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Thought for the Day 

Monday 19

Psalm 23.1 “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.”

The first word is the name of God, the one who promised to be the faithful guide and strong protector of Israel. And it’s personal, because the Lord is my Shepherd; he knows your name, your face and your heart. In Scripture the shepherd is often to illustrate God’s strength, care and always promised presence. The Lord is the Shepherd of the ninety nine, and the one who is in trouble. 

Tuesday 20

Psalm 23.2 “He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul.”

There is both tenderness and toughness in the shepherd who knows how to look after sheep. Rest and nourishment are needed to keep the body healthy; but the Shepherd of our souls cares for our whole being. Sometimes our inner spirit is frayed, and our heart is weary. The Lord, our Shepherd looks after us, providing the nourishment of his Word, inviting us into the stillness of prayer, and the ministry of the soul-restoring Holy Spirit.

Wednesday 21 

Psalm 23.3 “He guides me in paths of righteousness, for his name’s sake.”

This Psalm is about God taking initiatives. “He makes me lie down…he leads…he restores…he guides.” God leads us in right paths. Sometimes we might think we know better, but God knows the future, as well as our past and present. He will bring us to the right place. God’s name is true and his promise is faithful, and for his name’s sake he will go ahead of us, guide us and be there with us and for us.

Thursday 22

Psalm 23.4 “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Faith sometimes has a note of defiance. “Even though, no matter what, I will fear no evil…” Fear isn’t a choice; sometimes we are afraid, scared and anxious. Faith is not the absence of fear, it is the movement of the heart turning from whatever we fear, to the God we have learned to trust no matter what. Even though life becomes scary, God is still there, “you are with me”. Comfort is the sense of being surrounded by a strength greater than our own. “The Lord is my Shepherd…..you are with me.”

Friday 23

Psalm 23 5 “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows.”

This is God as host, the hospitable God who provides rest, friendship, food and his own presence. To anoint the head is a sign of honour and welcome. The table is laden, the cup is never empty. We are shepherded to the best seat, at the best table, to eat the best food. In the presence of all in life that threatens us, God sets a table, and anoints us with the Spirit. Think of bread broken, and wine poured out, Christ’s presence and the communion of saints.

Saturday

Psalm 23.6 “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” 

The Shepherd goes ahead, leads, guides, protects and looks after the sheep. The Psalm finishes by saying that all the way we have travelled we have been followed, by goodness and mercy. God’s blessings are often most clearly understood when we stop and look back the road we have come. Then, looking forward, the confident hope that “in my Father’s house are many dwelling places”, and one of them has our name on it.

Sunday

Revelation 7.17 “For the Lamb at the centre of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Psalm 23, and this verse are often sung or read at a funeral service. There’s a reason for that. Sometimes we need pictures and memories to express our faith in the hard to describe grace, love and mercy of God. The Lord is our Shepherd, Jesus is the Good Shepherd. Through Christ we come to springs of living water, springing up to eternal life. The image of God wiping away tears is one of the most tender verses in the whole Bible. The Lord of all creation moved by the tears of his creatures.

We've all had to find our own ways of coping with a restricted way of life while we co-exist with Covid 19. Apparently lots of folk have been tuning in to Bob Ross, the American painter, instructor and television host on his own programme, The Joy of Painting. It helps them sleep during the anxieties of daily life that have become everyday experience for all of us, they say. If you've never watched him, he can be found on BBC 4 IPlayer and there are dozens of programmes.

His soft playful voice, gentle enthusiasm, conversational style, make watching him at work a form of therapy for the imagination. Even the titles, often in unapologetic clichés,  sound like an invitation to somewhere not far from Eden: Twilight Meadow, Bubbling Brook, Winter Stillness, Cabin in the Woods, Lazy River. But nearly all of his paintings have trees; foreground, background, on horizons, up close, forests of fir trees, dominant, solitary majestic pines, unobtrusive thickets, low hanging branches over lakes and streams – all over the place, trees. This is the man whose words became a meme, “There is nothing wrong with having a tree as a friend.” I agree. Wholeheartedly. Without reserve. 

