birth is one I've been part of on three occasions - my own and both my children's.   Obviously I don't have any particular memories of my own, and while I should remember my children's, the wonderful things called nature has made them perhaps not as memorable for me as they seem to have been for my husband who was probably the more conscious of us on both occasions.

I like devotional material that allows me to take more than one interpretation from a piece, so that it can appeal in different ways at different times in my life.   I think as I'm beginning the sketching outlines that is what I'm aiming for with "birth".

For me the individual relationship with the unborn child or idea is about both nurture and struggle.   While the unborn is within your internal womb, it is for the one who mothers it to dream of what it may bring in the future.  

Yet in the moment of birth, that child or idea no longer belongs to you alone.   Instead it is set free in the world for others to mould and shape.   You may still play your part but as the child or idea grows there is a time for the mother to step back and allow independence if the fruition of the womb-time dreams are to become real.

In my aging years, I hope someone reminds me of these thoughts.   Should I hinder my children's independence as they grow beyond the needing my immediate attention and support, I'm hoping someone will have the kindness to remind me that birthing is but a moment (although sometimes lengthy and painful).   Instead may I be willing to share with others the celebration of growing life that finds a place within the worldly community.

Best Laid Plans

With the children finally back to school, and some sense of normal routine moving into place, this morning I awoke with plans for the day.   At 9am I sat at my desk and wrote my list of things I hope to achieve, most of which was arranging meetings for the next few weeks.   Sadly I am now waiting for confirmation that two meetings can take place before I organise the next two.

This is often my frustration and one of the reasons why it seems to take so long for things to happen or I then forget to progress things forward as the task drops off the list of "to-dos" for that week.   Sadly it is part and parcel of what I think most ministers do.   For many of us, the volunteers who take part in meetings and organisation either have day jobs or commitments during the day and so cannot respond to e-mail or phone calls immediately.   Instead a waiting game for knowledge of availability takes place.  

By this time tomorrow I should have a rough idea of when meetings are happening so that I can start organising the next batch.   But by this time tomorrow there are two new items to be added to the list already.

So while I wait I might work on a couple of the written items on my list, for there's a funeral to write and the fun of writing a "theology of hall letting".   That in itself may result in another wander into blogging as I work through some of the questions I have and responses that the elders have made.

Holidays a coming!

Today marks the last three days before we finally take our summer break.   As always there never seems to be enough time to do all the things that should be done before we go.   Still this morning I was writing my list of things to do and people to see in the last 72 hours.   My good plans for this evening were scuppered when it was discovered that one of the adults in our house would need to be at the Cub AGM and barbecue this evening.   So a parent has gone, and instead I have had to write notes to those I had hoped to see.   I'm sure I will find time to post them tomorrow.

Tomorrow will go with a swing as I attempt to meet a lady who has joined the congregation and yet I've never worked out who she was; send out some e-mails to some people about coming to speak; head into the office to tidy up before going; and spend an evening at Presbytery.

While I've now discovered that my husband is supposed to be at a concert on Wednesday, when I have an evening communion to be doing.   There have been some frantic phonecalls to arrange a short term babysitter.

And in amongst the working things I still want to leave the house clean and tidy; make sure the children get to the last week of all their activities; phone the people who own the house we are going to; pack; think about packed lunch for the journey.

No doubt as we leave in the early morning at the close of the week, I will have come to the conclusion that some things are not worth worrying about.

Challenging convention?

In the school where I share chaplaincy with a colleague, today was the Prinmary 7 Leavers' Assembly for the School.   They will do the same assembly again on Wednesday afternoon for their mums and dads.

As always the assembly was very good, with the odd moment where someone needed to speak up, or there was an in-joke no-one else would get, or people forgot their lines or their actions.   It is however always a good way to spend a Friday morning as we head towards the holidays.

A Leavers' Assembly often includes important memories of school life for the Primary 7, and this year's was no exception.   With the help of a regenerating Dr. Who and Tardis we travelled backwards and forward through their memories of school.   We joined them in Primary 1 with their teacher and their "buddies"; were whisked to Benmore for their experiences of a night-time walk; cheered on sports day and wondered at "potted" sports.   We were even taken 15 years into the future to see who the Primary 7 were in 2025 - it looked like a lot of artists, footballers and teachers.   But we also had architects, doctors, vets and racing drivers.

There was one memory that intrigued me though.  

I've been here 8 years now and my colleague, 9.   When this group of children started at the school, we were the chaplains.   In Primary 3, the children look at different celebrations and one of those is a wedding.   For a number of years now my colleague has led them through a mock wedding, while I work the sound system.   The children recognised that this was an important memory for them, and included it in their show.

