Getting the juices going

It's a struggle this week to think of where to start with the sermon.

I've an idea to start with couthy, Fife phrases - thanks to Nik in August. I too have a "Little Book of Calvin", which while I find them amusing, for me carry too much resonance of familiarity. With Fife parentage, and a one-time charge in the area, I recognise these phrases as something people genuinely say.

Phrases like:
"If ye dinnae stop yir greetin, Eh'll gie ye something tae greet aboot"
"Dinnae complain. It's better than a skelp ower the fais wi a wet kipper."
"If it didnae hurt it wiznae worth doing"

Folk have said these things to me. Maybe not just my parents, but grandparents and congregation members.

These phrases all came flurrying to mind along with others as I read the Lectionary texts this week. In thinking about why, it is the sheer honesty of what the Scriptures offer the reader this week.

In Proverbs, these three sets of words are combined because they share the thought of valuing others and generosity above the love of wealth. While in the Gospel we are challenged with the honesty of women in her encounter with Jesus. As part of God's wonderful creation, how can their not be a place for her. Then finally in James, there is the reminder that Christian faith is inclusive and honest.

One of my frustrations about my present congregation is the lack of honesty - not that they are deceitful. But it is difficult to know what they are thinking, where they feel God is leading them, how they want to live out their Christian faith in our community. These are tough questions to answer I know. However sometimes I long for some good Fife honesty - a slap in the face with a wet kipper - that gets straight to the point, lets you know where you are, and then you get on with the task that the people of God have set for you.

Big fearty that I am, there's probably not a chance I'm going to say tomorrow morning "Stop hiding behind you mask of societal norms for this area", but I can dream. Hmmm... where to start...

Bread

While I'm returning to a theme of an earlier blog, in preaching this summer it will be the first time I've looked at the "Bread of Life" motif that runs through the Gospel of John over a number of weeks of lectionary readings. I've carefully been trying to avoid it, given that it arises most summers and I'm sure in the x number of years I've been here I've probably bored them to tears on more than one occasion.

However this week, I'm taking the issue head on and am thinking that I want to talk about how the bread we use in communion says something about what we have as an understanding of Jesus and then picking up on the Ephesians reading want to talk about being "imitators" of that bread. I know it will make more sense once I get going.

But just for starters, what kind of bread do you like in communion?
- A stiff little wafer - sometimes sticks to the roof of your mouth and is difficult to swallow.
- a stale cubed piece of bread - in a plate where every one's fingers have shuffled to grab the hopefully little piece that doesn't taste so bad.
- or a freshly torn piece, of freshly baked doughy, seedy bread - something that tempts the palate, and speaks of the abundance of God.

Of course I'm highlighting my preference, but has our choice of communion bread hastened what we think and understand of God? In choosing the smaller, easier to prepare and find options, we are perhaps missing the significance of what Jesus means when he says "I am the bread of life". I imagine that bread to be chunky, freshly made, and filling. Sometimes the seeds can be tough to chew, but they give you food for thought, and don't allow you to hurry on to the next piece. Instead you discover how filling the bread is, and how much you need to share it with others.

Thinking ahead

Although I'm not officially back from holiday until tomorrow, I've taken the opportunity to get started on preparations for the weekend and beyond.

Spotting that the Funeral Director had attempted to phone yesterday afternoon and knowing that the person who is covering for me heads off on holiday tomorrow, I rang first thing to see if there had been a decision about when a funeral might take place and who was doing it. It turns out to be a slightly more distressing parish funeral, with the deceased having died on holiday abroad, so much of the planning is still in the early stages and won't be confirmed until the beginning of next week. However the day and time are provisionally set, and in the middle of B&Q this afternoon I set things in motion for something over a week away. In the meantime though I suspect that an early visit to the family over the weekend may be in order.

Having phoned the Funeral Director and set about my troublesome computer (it's only a year old), I looked at files of past baby blessings and finished putting together the order for this Saturday's. It's not something I do particularly often and have only ever been asked to do since coming to this charge. My first was for the family I revisit this weekend. They played a big part in the original wording and thoughts, and that order has changed as I've reflected upon the practice and purpose of such a ceremony. Fortunately my Kirk Session are supportive of this development, seeing it as an opportunity to touch lives of those more reluctant to commit fully to Christian faith. One or two of them usually accompany me to offer a church presence, and always find they are well received and invited to visit again. I await the parents' comments on the order as it has changed from their last child, and am hoping for a positive response as our two understandings of faith collide.

The hymns for both the services on Sunday are picked, and I'm relatively happy with how the orders of service have shaped up. Our early all-age service has a game and some making activity that I'm hoping that even if my children are the only children present others might feel they would like to participate in. The second service is the more comfortable traditional format. In between the two I'm hoping to encourage people through to a hall for some tea or coffee and maybe a freshly made scone. We'll see how I feel at 8am on Sunday morning.

So the thoughts for the second service. Lectionary based, I've discovered I've got the fabulous choice of David and Bathsheba or the feeding of the 5000, or the power of prayer. I've picked my theme - "Something out of nothing" - and suspect I'm going with the two New Testament readings. For a number of reasons I'll give adultery a bye on this occasion. I would kind of like to do that with the feeding of 5000 as well. Comes up every summer - not surprising when it is in every Gospel - and there are only so many times you can steal the congregations sweeties. Instead I'm thinking about looking at the family motifs that are undercurrents within the Gospel and the Epistle.

Perhaps more tomorrow when I take a closer look at the texts.

Seeds

It's 1am on a Saturday morning and really I should be asleep, or at least reading my book. However I'm also conscious that I'm only at the very early stages of sermon preparation for Sunday. It's been like this a lot recently. Life has overtaken me, or the manse has just been too noisy to study. This week I've taken the opportunity to catch up on some visits.

So here I am thinking about how I'm going to get anything down on paper by Sunday. Tomorrow I have a coffee morning and then lunch with some friends - so hopefully by mid-afternoon/early evening I might return to my desk to put together something. Although it might be nice to spend some time with the family as well.

The Lectionary suggests horticultural themes, and at the very least the planting of seeds and ignoring them.

I'm always relieved in reality what a great gardener the Creator is, because I'm useless. I have no ideas about where things should really be planted in the garden - whether in light or shade. I can't quite get the spacing right, and at the moment various areas of our garden look like a rambling mix of greenery and flowers, rather than the lush oasis of calm I was hoping for. Yet magically throughout the year fruit appears on various, plants, bushes and trees and we eat our fill and marvel at the fresh tasting delight. Flowers appear, and when we visit friends small posies of garden flowers are welcome gifts from children. The grass grows, and an area for play and rest appears below our feet to offer comfort.

Every so often I pretend to make an effort of genuine care for the garden. Weeds get pulled. Bushes pruned. Someone else cuts the grass. I wander about with a hose looking purposeful. Our kitchen waste is carefully recycled to produce bins full of compost. But I know in my heart of hearts that I do very little for the wonders that appear for ear, eye, hand and tongue.

Is that the simplicity of what the parable tells us this week? (Mark 4: 26 - 34) Don't worry about how the seeds of faith are scattered. Don't panic if you don't spend every minute tending those seeds until they come to fruit. All these things are in the hands of the Gardener. We're just the hired hands - the passing birds - the seed cases. We scatter widely. But God tends, waters, prunes, and brings to being the full blown plant.

Mmmm...perhaps a little too simple?

But some notes to get me thinking before the task of writing tomorrow.