I don't paint, at least not with oil, acrylic or watercolour. If mixing and working stranded cotton counts, then I paint in textiles. But I do take photographs, and amongst my favourite subjects are trees. During these past months we have done a forest walk most days. The paths, the trees, the flora, lately the fungi, the wildlife, all have been sources of healing and quietening. But the trees? They have become familiar companions, known faces, and we have enjoyed them through early spring, summer, and now well into autumn. 

Trees are a big deal in the Bible. From the Tree of Life to the avenues of trees in the Holy City, whose leaves are for the healing of the nations. My favourite prophet, Deutero-Isaiah,had a soft spot for trees. There is that word painting of nature's loud applause of the Creator at the end of chapter 55:

You will go out in joy
    and be led forth in peace;
the mountains and hills
    will burst into song before you,
and all the trees of the field
    will clap their hands.
   Instead of the thornbush will grow the cypress,
    and instead of briers the myrtle will grow.
This will be for the Lord’s renown,
    for an everlasting sign,
    that will endure forever.” 

Walking along the banks of the River Dee yesterday, these trees were applauding in colour. Isaiah 55 is a chapter deeply rooted in faith and hope, faith in the God of new beginnings, and hope that the prophet and people will be part of that new thing which God will do. That phrase, "Instead of" is a summons to comparisons. Instead of this, that!  Instead of the wounding scrubby thornbush, the elegant tall cypress; instead of tearing briars, the beautiful myrtle, its flowers and leaves used by brides and in victory parades. Isaiah is anticipating the reversal of the curse and the fall, when God renews the earth and the whole creation rejoices and bursts into applause.

Going back to people who have found some solace and quietening in watching Bob Ross painting, it isn't difficult to imagine the sheer tedium of chronic anxiety, and for many the slow erosion of emotional nutrients as we all try to cope with distancing, face coverings, and the prohibitions on gathering together for mutual comfort, support and companionship. Isaiah's words are a promised interruption to the tedium, and a confident looking forward to the shared rejoicing of those who may now be near despair. The words that come before the promise of applauding trees are the words from which faith springs and hope flourishes:

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.
 As the rain and the snow
    come down from heaven,
and do not return to it
    without watering the earth
and making it bud and flourish,
    so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
 so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
    It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
    and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.

The uncertainty and widespread suffering caused by Covid 19 has taken a huge toll across our world. There is no end in sight and while there are many reasons to be hopeful, and much that encourages us in the kindness, cleverness and commitment of all kinds of people, it's clear that life will not be back to normal any time soon.

Isaiah, and his love of trees, is a contrary voice to those inner anxieties and persistently negative voices that are in danger of undermining our faith and our hope. We will rejoice together again. Our thoughts are always limited, often self-concerned, and understandably preoccupied with those corrosively worrying what ifs. God's thoughts are different. There is a heaven of difference between God's thoughts and ours, between God's words and our speechless fears. God's promises are made in words, and his words don't bounce back empty – they accomplish and achieve God's purposes.

These trees I have come to know as signposts on our walks. One day they, or their seeds some time down the years, will clap their hands at the surprising joyfulness that surges through a creation being made new. The cypress will point the way, and the myrtle will clothe the roadsides with the flowers and foliage of a cosmic celebration. Sometimes, just sometimes, theology requires imagination unplugged. That's how hope is sustained, by thinking the previously unthinkable, and by a vision as ludicrously hopeful and Godlike as trees applauding a world made new.  

(Pastoral Letter to our Church Community in Montrose)

Dear Friends,

During my time as a student in the 1970’s at the Baptist Theological College of Scotland (as it was called then), the Principal was the Rev R E O White. From him I learned so much. The best teachers are those who teach us to think for ourselves, and who model what they teach. REO was a demanding teacher, and sometimes assumed we knew more than we did. But those who sat under his teaching learned the importance of argument, evidence, organised thought, and a willingness to follow truth wherever it led. That meant too, careful and reverent study of the biblical text, learning to think and act pastorally, with humour and humanity, as one who, in following Christ will care for Christ’s people with the love and humility of the Servant Christ.