That all seems fantastic, a sign that we are touching the lives of young people.   So what intrigued me?   You'll love this!   My colleague and I are both women, and yet the part of the minister in their wedding was played by a boy.   I suspect that for many of these children we are their only experience of ministers, and I'm not sure whether wonderfully or not, they recognise that ministry is a task that continues to be performed by men and women.

I found it funny, and I'm not sure how I'm going to tell my colleague that her character was played by a boy.

Hill Climbing

It has been a while since I've written anything.   The end of April/beginning of May had a few tough days, and for me it was important to take time to reflect upon those moments before heading back to a vaguely public format to say anything whether it be of interest or not.

Hill climbing has been a daily occurrence as I attended as a commissioner at this year's Church of Scotland General Assembly.   Once upon a time, the climb to New College was a regular feature of life for on leaving school I went to work in a city centre bank and walking home would enjoy either the Playfair Steps or the Mound.   Then whilst at New College studying for the variety of qualifications that would keep me there for 6 years, so that I might fulfil the Church of Scotland's education criteria, trips to Princes Street always involved a return trip back to the top of the hill.

This week has had me realise just how fit I must have been in those days.   I still maintain that the best way to get to New College from Princes Street is to take the Playfair steps at full speed.   Thus the peching and pain is overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure in having got to the top.   However walking with others meant I would have to take it at their speed.   The walk round the Mound involved a breathless trot beside a 6 foot man.   While I had to take the pain of a slow ascent of the Playfair Steps with a woman of a similar size.   The slow pace had the peching start before we got past the second set of steps, and for a while I thought I might not manage all four.

For those who come from the railway station or anywhere on the north side of Princes Street there is a very real sense of climbing to the top of a hill to experience the presence of God in the midst of a community of His people.


Yet the past week has for me been a metaphorical climb as well.   Today I'm still peching, and in the mist that clouds my thoughts I'm not sure if I've made it to the top or still have a way to climb.   I feel like I am really struggling with the climb, and trying to decide which path to take next.

There were glorious moments at the General Assembly.  It was good to clearly state that as a church  we continue to have a passion for the mission of Jesus Christ, and that we believe that we should continue to find ways to ensure that every part of Scotland is touched by the passion of that mission.   Emotionally charged moments as the forces chaplains bore witness to those they care for in the troops serving in Iraq and Afghanistan, and in the youth delegate who spoke courageously of her experience of anorexia.   Even just the sheer sense of community as commissioners sought God's spirit in their decisions.

Yet while it was not a big part of the General Assembly the notion that leafy, suburb parishes being easy to minister to and that those serving them are failing to hear God's call was banded about quite vocally, and it has stuck in my head and I find myself sitting on the hillside not sure where to go, head in hands and almost weeping.

Those of you who have worked out where I am will probably recognise that suburbs don't come much leafier than mine.   Having a hill and two golf courses really emphasies the leafiness, and heading home one evening I was struck by just how leafy it looked at this time of year.   For just over a year I have been feeling unsettled, as I've always understood that ministry has a cycle and for me that cycle was drawing to a rounded position and so was it time to move on or was there a sense that there was a place for me in the next cycle of where this congregation was going.   At the start of this year, as we started as a congregation to think about our next period of planning that unease began to settle.  

I really struggle with the notion that people think that serving in the suburbs is easy, and that those of us who do have no sense of call and are busy enjoying the theatre, cinema and libraries with all the spare time we have.

Now in my second charge I have experience of two different places to minister to, both of which have had very different challenges and wonderful rewards in the sharing of faith.

My first charge was a former mining town, not the most attractive of places and rundown both in physical presence and in people's perception.   Young people drank in the church grounds throughout the year.   The manse was a stopping place for a bowl of soup for those in need.   For a girl with a sheltered up-bringing, I sometimes felt I'd been thrown in at the deep end, and was swimming as best I could as I learnt to deal with situations I had ne experience of.   But for me it still remains a halcyon moment of ministry.   No matter the dwindling attenence on Sundays, there was still a sense that the church was part of the community.   No matter where I went people recognised me as the local minister, and the minister still had a clear role as representative of the Christian faith in many spheres of public life as well as the role of leadership in the congregation.  

The congregation itself also had a sense of purpose, as they used their differing gifts to respond to God in their lives.   They were practical people, who found ways to give in more than financial ways.   One of the best moments there has to have been in their recognition that they needed to open their halls for community use, and that having done so they would need to meet the needs for those now using the hall and add a disabled loo.   They did as presbytery required and sought three quotes - two from outside builders and one from a groups within the congregation - and then proceeded to build the facility for themselves using the works manager, plumber, electrician and extra hands all found within the congregation.

