Sunday, December 17, 2017

Prepare the Way: But how?

Advent is a prophetic call to go to the margins, and serve. Tonight's reflection from Sanctuary is available online here.

Sunday, November 19, 2017

The Billionaire, the Stockbroker, and the Story Teller

Parables are like puzzle boxes. There are no easy answers, no straight readings. You can take a parable in several directions: how you interpret it depends on your faith community, your social location, your Biblical knowledge, your image of God, a good dose of the Holy Spirit, and—let’s be honest!—your mood. Now, most of you will have heard spiritual interpretations of the parable of the talents. In such a reading, those Christians who don’t use their money, time, gifts, and abilities to advance the kingdom of heaven will face God’s anger and judgement. But it’s interesting that nothing in the story says that the angry boss is God. So let’s swap the lens from spiritual to economic, and assume that Jesus meant the talents literally. A talent was a colossal unit of money, over a million dollars today: how might knowing this affect the reading? Listen as I riff on the story, and re-tell it in a modern context. Perhaps it will lead to a different place. And if it does, then, like all good parables, where you go from that place is up to you. So make yourself comfortable: it’s time for a story ... Read more here, or listen here.

A riff on Matthew 25:14-30 by Alison Sampson, Sanctuary, 19 November 2017 (AP28). Picture courtesy Winkelman, Roy. European Banknote Montage. 2 December 2011. ClipPix ETC. Retrieved November 19, 2017, from (detail).

Monday, November 13, 2017

It's You!

Listen here.

A person knocks on a door. A voice calls from within, “Who is it?” The person says, “It’s your servant.” The voice says, “There’s no one here.”

The person goes away, wandering and wondering, working and thinking and talking and praying and sleeping and playing and dreaming, as you do. A year goes by, and they return. They knock at the door. A voice calls from within, “Who is it?” The person says, “It’s your sibling.” The voice says, “There’s no one here.”

The person goes away, wandering and wondering, working and thinking and talking and praying and sleeping and playing and dreaming, as you do. A year goes by, and they return. They knock at the door. A voice calls from within, “Who is it?” The person says, “It’s You.” The door swings open.

What if we have already been given every spiritual resource we need? What if we can be so transformed by Christ that, when he looks into our eyes, he sees himself? What if it is up to each of us to open the door?


This was a lectio divina Sunday, when there is no formal sermon; instead, we ponder the text together. The text was Matthew 25:1-13: The wise and foolish bridesmaids. I finished by sharing this Zen-like story, adapted from John Shea The Spiritual Wisdom of the Gospels for Christian Preachers and Teachers. Year A. On Earth as it is in Heaven. (Collegeville, MN: Order of Saint Benedict, 2004). The image is by Phoebe Anna Traquair – Own work Stephencdickson, CC BY-SA 4.0,

Sunday, November 5, 2017

The Liturgy and the People of God

Several months ago, we heard the story of two disciples walking away from Jerusalem. Jesus had been killed, and they were fleeing the city, full of doubt and fear. There on the road to Emmaus they met a stranger. They told him everything that had happened, and he explained the Scriptures to them. Then, as they ate together, they recognised the Risen Christ. I remind you of this because, early last year, when I was visiting and observing you all, what I saw were a lot of tired, doubting adults walking away from church ... Read more here, or listen here.

(Image shows Communion by He Qi.)

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

The Wife and the Writer's Life

Five hundred years ago today, Martin Luther is supposed to have nailed his 95 theses to the door of the Wittenburg Castle Church, an act which helped catalyse the Reformation. Thinking about Martin and his wife, Kate, I wrote the following piece for Zadok Perspectives No. 134 during a very busy summer!


So I got an email asking if I could whip up a column on Martin Luther or maybe his wife Kate sometime in the next week, and I’d love to. I’d love to tell you about the time we went to Lutherstadt-Wittenburg and toured the church and their home. I’d love to tell you about how Martin spent the first three hours of every day in his study wrestling with God and praying before he got down to work—but the washing machine is trilling to say that the next load is ready to be hung on the line, a kid has just come into the study needing her mum, and I don’t have the time.