Every day at College started with prayers led by each of the students on a rota basis. Mr White always sat behind the lectern, his face visible to the class but not to the one leading the prayers. One morning I chose to read from Psalm 119. I knew the passage well, but I didn’t pay attention to the verses that followed my text. I read out to the class: “O how I love your law, I meditate on it all day long” (v 97) This was my text for the day. But I thought I would read the verses before and after – and then, committed to reading my announced passage, I read v 99 to the class, “I have more wisdom and insight than all my teachers….” I was aware of the class looking at Mr White, whose shoulders had started shaking with hard to suppress merriment at the very thought!

I became friends with Mr and Mrs White when I left College, and visited them regularly. When years later I became College Principal he spoke to me with warmth and that same wise encouragement to grow into God’s calling. I reminded him of that morning, that text, and my embarrassment, and this time we both laughed. When Mr White died I spoke at his funeral on behalf of the College, and gave thanks to God that this man, of such wisdom and insight, had never stopped being my teacher.

These are times when as Christians we are perplexed and uncertain about the way the world is and the way the world is going. Wisdom and insight are at a premium. We are still in the full flow of a global pandemic which is disrupting all that has been familiar to us; we are right to be concerned about the political divisiveness in our own country, in the United States, and increasingly across Europe; every day the flow of refugees and the building pressures of migration challenge governments to act with justice and humanity; the growing inequalities between rich and poor likewise raises questions of justice and peace; and the inescapable consequences of climate change for our world threaten to overwhelm: these are huge challenges for humanity. They cannot but compel the church of Jesus Christ to reflect long and deeply about what God is saying through these events and movements in our times. 

More than ever, in our own Christian lives, and as a local gathering of Christ’s church, the words of James carry an important promise: “If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given him.”(James 1.5) Then there is that foundation text for wise living: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” (Proverbs 9.10) If we forget the Creator, we will neglect the creation, to our peril. If we despise other people made in God’s image, then we insult the One in whose image every human person is made. If economic gain is the goal and bottom line of life, then money and profit, not God, is our god. If division and conflict with others is the new way of politics, then what role the peacemaker and ambassador of Christ whose message is reconciliation?

Wisdom is the ability to look at the world as a God-loved world, into which Christ came and died and rose again, and to be a people of faith and faithfulness. Wisdom is to face honestly the enormous problems our world faces, and to pray with faith and hopefulness, “Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Wisdom is to know and believe the love of God, and to be agents of that love, inspired and energised by the love of Christ crucified and risen wherever God has placed us.

We are back to the three great virtues of Christian discipleship – faith in Christ and in the faithfulness of God; hope in the good news of Christ’s death for the sins of the world and his resurrection as the foundation of all hope in life and death; love as the eternal truth of who God is, and the final word God has spoken in Christ who, “while we were still sinners died for our sins”, “and not for ours only but for the sins of the whole world.”  (I John2.2)

Lo! the hosts of evil round us,
scorn thy Christ, assail his ways!
From the fears that long have bound us,
free our hearts to love and praise.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
for the living of these days.

Save us from weak resignation
to the evils we deplore;
let the search for thy salvation
be our glory evermore.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
serving thee whom we adore.

That was one of R E O White’s favourite hymns! Make it your prayer this week.

Your friend and pastor,   

Jim Gordon

I am not a lawyer. I am a concerned citizen, and someone committed to the common good. Below is a quotation from the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, a man who expects to be taken seriously as a political leader entrusted with the good governance of our country, the safety of our citizens, the upholding of the laws of the land as passed by Parliament, the stewardship and curatorship of our economy, and to act responsibly as the head of Government on behalf of the people, all the people. And this is what he says to his own Conservative Party members:

“We’re also backing those police up, protecting the public by changing the law to stop the early release of serious sexual and violent offenders and stopping the whole criminal justice system from being hamstrung by what the home secretary would doubtless – and rightly – call the lefty human rights lawyers, and other do-gooders.”

This is dangerous nonsense, and an abuse of the Office of Prime Minister, by the person currently entrusted with that Office. It is worth deconstructing this statement to expose the inner springs of its dangerous rhetoric.