In contrast, I have not found ministry in this setting easier, despite this being the kind of setting that I grew up in.   In part that has always been my own unease at coming here.   For a good number of the early years I felt that I had sold out in leaving behind a parish that "really needed" a minister to serve one that could "afford" to have a minister.    I share my community with a number of other ministers and beyond our congregations I suspect that there are very few people in our parishes who would recognise any of us individually as local ministers.   There are not the same kind of community organisations or events into which an automatic invite is extended, and so time is spent finding ways in which to make the Chrisian faith and our activity as a congregation relevant into the situation in which we are placed.   Our presence doesn't always automatically touch others with Christ's presence, instead in the plans we make as a congregation we are engaging with how we do touch the lives of those who keep their pains and distresses hidden.  

There is also not the same congregational commitment to practical service in Christ's name.   This is the culture where we have money to pay people to do things, and that extends to church cleaning and repairs  - and even to having a minister to act as the professional Christian for them.   They "pay for a minister" and that minister is at their bidding to do as they expect and not necessarily as God calls.   (In saying that I acknowledge that that would be a minority view, but as always within our church the minority view is often particularly vocal).

But in amongst the struggles, there have been good things here as well.   A Stewardship Campaign brought a sense of community and sharing of gifts.   There are a good number of families involved, and children usually appear for most things.  

On the hillside sitting my thoughts are that there is no such thing as an "easy" place to minister, instead each type of congregation and community brings its own set of challenges and an equally wonderful set of rewards that speak of God revealing his presence in human existence.  The mistake we make in our humanity is viewing the other kinds of ministry as lesser, more important, not spiritual.   I recognise that there is a real challenge for us as a church to find ways to witness to Christ across Scotland, and population shifts to the central belt that does create difficulties for smaller communities in more remote areas.   However that witness is not going to be increased by diminishing the call and ministry of each other by believing that we can only really represent Christ in particular situations.   Instead all we do is further enhance the division and disquiet that exist within our reforming tradition.

On Monday morning I will need to get up from my seat on this hill and head either to the top and hope for a better view, or look for a new path.   Disquieting feelings are important for they allow for the testing of God's spirit, but they don't make for a comfortable journey.  

He is not here. He is risen!

Yesterday was spent preparing the church for Easter morning.   Children appeared for the afternoon and crafted away, to prepare paper daffodils for our cross and marble designed paper for egg cut outs.  

The night before at the Good Friday service we share with 8 other church, we welcomed them to our building and marked our betrayals and accusations before annointing the cross with fragrant spices.   So part of the afternoon was also about opening up the white cloth and removing the cross front it, the children were happy to play their part in the mystery.  

I'm still considering whether or not to put the liturgy that we used that evening on here.   So far it hasn't appeared as I borrowed pieces from other places, as well as adapting it to suit our puposes, so I need to think how best to credit the places I borrowed from.

This morning we gathered early to rise with Christ and eat bacon rolls.   At the start of the morning service the church was full of aroma and potential.  The aroma of the lilies and the fragrant spices blended well with the smell of bacon.   The 250 orders of service ran out, and the fun of a baptism all contributed to a wonderful morning.  

I have to compliment the choir, who held off on their anthem until after the sermon and then gave a truly beautiful rendition of "Jesu. Joy of man's desiring".

No theological statements to make.   No point, but just a pause to say great day, and to acknowledge that he is not here in this moment, but out there waiting for me/us to walk into the future.

And also a place to put the photos of people's artful worship.

A Holy Week Labyrinth

I've spent a bit of Lent searching for some Labyrinth "stage" words that were appropriate for Holy Week, and found nothing.   Eventually I admitted defeat and wrote something of my own.   It is still a work in progress and may change before Sunday night.   However for others who might appreciate a help in creating something I'm putting it here.

The Holy Week Labyrinth

Welcome to the Holy Week Labyrinth.

Labyrinths were once an ancient form of pilgrimage for those who would not make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
Today this Labyrinth also offers a pilgrimage-
some time away from the differing tasks and noises of life –
and instead dwell in the moment here in this place within God’s love.

Our Holy Week Labyrinth starts under the Palms and the cheerful noise of crowds; allows for expressions of anger and encourages us to think about how we can react positively; soothes the calluses and sores of past hurts;
meets us in the moments when we betray the ones we love and Christ himself; before finally standing at the cross with the hopes of what we would hope to be finished in God’s embrace of love.


Make yourself comfortable for the journey...

Leave your coat or jacket on a pew....

If you feel comfortable, take of your shoes and walk in bare or stocking feet...

Breathe slowly and enjoy the time of resting in faith...

Take your time,...

and pause for as long as you need at each station.

 

Station 1


Palm Branches
(Prop - Palm branch or tree)
“...a great multitude that had come to the fast, when they heard that Jesus was coming to Jerusalem, took branches of palm trees and went out to meet Him and cried out: ‘Hosanna! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! The King of Israel!’”

