I was feeling despondent so I went for a walk when I came across a flock of red-browed finches. They were darting back and forth across the path, cheeping merrily at each other. And they said to me, ‘Learn from us! Look how happy we are in our little flock, flitting between sun and shade.’ And I said, ‘But where is my little flock? I don’t know anymore. And I seem to be stuck in the shadows.’ Read here or listen here.
My mother loved beautiful clothes. She wore designer silk dresses and an embroidered purple velvet kaftan; she tripped around in Spanish platform sandals. But perhaps her most precious garment was a simple blue bomber jacket, given to her by some Cambodian widows ... Not your usual Mothers Day sermon, perhaps (surprise surprise) - tonight, from Sanctuary. Read here or listen here.
The triumphal entry aka Palm Sunday. Disciples praise his deeds of power and sing of peace; but Jesus? Well, Jesus weeps.
"On the fifth day, the Second One was given schools of mullet to swim through the bay, and long dark kooyang to leap up the falls. Flocks of corellas caroused through the sky and yellow tailed black cockatoos called out. Spotted pardalotes filled the karrang, and cormorants perched, airing their wings. The waters and skies were filled with life: but he was still hungry ..." A mashed up re-telling of a few old stories. Told tonight on Peek Wurrung country, Eastern Maar nation
To a world torn apart by violence, Jesus offers himself as a ... mother hen?!
*If.* It’s a very small word with a very big weight, and I hear it all the time. If only I prayed hard enough … If I were a good enough Christian … If I read my Bible more … If I just tried harder … If I really trusted God … How many times have I heard some iteration of this, sometimes from the people I listen to, sometimes within my own head?