The dog whistle phrases "backing the police up", "protecting the public". These are the rhetorical feel good promises and commendable goals. We all want the police to be supported and the public protected – but no mention of the massive cuts to police resources that have been imposed by this and previous Governments in the past decade. 

The focus on two already recognised categories of crime and their consequent social and legal issues. The public, and the Government recognise that there is a need to review and adjust current legislation and provisions around early release. But such changes require sophisticated and careful review by legal and judicial experts who should be properly resourced and engaged in producing appropriate legislation which addresses legitimate concerns.

"Stopping the whole criminal justice system from being hamstrung..." While these are serious crimes, and the early release of those who commit them must be examined and under constant review and scrutiny, it is not these cases that hamstring the criminal justice system. According to The Law Society it is gross under funding and continuing cuts that make the legal mills grind slowly. 

These are the four rhetorical springs that wind up to an outrageous degradation of the work and professional integrity of lawyers, who are essential components in an efficient, impartial and rights focused criminal justice system. Take time to read the last words as they stand on their own, before the rhetorical smokescreen of pseudo virtue and faux political seriousness: 

"hamstrung by what the home secretary would doubtless – and rightly – call the lefty human rights lawyers, and other do-gooders.” This is the Prime Minister speaking to his Party, overheard by the country. Here is my question – why does the Prime Minister of one of the world's major democratic nations view human rights negatively? And why complain about people who are trying to do good?

"Lefty human rights lawyers and do-gooders" is a phrase loaded with much freight and trundled out as if it were a matter of universal agreement that doing good as a human rights lawyer is a bad thing, and lawyers should all and only be sympathetic to the political ideology of the Right.

It assumes that the law is politically partisan; and clearly the Prime Minister believes it should be, provided it is Right leaning. This is an astonishing betrayal of his Office.

It suggests that those who defend the human rights of the accused by using all legal means are somehow obstructing the law, when in fact they are implementing, upholding and exercising the law as legislatively intended. This betrays astonishing ignorance of the role of defence lawyers.

It suggests that there is something unacceptable about doing good, which in this context means the lawyer, any lawyer, left or right, will do all in their power and within the power of the law to ensure that accused and victim are treated fairly and equitably before the law. This shows an astonishing lack of moral awareness and social perception.

I am not a lawyer. I am a concerned citizen. Here is the response of one QC:

Amanda Pinto QC, the chair of the Bar Council, which represents barristers, said: “It is shocking and troubling that our own prime minister condones and extends attempts to politicise and attack lawyers for simply doing their job in the public interest.

“Lawyers – including those employed by the government itself – are absolutely vital to the running of our grossly under-funded criminal justice system. Their professional duty is to their client and to the court, and not to play political games.

It is indeed shocking and troubling. And yes, it is indeed dangerous nonsense. 

Why do we take the photos we do?

So much of what we see is accidental; it's a matter of when and where we are, whether we look closely enough, and how much attention we pay. 

After heavy rain, walking to the car, I notice one leaf, sprinkled with rainfall, framed against worn tarmac, one of thousands within eyesight scattered along the street, discarded by trees now preparing for winter. 

This particular leaf is worn and torn, even the water drops have black specks which nature has not photoshopped out, and neither will I.

What made me stop, and look more closely, and decide to take a photograph of a fallen leaf on a worn pavement?

I have no idea; except that having seen it I couldn't unsee it, and the close I looked the more I could see.

Is it a wonderful photo? That depends how we are using the word wonder. In one sense wonder is about feelings of awe, being mystified by what is new, or beautiful, or unusual.

But used another way it is a word nearer curiosity, an interest in something for its own sake. This photo, as I pay attention to it, makes me wonder.

I wonder what have been the countless stories of the countless footsteps that have worn away the surface of the pavement? 

I wonder about the transience, fragility and ubiquity of leaves, their role in helping to keep our air filtered, and the functional beauty of their structure.

I wonder about this particular leaf, jewelled with rain or nature's tears, anticipating the autumn of its existence as part of the great cycle of creation, dying and recreation.

I wonder about the contrast between geology and biology, stone and leaf, permanence and transience, road and tree, human construct and natural product, and all the other contrasts between what this world gives us, and what we make of it.