Safety in numbers.
Is that why we like worship?
We can leave behind our personal thoughts and be pulled into the crowd mentality.
We get lost in the throng,
blend away and hope that the Holy Spirit won’t disturb us,
by moving her wild nature, and ask us to be extraordinary.

Palm branches waving around us...
...offering us cover to walk away from the crowd,
and share a journey to a cross.

Away from the safety of the crowd...
...leaving the noise of the world behind.

Away from the safety of the crowd...
...we focus on the sound of swaying branches...
...the passing breeze...
...the temperate climate.

Away from the safety of the crowd...
...we follow the Way of Christ.


Station 2


Holy Anger
(prop - building bricks)

“In the temple courts he found men selling cattle, sheep and doves, and others sitting at tables exchanging money. So he made a whip out of cords, and drove all from the temple area, both sheep and cattle; he scattered the coins of the money changers and overturned their tables. To those who sold doves he said, ‘Get these out of here! How dare you turn my Father’s house into a market!’”

What makes you angry?

What frustration could be placed within these blocks before you?


When knocked down take time to experience the noise and the sense of release from the anger.


Often we say that something makes us “sad”, when in fact what we mean is that something makes us “angry”.
We believe that it is “unfaithful” to be angry.

Yet Jesus got angry...
...and in his anger with situations he did not just cause disruption...
...but sought to encourage others to think of ways to change...
...that God’s community might grow in its love and respect of each other


Now take time to rebuild the bricks...

In building take time to think how an expression of your anger might be used constructively in some of the situations that affect the communities you are part of.


Station 3


Anointing
(prop - hand cream)

“Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume: she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume”

“After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him.”


Have a seat and make yourself comfortable.

Take a little of the hand cream before you
and work it into your hands or your feet.

First notice your skin...
...see the colour, the imperfections, the marks left by daily tasks.


Now as you smooth the cream in around the joints and knuckles ...
...notice the sensation of touch.
How does the skin feel? What bones can you feel beneath?

Then encounter the fragrance...
...heady or light...
...evocative of past encounters, loving words,
or times of struggle


When another places their hand upon us...
...we are reminded of our humanity
and the care compassion of the other.


When we reach out the hand of friendship in Christ’s name...
...we ensure that another knows that they belong within the community we seek to create.


Station 4


Betrayal
(prop - silver coins)

“Now Judas, who betrayed him, knew the place, because Jesus had often met there with his disciples. So Judas came to the grove, guiding a detachment of soldiers and some officials from the chief priests and Pharisees.”

Betrayer or betrayed ...
...it hurts.

When we find others have spoken harshly about us,
or have let us down in love,
or failed to speak up for us in public...
...we feel the pain of every word spoken (or not spoken)
as though it is being hammered into our flesh.


Not always the innocents though...
...we too jab at others with our words...
...our inaction...
...our lack of trust in all that we are taught in Christ’s name.


Silver pieces mark that so often we respond to others in a worldly way...
...rather than a Godly way.

We act out of what is best for us as individuals...
...rather than recognising the cost to the community.


Lifting the silver today,
will we replace it in recognition of our desire
to live out God’s love in community.


Station 5


The Cross
(props - wooden cross, cut out flower shapes, pencils)

“When he had received the drink, Jesus said, ‘It is finished.’ With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.”


While reaching the foot of the cross marks the end of our Labyrinth journey,
the cross in Christian faith marks an end and a beginning.


Jesus speaks the words , ‘It is finished’,
and we hear this as more than a statement that his life has come to an end.
Instead we hear them as a comment of the strength of the old ways of human existence being challenged by his way,
a way where all people matter,
no matter their gender, age, ability, or colour.


The cross marks a beginning of hope.
Death gives way to possibilities of new things.
While we might struggle with the notion of an afterlife
we understand the need for resurrection, for re-birth.


Take time before you leave to clothe the cross with a mark of your hope for and end to something that will allow new hope or growth in your life, or the life of the community you are part of.

Flowers and pencils are available.
Feel free to either simply attach a flower,
or to write what it is that needs completed for there to be rebirth,
and then attaching it.


Your Journey Home

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face;

the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,

may God hold you in the palm of His hand.




traditional gaelic blessing



 

"Old"

For a while, although I would be hard pressed to tell you how long, when I've been referring to readings from what is considered the "Old Testament" as "A reading from the Older Testament".   It started at some point last year when the RCL focus was on Mark, as the more we worked away through the Gospel, the more connected to the Hebraic texts that lay behind the story I felt.   The more we lived in the Gospel of Mark, the more I found some of the literature from the older part of the Bible come alive.  (One of the beauties of the Revised Common Lectionary is that you do return to texts, and I'm now on my fifth time round on them and still finding things I hadn't noticed before.)