For I am Kate: the household manager. The Luther household was large, overflowing with children and visitors and servants and paying guests. And Kate made sure that the bread was baked and the meals were cooked and the beds were made and the children were taught and the vegetables were harvested and the beer was brewed. I’d love to tell you more about her, but it’s summer holidays, I live near the ocean, and I’ve had a constant stream of guests. In the last four weeks I’ve cooked over 300 dinners, and made breakfasts and lunches too. I’ve washed countless dishes and sheets and towels, swept and mopped the floors, talked to the plumber and other tradies, and paid the bills, even as I’ve spent time with visiting family and friends. But unlike Kate, I don’t have servants: no cook, no laundress, no maid, no farmhand, no gardener. Instead, I have my husband and me, and what I can wheedle, bully and cajole out of the kids. Yet my husband works in Melbourne and is away three days a week; the kids sometimes refuse their chores: much of the work is done by me.

Because it’s summer, I’ve also spent hours with the kids at the beach. And because I am not just a household manager, but also the sole pastor of a new congregation in a smallish city, I keep bumping into parishioners and others who access me in my role, and so, while standing around in my bathing suit, I’ve had conversations about grace and judgement and calling and forgiveness, and Jesus’ teaching on possessions. And then after I’ve listened and maybe spoken a word of hope or comfort or truth, they say to me, “Are you having a nice holiday?” and it’s true I’m in my bathers but I wonder what on earth they think I’m doing as I take what I hear, pray, read the Word, and prepare the next sermon that will shake them out of their complacency, or make them weep with gratitude and relief. For I’m also Martin: called to wrestle with God and preach and write, and proclaim God’s hospitality in word and deed. Unlike him, however, I don’t have a wife or three hours of solitude every day. Instead, I pray on foot as I slip out alone to the shops and plan the next round of meals. I’d tell you more about it, only I don’t have the time.

The Luthers paved the way for churches like ours, which keep an open table and have visitors every week; people who ask “What is prayer?” and “Who is Jesus?” and “Why do you do this weird ritual meal anyway?” even as they eat the bread and drink the wine and proclaim the mystery of our faith. They come, I think, because I am both Martin and Kate: the professional and the home maker: the writer and the cook. They read the sermons and eat the dinners because they are hungry: hungry for a people to eat with, hungry for a people to belong to, hungry for a shared narrative that is bigger and more generous than any other way of life. And this hunger is so great, and the eating is so central, that I’d love to find where Martin said, “If the good Lord sees fit to provide a nice, fat pike and a dry Rhine Riesling, then I see fit to eat and drink,” only it’s getting on to five and there are guests in the house. It’s time to turn on the oven, open a bottle of wine, put out crackers and dips, and cook dinner, so that this evening the people I love—the man I married, the children I birthed, the friends and parishioners and acquaintances I listen to, pray for, and talk, laugh and weep with—may, through the hospitality we provide in the name of Christ, come to the table and be fed.

Jesus promised that, when we follow him, we will find life in abundance; and life is certainly abundant in this wonderful, overflowing, crazy season of summer. In a couple of weeks, the visitors will go home, the kids will be back at school, my husband will be in Melbourne, and the house will be quiet. Then, I will sit in my study in solitude and silence, and then, I will find time to write.

Sunday, October 29, 2017

The Great Leader and the Gravedigger

Here we are, at the end of Moses’ epic journey. He has led the people out of Egypt, through the desert, across the Red Sea; he has brought them out of slavery, and turned them away from idol worship and towards God; no one has ever shown such mighty power or performed such awesome deeds; he is the greatest prophet the world has ever known; and the promised land is in sight. If this were an ordinary story, we all know what would happen next: a red carpet unfurling, trumpets ringing out, and Moses riding a white stallion as he leads the people in triumph into the land. Except, this is no ordinary story. Instead, Moses encounters a gravedigger.

Read more here, or listen here. Image shows a detail from an image found here.