I wonder too, about the inner processes of human perception that sees and draws us in towards such ordinary things which then touch us with extraordinary feelings of wonder.

This photo was an accident of timing, the result of momentary paying attention, pushed further I might say a moment of epiphany, seeing both what is there, and what it signifies. 

Such accidents of timing, moments of attention and gifts of epiphany I choose to believe are the attention-getting whistles of the Holy Spirit, waking us up to the world around us.

And therefore this photo is a sacrament of a particular moment, a reminder of how the gift of wonder and wondering ambushes us and jerks us out of our shoulder shrugging complacency about the miracle of the ordinary and the invasion of the everyday by the extraordinary.     

Thought for the Day Oct 5 – 11

Monday

Luke 11.1 “One day Jesus was praying in a certain place. When he finished, one of his disciples said to him, ’Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.’”

Prayer is a gift, the freedom to come before God and speak out of the heart. Prayer is also an invitation to fellowship with God, to speak with confidence, and in confidence, to the Father who already knows us, understands us, and has promised to receive us as his children. The prayer, “Lord teach us to pray” is the cry of the heart to understand, and to be understood.

Tuesday

Luke 11.2 Jesus said to them, “When you pray say, Father in heaven…”

The Bible has many names and descriptions of God. But Jesus was God’s Son, and naturally called God Father. Perhaps the most telling picture in the Gospels is the father of the prodigal, the waiting father, whose love, patience and mercy can’t wait for the return of the wayward son. “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God.”

Wednesday

Luke 11.2 Jesus said to them, When you pray say, “Father in heaven, hallowed be your name.”

The first prayer request is not for our benefit or blessing. It is that God’s name should be hallowed. That old fashioned word has a deep meaning – “may your name be held in reverence.” When we pray we do the exact opposite of taking God’s name in vain. Our most positive thoughts and feelings are tied up with God’s name – worship, love, obedience, praise, thankfulness.

Thursday

Luke 11.1-2  Jesus said to them, When you pray say, “Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come.”

Matthew tells us what this prayer means – “Your will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.” By praying this prayer we are learning that the reign of God begins in our own hearts. The love of our neighbour, being merciful as God is merciful, hallowing God’s name by the very way we live, forgiving as we have been forgiven. We are to speak the good news, and be the good news of God’s kingdom of justice and joy.

Friday

Luke 11.3 “Give us each day our daily bread.”

“Be gentle, when you touch bread,
Let it not be uncared for, unwanted.
So often bread is taken for granted.
There is so much beauty in bread,
Beauty of sun and soil,
Beauty of patient toil.
Winds and rain have caressed it,
Christ often blessed it;
Be gentle when you touch bread.”

Saturday

Luke 11.4 “Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sin against us.”

The poet Elizabeth Jennings wrote, “Forgiveness, the word by which we live.” We are forgiven sinners, and are called to be forgiven forgivers. The unforgiving heart closes itself off, and as Christians we contradict the very Gospel that saves us if, having been reconciled to God, we refuse reconciliation to others. Jesus is saying a costly and crucial part of our praying is for grace and mercy to forgive.

Sunday

Luke 11.4 “And lead us not into temptation.”

God doesn’t tempt or encourage us to sin. (See James 1.13-14) On our life journey there are countless times when we are tempted, and such temptations test our faith and our faithfulness as Jesus’ disciples. This is a prayer for strength to overcome temptation, and so to hallow God’s name, and act for the coming of God’s kingdom. And remember, Jesus was tempted as we are… and ever lives to pray for us.   

Each week since lock down in March, I have written a Pastoral Letter to our church community in Montrose. This is the one for this week.

…………………………………………………………………………………………….

Dear Friends,

Across our country we and our neighbours face more weeks, perhaps months, of disrupted family life and interrupted community activity. The recent measures to control the Covid 19 virus push back further any return to full social interaction. Being unable to visit another household helps stop the spread of the virus, but it also creates disconnections between us and our family, our friends, and our neighbours. That’s a hard ask, and yet it’s a necessary public health policy.