In the process of that happening I wanted to remind the congregation that our faith had it's roots in something ancient, and yet something that still had value for the world today.   I know this is semantics and for most people in the congregation it probably didn't desperately matter whether they were "Scripture Readings" or "Old Testament Readings" or from the Gospels or from the letters.   However underlying my chain of thought was that we tend to disregard what is "old" as being something to be cast aside or worthless - unless of course it is antique.   We even do it with people which is one of the reasons I very rarely refer to "old" people, but prefer "older", reminding myself at the very least that all opinions matter.

I was conscious that some of the American churches used the word "original", but I suspected that wouldn't work so well.   And I thought that people might struggle to make a leap to "Hebrew" Bible.   So I settled with "Older".

There's not been a furore.   In fact I wonder if most people have even noticed.   However last week our new organist asked, and so I explained the above.   Tonight at our worship team meeting one of the congregation representatives raised it saying that one person near her had turned to someone who was about to read and said "if you read "older", then I will get up and walk out of the church."   So we chatted through why, and an article will make its way into the magazine sometime.   But in the meantime we need to get across to readers that they say what they are comfortable with.

Only one negative comment.   But if it is making people uncomfortable do I need to review it - or is this one of those occasions where the discomfort is probably worth the while?   Something to ponder over before we make it to the Management Committee meeting or eventually the Kirk Session meeting.   Of course the naughty thing to do would be to try "Hebrew Scriptures" or "Original Testament" and see what is said then.

But I'm not naughty!

Whispering moment

I was just about to write a full blog about something that is happening here, and it suddenly occurred to me that occasionally people read this.   So something is happening and as always I've been surprised - good surprised.   There's something to tell and I will tell all soon.

Opportunities for Learning

The last couple have weeks have offered the opportunity to enjoy some lectures.   Last week was a fascinating and truly enjoyable talk on "The Kirk and Scottish Literature", while tonight was "The Kirk and Visual Arts".

Since hitting the parish, I've often felt bereft of intellectual stimulous or the time to do it.   Amongst colleagues I often feel underprepared, and somewhat lacking in an underlying knowledge of the written word of any kind.   What thrilled me about last week's lecture, was not just the engagement of looking at the links between church and literature, but also an opportunity to perhaps encounter some texts that I hadn't read but that might also be readable.   And yet a silent thrill was to discover that I'm not as illiterate as I think I am, for many of the texts quoted from where things I had read, and things that I loved.   There are a few things that I've written down that I want to explore for the first time, or re-visit with fresh thoughts.

Tonight's lecture was given by John Lowrie Morrison (JoLoMo), who offered an opportunity to encounter the breadth of religious art, and yet also offered an opportunity to see the Reformation as an opporunity for flowering of Christian art - faith expressed through art, rather than depictions of Christian history.   So we were drawn to the light, texture, and creation of artwork.

I'm not sure I'll get to next week's lecture on Music, as I have a meeting about halls and possible develpments.   I'm now wondering how I could get that over with in an hour, to jump on the bus and stimulate my brain more.

The brain stimulation is working though as I'm reminded that further study is important.   It is not just for me, but for the people I would want to serve.   The university course I've been thinking of looks all the more enticing, and having broached with the Kirk Session about their support of my doing some further study I now feel more confident about finding those degree certificates and talking to some people about how to get going.

Do not be afraid...

Last Sunday the elders led worship.   They had a ready prepared script with hymns already picked, and yet obviously as this was not a frequent occurrence for them they needed to rehearse and ensure it would all work for them.

Last week I was a bit of a huff - I have weeks like that.   During the week I managed to exhibit that huff on a few occasions, and one such occasion was following the rehearsal of the elders.   During the run through, they had decided that one of the hymns wasn't one that should be sung, and so, as I wasn't in the manse or church, left a message to say they wanted to change it.

I heard the message and I immediately knew which hymn it was, without even being told.   In the week prior to the rehearsal I had checked the hymns and thought they were all fine.   The organist and I changed one tune, but the rest were known to the congregation so therefore should work.  

After lunch, the call to the elder was returned and I pretended not to know which hymn they wanted to change and sure enough I had it spot on.   "Why?", I asked.   "We didn't really think it was appropriate for children, and it's not known here."

At this point the huff started.   Of course it was known.   It has been used in worship in my time.   Of course it's appropriate to children.   What child doesn't need to know that God is with them at all times of life?   It matches the reading it follows.   And so I went on...

The elder agreed with my perspective and phoned the others to let them know that the hymn would not be changed.

But I felt guilty.   Guilty enough to e-mail the organist and ask if they would mind the hymn changing.   Guilty enough that while drinking coffee with a colleague and challenged as to why I had interfered in the Elders' Service I had had to think again.

Once home I phoned and apologised to the elder that I had huffed at, and the hymn was duly changed.