Monday, October 23, 2017

The Beautiful Backside of God

Yet again, our government has shown itself to be anti-Biblical: for mooning has been made explicitly illegal in the State of Victoria. From the first of July, anyone who pulls down their dacks and bares their bum in public risks two months in jail; if they do it again, they risk six months. And so a great Judaeo-Christian tradition has been outlawed. For, as we just heard, when Moses begs to see God’s face, God refuses. Instead, God announces that God will tuck Moses into a gap in the rock and cover him while God’s glory passes by. Then, when it is safe, God will remove the holy hand and Moses will see the marvellous moon, the beautiful backside of God. Most translations gloss over this glorious glimpse: but mooning is precisely what God does. And yet it has now been made illegal. So much for freedom of religious expression ...

Continue reading here, or listen here.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

Bread in a Time of Hunger

Even if we feel like we’re wandering aimlessly; even if we’re grumbling; even if we’re longing for the old ways, we must remember: these feelings have precedent. The people of God have been here before...

Read here, or listen here.

Sunday, September 17, 2017

Dry Paths through Seas of Chaos

These are desperate times in which violence is a deep, ever-present, and continuing reality, which affects every person, and all life, on earth ...

Tonight's reflection for Sanctuary is now online. Read it here, or listen here.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Walk like an Egyptian ... Into the Promised Land

As privileged people, we can’t simply claim the story of the Exodus without reflection, repentance, and concrete response. But if we are willing to hear God’s grief and anger at the suffering of the poor; if we are willing to acknowledge the horrors of our past; if we are willing to engage with the violence of our present, then we can move towards a different future.

A reflection on the plagues of Egypt is now online. Listen here, or read here.

Sunday, August 27, 2017

A Passion for Life

Tonight's story is often called “The Birth and Childhood of Moses”, or similar. We care about Moses, because he grew up to be the person who led God’s people out of slavery in Egypt. But in this story, Moses is just a baby, with no special qualities; it’s the women who are interesting. The midwives disobey and mock Pharaoh. Moses’ mother marries, conceives, labours, hides the baby, builds the ark, places him in it, and finally nurses him again. His sister stands, watches, suggests, runs and arranges; Pharaoh’s daughter walks, sees, opens, pities and names. Moses is passive: things happen to him. But these women are active. They all embrace God’s passion for life so wholeheartedly that they defy Pharaoh and the powers of empire: and they act...

A reflection bouncing off Exodus 1:8-2:10 by Alison Sampson, Sanctuary, 27 August 2017 (AP16), is now available online. Listen here, or read here.

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Bread and Stories, and the Transforming Power of Love

Next week, we will reconstitute our congregation for the coming year. So what does it look like here? Tonight's reflection on Genesis 45:1-15 is now available to read here, or listen here.

Sunday, August 13, 2017

Imperial Economics and the Economy of God

Jacob and his sons struggled to understand God’s economy. Jacob’s love for Joseph should have deepened his love for everyone, but it didn’t; instead, it led to a corrosive favouritism. Joseph’s brothers could have delighted in Joseph’s blessings and trusted it would lead to blessings for them, but instead they let envy consume them, and conspired to destroy their brother. And Joseph himself gave up on God’s economy, as he moved from saving the people to consolidating and extending Pharaoh’s imperial power. Like Jacob, Joseph, and the rest, we too struggle against God’s economy, living as we do in the economy of limitless growth. And every day we make choices about which economy we live in ...

Tonight's reflection on Genesis 37:1-28 and beyond is now online. Listen here, or read here.

Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Smash the Patriarchy! The sin revealed through Jacob's wives

Leah and Rachel's relationship reveals the toxic effects of the patriarchy. So is the patriarchy God's will?

A reflection on Genesis 29:14b-30:24, 35:16-20 given to Sanctuary, 30 July 2017 (AP12). Listen here, or read it here.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

The God of Your Dreams

Many of us think blessing is a reward for good behaviour, but the story of Jacob paints a different picture of God.

A reflection on Genesis 28:10-22 given to Sanctuary on 23 July 2017. Listen here, or read it here.

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Blessed is the No-Good Trickster

Jacob was a trickster: a grabby liar who swindled his brother out of a blessing, and an inheritance. Yet God chose Jacob as the father of Israel; and through Jesus, you are invited into the family, too.