I’ve been wondering what these continuing situations of disruption and separation mean for us as a church community. One thing’s for sure. As the likelihood of increased loneliness, anxiety and depression increases, human contact becomes more and more important. So in a time like this, what should church communities be about these days? In the absence of regular services, having to stop the usual social coming and going of family life and church life; with restrictions on movement, on the company we can keep and on where we can go, here’s the question. How do we demonstrate our Christian faith in a way that is compassionate, prophetic and expressive of the love of God in Christ?

The biggest disruption the disciples ever faced was when Jesus told them he would be crucified, risen, and return to his Father. During that long last evening, he spoke to the disciples about how they would survive, what their mission would be, of the coming of the Holy Spirit to bring courage, vision and energy to take the good news to the world of their day, and ours. That night Jesus said something that is forever true: “By this everyone will know you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13.35)

That’s it. Not our welcoming building, not our preached sermons and well sung praise songs, not even our social engagement with community café, support of food banks, and much else that is the practical outworking of our church community. All these are important, some are even crucial to the life and health of every church. But what gives each of them the Jesus quality, the hallmark of the follower of Jesus, is whether all that we do and say and think and plan is energised, motivated and made real by the love of Jesus demonstrated in the shared life of a church like ours.

So, what should the church be about these days? What it has always been about. Making known the love of God, sharing the good news of forgiveness of sins, living as a Kingdom people, open to the pushing and pulling of the Holy Spirit urging us to be the embodied love of God. So the church's mission, in days of lock down and restrictions on social contact, is to look for and discover imaginative, innovative, generous and faithful ways of loving and living for the common good.

And that means loving our neighbour with the love with which God loves us. It means beginning to think how we can look after each other; perhaps especially those mentioned above, those for whom these restrictions increase feelings of loneliness, make troubling anxiety worse, and wear away the supports of hope and happiness.

One of the most thoughtful people around these days is Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. His new book is about restoring the common good in divided times. I was taken with a couple of his sentences, which seem to give us some clues about how to live a faithful life for Jesus in our local communities in these difficult times:

"For most of us it is other people who make the necessary difference to our lives, guiding us, inspiring us, lifting us up and giving us hope. It is the quality of our relationships that more than anything gives us a sense of meaning and fulfilment. Most important of all, it is the ability to love that lifts us beyond the self and its confines. Love is the supreme redemption of solitude."

Remember, way back at the very beginning, God said, “It is not good for man to be alone.” Eve’s creation was God’s gift of company, support, shared life, and yes, love of each human being for the other. Jesus came back to it again and again. “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another as I have loved you.”

He even told a parable about sheep and goats, and about how whatever we do or don’t do for other people, we do or don’t do for Jesus himself. People who are hungry, thirsty, lonely, strangers, ill, in prison – it isn’t an exhaustive list, it’s more a wide sample of what we will see if we pay attention. And what we will see as we pay attention to someone in need, is that this person, the least of Jesus brothers and sisters, is one for whom Jesus died, and in whom we are called to serve Jesus.

So as we live through these difficult days, Jesus words can be a guide as to what is asked of each of us. Love your neighbour. Like Jesus, be one who goes about doing good, and bringing goodness into the lives of others. That’s how folk will know we are Jesus’ followers. The phone call and text and email; the card, the flowers and the smile; the cumulative power of compassion, kindness and thoughtfulness; all and each are acts of love, the notes that make up the symphony of the life we live for Jesus. 

In such ways we will look for and discover imaginative, innovative, generous and faithful ways of loving and living for the common good. And in such ways we will discover that “Love is the supreme redemption of solitude.” Early Christians were called followers of The Way. By our love, folk will know we are followers of The Way, and what’s more, every step of that Way Jesus is with us, redeeming our solitude and sending us into the world as witnesses to that redeeming and renewing love of God,

Your friend and pastor

Jim Gordon

My Pastoral Letter shared with our church community this week

Dear Friends,

Many of us first heard the story of Jonah in Sunday School. If you’re older you’ll know the chorus, “Listen to my tale, of Jonah and the whale, way down in the middle of the ocean.” The story of Jonah is so familiar. It’s about the compassion and undeserved grace of God. The very idea that God would forgive Nineveh, the sworn enemy of Jonah’s people, is a scandal. What’s scandalous is that God chooses to have mercy on the world’s worst sinners, and Jonah resents it, and God has to talk him round.