Why did I feel guilty?   For some of the elders this was a new experience and they needed to feel comfortable, and deep within me I knew the hymn made them feel uncomfortable for it spoke to the things that they were afraid of.   They needed to be comfortable and happy with what they were presenting, and if changing a hymn made them so then that was the thing to do.

Hilariously though when I mentioned the not knowing the hymn to the 17 year old choirmaster, he thought I was being funny.   He knew it and his only experience of church is this one.   But the call was the right one to make, and Sunday was a more than worthwhile experience.

A Bleak Mid-winter!?

There was a rye smile on many a face this morning as I announced the closing hymn of "In the Bleak Mid-Winter".   After yet another snow shower this morning, a good number of people had abandoned their cars and pulled on their hiking boots to make their way to church.

The dilemma for the minister began at 10am this morning.   There had been a small part of me that had thought about checking the heating was working yesterday, but other things overtook and I didn't.   The reality is I don't think it would have made any difference.   However at 10am this morning the phone rang from the church to let me know that there was no heating in the sanctuary.   The light was on suggesting it should be working but there was no heat in the pipes.  

Never one to make an instant decision, the office bearers there set about setting up the hall for worship as I thought about what to do.   Walking into the boiler house revealed the problem, and so there is a burst pipe to be fixed at some point this week.   I'm hoping we haven't made the situation worse by turning the heating to the sanctuary off entirely.

I don't like worship in the hall, as nothing is in the right place and the sound system doesn't work for me so well.   I find myself having to reign my voice in.   However not wanting to be in the hall was made worse with a new organist starting today, and not wanting them to feel uncomfortable in a new situation with strange happenings.  But a decision had to be made and with people potentially complaining about the cold in the church we moved to the hall.   This time the complaint was not enough seats, but that is a good complaint to have.

The rye smiles though were for the fact that despite the weather as a congregation we have had a fruitful season, with people making real efforts to be here.   The photo with this piece is one of my favourite of Christmas Eve.   In the midst of falling snow many families felt it was important to be at our Christingle serve and so made their way here on sledges.   The Christingle and Watchnight Service are two services that really touch our community with nearly 700 people appearing across both of them.   So it was good that no matter what the weather people still wanted to celebrate God's gift of love to the world.

Gifting

This is quite daring for me - to post a sermon before I've preached it.   At the moment it is not quite finished, I will return to it in the morning.   It is not quite where I planned to finish it in my head, although the notion that the whole of life including the pain and suffering is the gift is still what I plan to convey.   Uncomfortable for some to hear this weekend after a fortnight of festivities.

Sunday 3rd  January 2010
Epiphany
Isaiah 60: 1 - 6
Matthew 2: 1 - 12
Unusually this morning, we have sung “The Twelve Days of Christmas”.   While we might consider it a Christmas Carol, and while it may have made its way into the pages of “Carols for Choirs” it is very difficult to justify as a carol that we might sing as part of morning worship.   However this morning it is my gift to you,
a little bit of seasonal fun as we consider the gifts of the Magi to the Christ child.

As a youngster, “The Twelve Days of Christmas” was an important part of Christmas tradition. During the five year period that we sang in the choir of a Church of England congregation, this “carol” or nonsense song was always part of the annual choir Christmas concert that took place on the Saturday evening before Christmas. During that concert we sang all of the music that we had been learning from October onwards for the Advent, Christmas and Epiphany season, some that would have been used during Sunday and Christmas worship, and some that was purely for the concert.    It was also an opportunity to allow a little showing off amongst the young people, and those of us chosen to sing solos had an opportunity to show the full range that our voices could muster.


However, the Twelve Days of Christmas marked a moment in the concert when we were allowed to break free from our choir stalls, and sit in amongst the congregation.   In the week prior to the concert we would have been told which of the twelve gifts we were to be, and in twos and threes we would have rehearsed our own section adding in our own finesse and fun.   Some of it was about vocal finesse, while the other part was about imaginative fun. During the concert we made our away into the audience and were then there to encourage the small section of the audience roundabout us to sing our part along with us.   Sometimes it was merely about getting them to stand up at the right time, while other times there was some fancy note work or some actions to encourage them in.


So for youngsters it was an opportunity to have fun with music.   A carol never sung at any other time, as it seemed to have no real message or purpose within the Christian tradition.


Or does it?


As is often the case with nonsense songs, there is often a story that goes along with them that may dispel the thought that it is nonsense, or may further add to the belief that it is nonsense.


The story can be found in many places, and yet my version of it is found in “Uncle John’s Great Big Bathroom Reader”.   It suggests that the song originates from the mid 16th Century, at a time when expressing your Catholic faith was difficult. The song was written and used as a way of expressing belief and teaching the catechism.   And so each of the gifts speaks of a marvellous gift given by God.