A retelling of Genesis 25:19-28:5 given to Sanctuary, 16 July 2017 (AP10). You can listen here, or read here.

Sunday, July 2, 2017

Alt*red State: A text of terror brings good news

The usual interpretation of the binding of Isaac is that God requires us to sacrifice everything, even, if asked, our own children. But could a contextual awareness provide a different and more life-giving reading?

Tonight's reflection on Genesis 22:1-14 is now available to read here, or to listen here. Given to Sanctuary, 2 July 2017 (AP08).

Sunday, June 25, 2017

Ishmael, Isaac, and the Shared Inheritance

God’s blessing is granted across human boundaries; God listens to ‘us’, yes, but also attends to the cry of every Muslim in detention who has limited access to water on a hot day; God hears the cry of every migrant to the South West who is culturally isolated, and lonely, and a very long way from their father’s house...

Tonight's reflection on Genesis 21:8-21 is now available to listen here, or to read here. Image shows a detail from Hagar in the Wilderness (Camille Corot, 1796-1875, here).

Sunday, June 18, 2017

Hope, love, and laughter

God is welcomed as a stranger. So what are the implications for us?

Tonight's reflection on Genesis 18:1-15, 21:1-7 from Sanctuary is available to read here, or listen here.

Image shows The Visit of the Three Angels, from Art in the Christian Tradition, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville, TN. [retrieved June 18, 2017]

Wounded and scarred - and here!

Some of you might remember a television program called ‘Yes, Minister!’, which took a satirical look at how government really worked. In one episode, a new hospital was awarded an efficiency prize. It was later discovered to have 500 administrators—and no patients! I was thinking about churches and Christian communities when I remembered this episode, for it is impossible to be seriously involved in a church or Christian community without coming up against the hassle of sick and wounded people. 
Read more here, or listen here
A reflection on Acts 1:1-11 by Alison Sampson, Sanctuary, 28 May 2017 (A38). Image shows a ward of the hospital at Scutari, where Florence Nightingale worked, found at

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Christ is risen - but where is he now?

Christ is risen! But where is he now?

Tonight's reflection on John 14:15-21, given to Sanctuary, is now available online. Read it here or listen here. Image shows 'Each Other' courtesy Michael Leunig.

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Our Fundamental Task: Forgiveness

What does it mean to forgive and retain sins? And is it an invitation to judge?

Tonight's reflection on John 20:19-23 given to Sanctuary is available online. Listen here, or read here.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Life on the Road

Emmaus by Emmanuel Garibay (2010)
Why do we gather each week? Why do we do the same things over and over: confess our sins, listen to the Scriptures, interpret them, and pray and eat together? What’s the point? Surely we can read about Jesus, and pray, and be Christians, all alone and on our own time? Surely we can encounter the Christ in everyday life, and notice, and give thanks?

You can listen to my answer here, or read it here
Reflection on Luke 24:13-35 given to Sanctuary on 30 April 2017.

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Waiting for the Liberator

Make yourself comfortable, and give yourself time to ponder the images and questions here. A meditation on Matthew 21:1-11 for Palm Sunday, 2017. You can also listen here.
One day, he will come. He will enter the city in triumph, and free the people from the occupying forces. Maybe he’ll be wearing a thick leather jerkin, and riding a battle horse. Maybe he’ll have a sword at his side. Maybe he’ll bring an army of rebels, ready to raise hell and throw out the oppressors: self-serving politicians, rapacious business owners, corrupt bureaucrats, mercenary soldiers, powerful predators, those who place profits before people, those who stay silent in the face of violence. Keep reading here.