Jonah is usually called the disobedient prophet. But it’s always worth asking why people do what they do. God said go to Nineveh. Jonah went to Tarshish, the exact opposite direction. He’s asleep in the bottom of the boat in the midst of a deadly storm. But he’s found out. He admits to the sailors he’s defying God’s command, and to save themselves they throw Jonah overboard. He’s swallowed by a great fish, prays a Psalm in which he promises to do as he’s told, and is spat out on the shoreline.

Jonah goes to Nineveh, but preaches the worst sermon ever. Nothing about God, repentance or mercy. “Forty more days and Nineveh will be overturned.” That’s it. Five Hebrew words. Bad news. No hope. Countdown to the city’s destruction and Jonah has a seat in the front row. Then the whole city repents, from the king to the cows, and call urgently on God, God has compassion, and spared them and their city.

So Jonah goes in the huff. He paid his ticket for the best seat in the theatre of God’s judgement, and finds that the original programme is cancelled and there’s a new production called compassion and forgiveness.

But to Jonah this seemed very wrong, and he became angry. He prayed to the Lord, “Isn’t this what I said, Lord, when I was still at home? That is what I tried to forestall by fleeing to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. Now, Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.” (4.1-3)

If our view of the world is that everyone should get what they deserve, then we will have trouble understanding forgiveness. If we’ve been hurt time and again, and have come to wish harm on those who harm us, then forgiveness will seem like weakness. And if we think the world should be a place where life is fair, where wrong is always punished and goodness always rewarded, then we’ll be disappointed, and even resentful that life isn’t the way we think it should be.

All of this is the Jonah mind-set. And it still survives whenever God doesn’t do what we want God to do. Imagine giving God a row because he is “a gracious and compassionate God”! It’s OK for God to forgive us our sins, but the idea that forgiveness is God’s gracious decision, and he shows mercy on all who call on his name, sometimes just doesn’t seem fair. Especially when they have done much worse than we have. That too is the Jonah mind-set.

And God’s answer to the angry Jonah, sitting on a hillside in the heat of the noonday sun, is to make a plant grow up to give him shade. The next morning the plant dies and Jonah is exposed to the dehydrating heat and is angry that the plant has died, blames God, and even wishes the precious God-given gift of life should be taken away. That would teach God! Truth is, Jonah would rather die than have Nineveh spared.

At that point this story comes crashing into the world we now live in. Think of the politics of hate. Reflect on how we ourselves, our politicians, and the wider world, view asylum seekers, refugees, migrant and displaced peoples. As we think about what attitude we should have to those ‘others’, whoever they happen to be, what does it mean to have faith in the gracious and compassionate God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ? How does my faith in Jesus, and in God’s justice and grace, God’s mercy and forgiveness, His care for all peoples, – how does that way of looking on God’s world, through God’s eyes, change my heart towards others?

The last two verses of Jonah are amongst the most moving words in the whole Bible. Go read them. This is God, God mind you, trying to convert Jonah’s heart from resentment to compassion, from hatred to mercy, from enmity to reconciliation. There’s a lot of hating going on in our world. The divisions are deep, damaging and hard edged. Instead of finding ways to work with and for each other, the style is to be over and against. It’s almost as if, like Jonah, people find their identity in decrying those they hate, oppose, and who disagree with them.

The book of Jonah is a brilliant sermon, preached by God, to closed hearts. For us as Christians, the faithful witness of the Church in our world at this time, will be as witnesses to Christ the Reconciler who heals enmities by the blood of the Cross, to Christ the Prince of Peace whose ambassadors we are, to Christ the preacher of the Kingdom of God whose outstretched arms on the cross welcome all who will come.