Twelve drummers were the 12 points of faith in the Apostles’ Creed.
Eleven Pipers were the 11 faithful disciples.
Ten Lords were the 10 commandments.
Nine ladies were the professed gifts of the Holy Spirit.
Eight maids were the eight beatitudes.
Seven swans, the seven sacraments of the Roman Church.
Six geese represented the six days of creation.
Five gold rings reminded the believer of the first five books of the bible,
the Pentateuch.
Four calling birds were the four gospels and the four evangelists who wrote them.
Three French hens were faith, hope and charity or love.
Two turtle doves were the Old and New Testaments.

And finally a partridge in a pear tree spoke of Jesus Christ.


Investigating through books and the internet, there are a variety of sources that would agree with these thoughts on a seeming nonsense song. The Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes does not go as far as to suggest that it is a catechism song, but instead suggests that the 12 gifts may have significance as foods or sports for each of the months of the years.


Matching the positive thoughts on the song though, there are other views who see this thought of a catechism song as folklore or a modern urban myth.   The debunkers of the myth look at the period into which the song is said to have been important as a catechism song, and point out that while there is truth in the persecution of the Catholic faith, there is little merit in the belief that this song highlight truths that were remarkably different from the Church that would emerge from the reign of Henry the VIII onwards.   There would also seem to be little correlation between the differing gifts and the tenet of faith it represents,   and so there are questions as to how each of the items would enable a child to remember.


Whether or not the song is a catechism song, or a forfeiture song – a song whereby people took their turn and wither sang the verse right, of paid a forfeit, it has an opportunity though to speak of the giving of God.
For in the multiplicity and extravagance of the gifts, we are asked to remember the overwhelming nature of God’s gifts given to us.


So from a song of gifting, we move to our Biblical gifts as we move towards the twelfth day of the Christmas period and journey to Epiphany.   Our readings focus on Isaiah and Matthew, and Matthew itself draws on the book of Isaiah as an opportunity to demonstrate that Jesus was the fulfilment of ancient prophecy.  



It is not new to say to this congregation that there is a possibility that the Nativity narratives found in the gospels of Matthew and Luke may not speak of historical events, but are instead stories that reveal the truth of who Jesus is in the world.   And as we approach the house where Jesus is to be found with the magi
perhaps it is worth bearing that in mind.   For the physicality of the gifts they offer may not be the important thing, but instead the truth that they unveil about Jesus is prime.


In the book “The First Christmas” by Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan, much time is spent examining closely what it is that each of the Nativities stories seeks to do if they are not history.   Perhaps I should say
that by a good number of people Borg and Crossan are considered maverick in their thoughts, and yet I suspect that what they say perhaps fits comfortably with the views of people sitting in the pew.


There view of both Nativity stories is that they are both parabolic overtures to the story of Jesus.   For the musicians and musical lovers that notion of an overture us perhaps important, for in an overture the style of music for a show or opera is set, and highlights of what is to come played out.   In the gospels, Jesus speaks in parable of what the kingdom of heaven is like, and so in these birth stories that style is borrowed, and the highlights of what the purpose of Jesus’s life will be is played out in the telling of a story of the beginning.   When we look at Luke’s narrative as an overture of the gospel then we discover three themes will be brought out in the story – an emphasis on women, the marginalised and the Holy Spirit.   While Matthew’s Gospel offers the major theme of a basic parallel between Moses and Jesus.   Jesus is portrayed as the new Moses.


This parabolic overture theme is of particular importance when it comes to this Sunday of Epiphany, of unveiling or revealing, for it reminds us that the gift we have been given is bigger than a human form, but instead an invasion of God into human existence to allow for an encounter of his love.   The gifts themselves of gold, frankincense and myrrh are glorious gifts, but it is not the physicality of them that is most important,
but instead the story and myth around them that speak of who Jesus will be in human life.


So we recognise that the gold speaks of Christ’s kingship, and that frankincense will speak of his priestly role within the community of faith, while the myrrh, as an embalming oil, foretells of Jesus’s eventual death.   We are more than happy to live with lovely gifts of gold and incenses, but do we want to live with a gift that speaks of death.


This notion of gifts saying more than the physicality of the gift is something that we live with today, although perhaps because we live with it we don’t always recognise it.   We might “say it with flowers”, and we can say a variety of things from love to sorrow.   Even birthday and Christmas gifts for the giver and receiver
often convey more than mere words can say.   Although to suggest that a gift of bath things conveys anything g more than the receiver needs to relax, might be considered a little unkind.


But I want to wander back to the discomfort of the gift as I head to some kind of close this morning.   If the myth behind the story of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” that it is a catechism song written that the faith might be passed down to those whose were being persecuted for what they believed is true, then while it is a wonderful truth it is also unpleasant as it reminds us of what we do to each other in faith.   If the truth behind the nativity myths is that they reveal the purpose of God’s son from the beginning chapters, then that is uncomfortable for we are asked to encounter from the earliest words the reality that the son of God was not immediately recognised or universally accepted.