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

In praise of chat

I have a couple weeks off, plus we finally have a separate website for the church: it's time to reclaim this site as my blog. And so I’m trying to remember what I like to write about when I don’t have sermons or essays due. As I rootled around the files, I found a Psalm I wrote awhile back which really resonated, perhaps because, with fewer friends and a husband away half the time, life in this new city can be a bit lonely. A slightly different version first appeared in Zadok Perspectives No. 129 (December 2015).
How right it is to sit with friend and cup of tea.
How precious to see a hint of glee in her eye, or glint of tears,
or small frown as she encounters new ideas.
How fine to hear voices joined in laughter!
How healing the gentle silence which falls,
grants grace, after story strange and sad.
How good to chat as children roam house, raid biscuit tin;
as teens and husbands wander in,
settle at table, join the exchange.
Praise the One who gives tongues to talk,
minds to think, wit to play!
Praise the One from whom stories flow,
blessings grow, and songs take flight!
Whose words wrought worlds,
whose love begets love,
who seeks conversation between us, and Above.

Sunday, March 19, 2017

The King of Hearts meets the Queen of Tarts

You can listen to this reflection here.

She has three strikes against her. One, she is female. No religiously correct man would let himself be caught alone with a strange woman; he certainly wouldn’t be chatting with her. Two, she is a Samaritan. Jews and Samaritans don’t mix; and they certainly don’t eat or drink together. Three, she’s had five husbands, and now she’s with a man she is not even married to. She’s hot stuff; her reputation is shot. Other women go to the well at dawn and at dusk. They go in groups, to stay safe; and as they walk and draw water, they share the news of the day. She goes at noon. She avoids the other women: the stares and the gossip, the snippy comments and the icy silences. She goes alone. 

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Angry judge, or the face of love? God revealed on the mountaintop

(You can listen to this reflection here.)

How we hear stories about Jesus depends very much on our image of God. I was thinking about this because, in our conversation last week about the prayers of confession, several people said that they felt, or had been taught, that God was just waiting to judge them. The image of God as a harsh and violent judge is pervasive, and it shapes us. Like the disciples who go with Jesus up the mountain, many of us hold onto this idea, even although it may not be quite right. For this image of God comes, in part, from an older story, a story which predates Jesus. A story that also involves a mountain. Let me tell it to you:

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Do Not Worry: Stepping through an ethical minefield with Jesus

Do not worry about your food! Payment in kind.
It may not buy school uniforms, but it does feed the family.
Before we moved to Warrnambool, we lived in an area of Melbourne which was a hive of ethical activity. Our clothes were locally made or from the op shop. We rode our bikes to buy direct trade coffee, then ducked into organic wholefoods for some ethical groceries. What we couldn’t buy there, we’d get at the IGA, after checking each company against our sustainable supermarket guide. We grew our greens and herbs; experimented with Community Supported Agriculture, but got sick of all those potatoes; so opted into a local veggie box instead. Our honey came from local hives; our socks were made in Brunswick; we purchased gifts from local artisans; our furniture was second hand. Even our house renovation appeared in a green architecture magazine. There were times when we were so ethical, it makes me sick. Of course, we lived this way because we were trying to be followers of Jesus—and because we were surrounded by people also seeking to live more sustainably, the critical mass made it easy. But every now and then, or maybe quite a lot, I’d feel someone, probably me, rolling her eyes because a coffee wasn’t fair, or a chair was from IKEA, or the eggs were from battery hens—and I’d wonder if I’d missed the point.

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Love who?!

The Second Mile. This incredibly confronting image
was found at
Once upon a time, I was sitting in a class at the theological college when the concept of ‘love your enemy’ came up. The pastor of a large church became annoyed and said, “I’ve got no idea why we waste time talking about this. We’re Christians—we have no enemies!” His comment revealed what is actually a fairly common idea: Those of us who are not actively oppressed by a violent regime, and who work very hard to be nice, often think we love everyone. But is this true? And can we throw the whole idea of loving our enemy out?

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

What Happens Next?

A reflection on Matthew 5:27-37, by Joel Rothman.
Given to Sanctuary, 12 February 2017.


When I was almost 12 years old I discovered a big thick novel called Magician, and from the moment I picked it up I couldn’t put it down. For 800 pages I was engrossed in a different world, a world of dragons and magic, fear and bravery, love and loss, and an epic adventure through a world very different to our own…And finally the threads of the story were tied together in a grand conclusion. From that time I was hooked. I read book after book, each opening up a different world. Each was similar to the last in many respects, and yet at the same time radically new. After Magician I was lost in The Wheel of Time, and Game of Thrones, the Shannara Chronicles and Lord of the Rings. Many of those books have now been made into movies or high-budget TV series, and you can see it on the screen. But back then I saw it all in my head.

