Matthew | Like a scandal

God demands Joseph wake to a deeper reality, where love takes priority over obedience to God’s law, and scandal forms the womb of grace. (Listen.)

Luke | Promises, paradise, and the vastness of love

Luke's joyful gospel provides a powerful antidote to the forces which seek to scapegoat the vulnerable.

Read here or listen to an older version here.

Luke | Not even #humble

Competitive faithfulness has no place in God’s kingdom; instead, it’s all about love. 

Read here or listen here.

Jeremiah | Our fickleness, God's faithfulness

Who among us has never broken covenant? Who among us has been always and entirely faithful in thought, word and deed to family, to friend, to spouse, and to God? If this is you, stop reading now. For everyone else, a word of hope from Jeremiah. Read here, or listen here.

Revelation | God's final 'Yes!'

To the marriage of heaven and earth, all are invited: and the invitations never stop coming. Like the letters from Hogwarts to Harry, the deckle edge cards are flowing through the letterbox, pouring down the chimney, pattering against the window and sliding under the door. We find the invitations tucked into our hunger for a bigger story, our yearning to belong, our thirst for healing; there’s one in the hand of every person who asks for a cup of cold water ... (PS: There's no fiery hell.)

Read here or listen here.

But he was still hungry ...

"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

Read here or listen here.

Presence bathed the room with love

Who among us hasn’t said something like: God, show me your plan. Tell me what I’m supposed to be doing here. I need clear guidance, a proper sign. Not some mimsy-wimsy spiritual hint, but something solid, something real. Otherwise, how will I know that you’re even with me? And how will anyone else know?

Read here or listen here.

In the wilderness of 2020, God keeps providing

The ancient story of a wilderness-wandering people invites us to ponder how God sustains us during shutdown. Read here or listen here.

Sheepish goats and the scandal of grace

As is the way of things, whenever I meet middle class people, they ask me what I do for a living. When I say I’m a pastor, they almost invariably reply, “Oh, I don’t go to church—but I’m a good person!” And I think to myself, “Good on ya!” Because the older I get, the more certain I become that every single one of us has an incredible capacity for good—and an incredible capacity for evil ...

Read here, or listen here.

Prayer, Pride and Prejudice

As Jane Austen didn’t quite say, “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in possession of a good fortune … needs absolutely nothing from God.” ...

Read here, or listen here.

Cut to the Heart

The Ethiopian eunuch is cut off in every way. A precious part of him has been sliced off, and this loss defines him: for we do not know his name. Instead, we just know that he is a eunuch. And as a eunuch, he has been cut off from having children, and from establishing a family line. He is an Ethiopian, a Gentile. Even so, something in Judaism has attracted him: perhaps from the Isaiah scroll which he studies so carefully in his chariot. Perhaps it is the promise from Isaiah 56, that God’s heart extends to the eunuch and the foreigner; that they, too, may become members of the covenant. And perhaps with this promise ringing in his ears, the Ethiopian eunuch travels to Jerusalem to worship ... Read here, or listen here.

A reflection on Acts 8:26-40 and Isaiah 56, with allusion to John 15:1-8, given to Sanctuary, 29 April 2018 (B36) © Alison Sampson, 2018. Image shows The Baptism of the Eunuch by Rembrandt (Public Domain).

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.

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.

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.

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:

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.

Christian Family Values

A particularly gorgeous Holy Family, from The Nativity by Julie Vivas

I was pottering around a local op shop last week; and while I was there, I overheard some pretty strong affirmations of Christian family values. It was clear to those chatting that, if we all lived like Christians, things would be a whole lot better than they are now. Families would stay together; kids would be properly disciplined; and no one would be on the dole.

Scandal!

See Robert Lentz talk about this icon here.

If you identify as Christian, tonight’s reading quite possibly made you angry—and I’m warning you now, this sermon might make you furious! For like the older brother in the Prodigal Son, many of us Christians find God’s generosity a bit hard to stomach. What on earth am I talking about? 

Well, as we just heard, Jesus is crucified between two criminals. One mocks him; the other acknowledges his own sinfulness and asks Jesus to remember him. Jesus replies, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” And what we hear is that one criminal died mocking and implicitly condemned; the other, having acknowledged his sin, died forgiven and was guaranteed a place in heaven. In other words, this second man never even gets to the field, let alone works a full day; and yet he receives the full reward. So the text has generated a lot of writing and a lot of sermons about Jesus’ scandalous act of forgiveness, since he forgave even the hardened criminal who, at the eleventh hour and while dying an excruciating death, turned to Jesus. Such forgiveness is certainly scandalous. But if we look closely, we might discover that it’s a lot more scandalous than that.