Yet the discomfort of a gift is a reality that as humanity we are asked to recognise in the story of Jesus.   For life is full of uncomfortable gifts that we are asked to open and in our faith respond to.   In amongst the lovely gifts of riches and sweet smelling existence, there are the tough times and choices, the living alongside poverty and ill health.   These are gifts that cannot be ignored or set aside or left upwrapped.   Instead from the opening overtures of the story of God’s interaction with humanity we meet that the gift is revealed when we respond to God’s love and play our part.   The gift is revealed when the fullness of faith is played out in human existence.

Advent Concluding

This weekend past marked for me the final step towards Christmas.   The last weekend before Christmas here is always the Nativity service, and that in itself lends challenges to the role of minister.   Yet the day is always a day of contrasts as we move from Nativity to Communion at the close of the morning service, and then spend an hour in the afternoon thoughtfully encountering "Blue Christmas".

So what challenges can a simple Nativity play send the way of a minister?

In recent years it has been good to have a non-Sunday School person in charge of the Nativity.   They have coached the children in their lines; thought about stage direction; cast the whole thing. And for the most part it works well and I need have very little to do with it, except smile sweetly at the end and say how good it was.  

This year involved new challenges though, like the suggestion that perhaps the stage could be put up prior to worship of last week's service - thus allowing the cast to immediately rehearse at the close of worship.   I fell back to the minister's usual stance of "I'll think about it" and walked away to mutter under my breath.   Two days later those who asked suggested themselves that it was unrealistic - once they realised that there was a baptism and three professions of faith that morning.   I think the thought of ministers mountaineering across staging to the various parts of the chancel used during such a service was too much.

Having found a version of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" that spoke of the star's importance in the Nativity, I thought it would be nice for the two ministers to have a little fun at the Nativity service and so we dueted.   I however forgot that my own child would take umbridge at the incorrect words being sung.   The child proceeded to cry and put her fingers in her ears at what I'm told was a rather good rendition of the nursery rhyme.   Said child was duly removed from church once her mother had finished singing while the other minister carried on with worship.   Mrs. Claus has since phoned the house requesting a conversation with the child and the child is now aware they are close to the naughty list and are attempting various versions of "good and kind".   (For those wondering how such a feat may happen, it involved text messaging your home phone, and hoping the BT voice will come good for you.)

Blue Christmas functions as an alternative to the merriment of the earlier service, and several people take advantage of the different atmosphere.   This is our 8th year, and while numbers are never huge, for the few who come it offers an opportunity to reflect on those they miss and the situations they struggle with.   It often functions with where I am with being fed up with the season, as I still struggle with this need to celebrate Christmas before the event.   So yesterday we reflected on being "exiled" from the communities that we seek to be part of, because we cannot share the values of those communities.   (My congregation know all to well that Christmas trees before the 24th is an outrage to me - although they also recognise that to keep my small people happy it goes up 5 days before because they cannot understand why we need to be different.)   There is something precious about waiting, about being creative in how we spend that time, and yet we live in a world where everything has to happen now.

This week heralds a Carol Celebration, and then Christingle, Watchnight and Christmas Day.   Christingle has become one of the favourite services here.    A good number of the community come to share in the expectation and the bathing in twinkling light.   My story for the evening is searched out, and I think the only thing still to do is make sure we have enough candle lighters.   Then in the first verse of "Away in a Manger"   in the twinkling darkness as the children sing, I will have my annual sob.

Watchnight is a work in progress.   Prayers are written, however I need to settle down at some point in the next two days and put down some ideas for a sermon.

And Christmas Day, while I will be in attendence, I will arrive just in time with my family and sit and let my colleague lead the show.   Finally the waiting will have ended, and the gift of God's love will be opened among us again.  

Hopefully the reminder of naughty list will not needed again and we will get to the event in good spirits.

In the meantime I am continuing in the waiting, hoping that creativity might strike.

Gaudete

This year has been full of wonderful moments when I have been so encouraged by where I am and the people I serve.   Today was no less an eperience.

We marked "Gaudete" with an infant baptism and with three professions of faith and admissions to membership.   All of those making promises are people who have become part of the life and worship around our building, and very much welcomed by the people who were already here.

To conclude the celebrations one of those making their profession asked me to mark the back of her birth certificate with her profession of faith date.   How humbling to complete the cycle of promises made over 40 years ago!.

A full service was brought to an end with an opportunity to drink tea and eat mince pies - during which I discovered there are three baptisms to open the new year with, as well as those who are thinking of ways that they can better serve the congregaion by giving a little more of their time.

With still two Sundays of the year to go, I feel very blessed at the good year I have enjoyed here, and look forward to marking God's love amongst within the next fortnight.