More recently I’ve been exploring the idea of reading scripture the way I read these novels. What if we read scripture as a story? Can we see how this passage follows from the one before? Can we see how the narrative threads lead into the next? And the dialogues too. What if they aren’t just independent, philosophical dissertations – what if we read them as part of the story? Part of the dialogue between the characters in the story?

Sunday, January 29, 2017

The Honours List

Last week, the annual Australia Day Honours List was announced: a list of people recognised for their contribution to our nation. So it is timely that in tonight’s reading, Jesus gives us his own honours list: the people honoured for the way they embody and contribute to God’s culture. The Australia Day Honours List usually includes politicians, military officers, scientists, sports stars, charity workers, artists, businesspeople, and others. Who do we find on Jesus’ honours list? Well, as you can imagine, it’s a bit different.
First up on Jesus’ list are the people who have no sense of entitlement. We all know people with a strong sense of entitlement: they are arrogant and proud. They grab at everything, but they are never satisfied. On the other hand, those who know that life is a gift and that the world owes them nothing will be constantly delighted by God’s goodness, and always eager to share. And so of course they are honoured in God’s culture!
Next, we find people who enter into their grief. You might have noticed that those who shy away from their suffering become brittle and hard; but those who face up to their suffering learn much about themselves and others. They often discover God’s extraordinary comfort, and learn compassion, a compassion which they pour out on the world. Their compassion softens hearts all around them, and they are greatly loved—and they are honoured in God’s culture!
On Jesus’ list, we find people who engage in nonviolence, and who hunger and thirst for justice. For those who refuse to participate in the violence of the world align themselves with Jesus. They have caught a vision of a life greater than their own; this vision will give their own lives great meaning, and they will be deeply satisfied. And they are honoured in God’s culture!
We also find the contemplative, for they have turned their backs on the rat race, and opened their hearts and minds to the love of God. By taking the time to pray, and facing up to their own shadows, they see God’s face: and so they are honoured in God’s culture!
Of course, the people honoured by God are not the people most often honoured in our society. Some of the people on this year’s honours list might fit the bill, but many of our leaders do not. A quick flick through any newsfeed suggests that we usually value other qualities instead. Jesus honours the humble, the peacemaker, the compassionate and the just, but we seem to reward the arrogant, the wealthy, the hard-hearted and the corrupt, placing them into positions of leadership and remunerating them greatly. Yet too many of our leaders are bullies, braggarts and liars. Too many refuse genuine dialogue; they speak only to tear others down, build themselves up, and win political points. Too few show compassion; too few take responsibility for their actions; too few have a vision of a just world.
Next week, we will be choosing leaders for our congregation, and I hope it’s a no-brainer when I say that we are not looking for the arrogant and the proud! But what are we looking for? The book of Acts tells of a time when the early church needed to appoint people to positions of responsibility. The apostles decided not to select the new leaders themselves. Instead, they asked the congregation to choose from among them people of “good standing, full of the Spirit and wisdom” (Acts 6:3). Not people with a particular skill set, not the privileged, but those full of the Spirit and wisdom. If we are to follow their example, then our leaders should be chosen from among the regular attenders by the congregation; and they should be people who demonstrate the fruits of the Spirit, that is, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
These qualities are rarely seen among our public leaders, and they are often mocked—but they are what we are looking for here. For they require courage, and they lead straight to Jesus’ honours list. It takes courage to be good: to stand up for justice when doing so causes others to mock and even attack you; it takes courage to exercise self-control, and not fight back. It takes courage to relinquish privilege, and to live humbly. It takes courage to be vulnerable, and to do the hard work of grief. It takes courage to live authentically, rather than hide behind the shallow masks our society hands out. It takes courage to pray and face our shadows, rather than fill our days with busy-ness and clutter. Living courageously, living a wholehearted life, means walking through conflict, refusing to retaliate, being vulnerable, offering and accepting forgiveness, seeking freedom, living joyfully, and learning to love. We may not see these practices among many political or corporate leaders, but then, we’re engaged in a very different project: for we are called to model a different way to the society around us, a way that is shaped not by and for the privileged, but shaped by God’s culture and God’s heart for the world. 
Jesus tells his disciples that the kingdom of heaven, God’s reality, is very close, and is even now sending shoots and sparks into our world. Like yeast in the bread, like salt in the soup, God’s culture is what gives this world flavour and life—and we are the bearers of this culture. So let us all pray for the courage to open ourselves to the Spirit, that God’s culture might blossom among us, and bear much fruit. And next week, let us choose courageous people full of Spirit and wisdom, to lead us in the year to come. Ω
A reflection for Sanctuary, 29 January 2017, referring to the Beatitudes in Matthew. My paraphrase of the text is here.