We are called to echo the very words of Jonah, not from hearts angry against others, but from hearts that have felt the healing flows of God’s grace, known the touch of God’s compassion and been transformed by the gift of forgiveness: “We know that you are a compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.” (4.2)

Those words, about compassion, slow to anger and abounding in love; not a bad strap line to guide the way we think about others. They call us to learn to live amongst others as the presence of Christ, and the voice of God’s grace, and in Jesus’ name.

Matthew 25 is a parable that describes and defines how we see people. In this one parable Jesus illustrates the contrast between a lifestyle of compassionate welcome and a lifestyle of uncaring self-concern.

One of the additional losses but necessary consequences of our current situation is that wearing masks obscures faces. For public health reasons, care and consideration of others, and the common good, a face covering in public closed spaces is, in my view, a moral duty and an act of responsible care. But face coverings have a major impact on social interaction – they cover faces. That is, they hide or obscure facial expressions of welcome, smiling, recognition, uncertainty, and much else. They make recognition, interpretation and communication more difficult.

The face is an outward expression of the inner person, and often seeing a facial expression enables us to interpret, communicate and interact with those amongst whom we live and move and have our being. Abraham Joshua Heschel (pictured) wrote with profound understanding about the importance of seeing and interpreting the face. To him the human face is a miracle of meaning, a mirror of the self, a road map of your life, or as Heschel put it, "an incarnation of uniqueness".

As one whose own face was known internationally and was remarkably expressive, he affirmed of all human beings, "no face is a commonplace".

Which brings us back to Matthew 25. Christ's extraordinary words are well known; "Insofar as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did it to me."

Did what? When?

"Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."

If someone is hungry, thirsty, lonely, destitute, sick, in any and every kind of need, what makes it worse is if it is unnoticed, if no one cares, helps or recognises their need. Jesus is illustrating the welcoming mindset of the Kingdom of God, welcome as a worldview, compassion as a lifestyle, care for others as an habituated disposition. And that comes from seeing faces, recognising our shared humanity in every face, and from welcoming the presence of each 'other'. That in turn means caring for the humanity of every 'other' whose face we see, and whose life we encounter as we go about the daily routines of every day.

Welcome is to look at someone’s face and know, here is a God-loved person, one for whom Christ died. Welcome isn’t being in someone’s face; it is to accept, receive and rejoice in a person’s presence, uniqueness and value. “Welcome others as Christ welcomed you…” Welcome means seeing in the face of each person the Christ who was the Eternal Word become flesh. In Jesus, we see God with a human face, and in each person we encounter one who is created in the image of God.

In that powerful and often astringent book, Life Together, Bonhoeffer wrote of prayer for others as a way of recovering an attitude of welcome to those we'd rather weren't around, or at least not around us! 

"I can no longer condemn or hate a brother for whom I pray, no matter how much trouble he causes me. His face, that hitherto may have been strange and intolerable to me, is transformed in intercession into the countenance of a brother for whom Christ died, the face of a forgiven sinner." 

I've always been intrigued by the way Bonhoeffer writes this. He clearly understands the importance of facial recognition, seeing Christ in the other person, and also seeing the infinite value of each human being as one for whom Christ died. That puts Jesus' words into even clearer focus – "Insofar as you did it for one of these, you did it for me." Brian Wren's hymn, 'When Christ was lifted from the earth', describes the generous, inclusive and welcoming love of Christ that his followers are called to embody:

1 When Christ was lifted from the earth,
his arms stretched out above
through every culture, every birth,
to draw an answering love.

2 Still east and west his love extends
and always, near or far,
he calls and claims us as his friends
and loves us as we are.

3 Where generation, class, or race
divide us to our shame,
he sees not labels but a face,
a person, and a name.

4 Thus freely loved, though fully known,
may I in Christ be free
to welcome and accept his own
as Christ accepted me.  

There is an inescapable logic in Christians as people of welcome. If you love Christ it’s because you are loved by Christ; we love because he first loved us. We are called to "see not labels but a face, a person and a name. AS those loved by God ourselves, we know that the face of every person is unique and no commonplace, the face of one for whom Christ died. And each time we meet someone, the Lord puts a question to us. In the face of this person I am now encountering, do I see the face of one for whom Christ died, and whom God loves? And will I "welcome and accept his own, as Christ accepted me".