Beatitudes: Matthew 5:1-12: A paraphrase

When Jesus saw the crowds which surrounded him, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:
“Honoured are those who have no sense of entitlement,
for God's culture is their culture.
 Honoured are those who grieve,
for they will be comforted.
 Honoured are the nonviolent,
for they will inherit the earth.
 Honoured are those who hunger and thirst for justice,
for they will be satisfied.
 Honoured are the compassionate,
for they will receive compassion.
 Honoured are the contemplative,
for they will encounter God.
 Honoured are the peacemakers,
for they will be called children of God.
 Honoured are those who are persecuted for justices sake,
for God's culture is their culture.
 Honoured are you when people revile you and persecute you and speak all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in God's reality, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Fishing for People: The Medium is the Message

Memorial to fishermen lost at sea, Newlyn, Cornwall.
Sculpture by Tom Leaper. Photo my own.
No matter how scary I try to look, what with my short hair, frown lines, and black clothes, I’m the person in the street everyone seems to approach. Sometimes, I’m asked for directions; sometimes, they want money or cigarettes; sometimes, I’m told a story. And sometimes, I’m asked if I’m saved. I used to answer, “it’s complicated”, but that opened up a whole conversation I didn’t want to have. Then I began saying “yes”—but I discovered that meant further questions to find out if I’m saved in the right way. I won’t tell you what I say now; but, it seems that, whatever I say, it’s almost impossible to shake such a questioner off.

So when I hear Jesus saying that he will make his disciples fish for people, I feel a bit queasy. It’s right up there with ‘go and make disciples of all nations’ when it comes to smelling fishy, because words like evangelism, proselytising, and making disciples are, for me, associated with feeling manipulated, coerced, bullied, and guilty. Worse, in the international sphere, mission is bound up with the violence of colonialism. Yet Jesus tells his disciples to spread the good news, so am I just being a cynic when I view mission this way? And if not, then where’s the problem?

Sunday, January 15, 2017

Anatomy of a Murder

Whodunnit? It’s the question asked of every murder mystery. Perhaps it’s Colonel Mustard in the kitchen with the lead piping; or maybe it’s Miss Scarlet in the dining room with the candlestick. But “whodunnit?” is not a question that is asked very often about the death of Jesus: either we don’t think about it, or we assume that we know. But if we take a closer look, we might find that the answer to “whodunnit?”, that is, who demanded Jesus’ death, is not exactly what we assume; yet whodunnit has enormous implications for our faith.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Dreamers and Truth Seekers


On Sunday, New Year's Day, Joel Rothman reflected on Revelation 21:1-6 and Revelation 22:1-6 at Sanctuary. Here is his terrific reflection:

Today is the start of a new year, a time when we think about the year that has been, and our dreams for tomorrow. And the text for today is from Revelation, John’s book of dreams. So let’s talk about dreams. The dreams of yesterday, and the dreams of tomorrow. 

I want to go back and consider the dreamers of the Christian tradition. There are many great dreamers in the Christian tradition, stretching in a great line from Jesus himself right down to our own times. But let’s begin our reflections at one particular point in time, with the dreams of Reverend Martin Luther King, a great dreamer of the twentieth century. 
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