The Olympics Opening Ceremony, 2012

I remember the 2012 opening ceremony. 

Being English, I naturally thought it would be an embarrasment. 

I was so wrong. It was so wonderful. It made you happy to belong to this country. In touch with its (decidedly varied) past. Friendly, inclusive, able to make a joke about itself.

I would like particularly to give the credit for the subsequent retreat into a suspicious, mean, cruel, often vicious media environment to the Mayor of London in 2012. A man who put his own brief, ignominious time in power above the good nature of the country. A man who partied while people's grandparents died.

But  one day we will be proud of this place again. In a day when we are once again driven by kindness, love of our landscape, an understanding and a reckoning with our past. And not by fear and hate.

We will get there.

"Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not."

If Paul Had Lived in the Time of English Village Churches

 After we had torn ourselves from them we journeyed to Kos. However we could not find the church there, as there was a benefice service at Rhodes.

When we got to Rhodes, we only found the people from that city at church. All the people in Kos had just taken the opportunity to have the week off.

So we went on to Ptolemais. And found out they only had a service on the 3rd Sunday, which was "Celtic Evensong". And it was the 2nd Sunday. So we gave up and went to Jerusalem.

I said to Paul, "do you think this is a good way to organise church resources?" But Paul said, "Listen, Luke. I set up these Mission Areas. It's the most efficient way to manage the available priests. And I'm making you Mission Enabler responsible for Troas and lay workers."

A Pressing Matter

So our Messy Holiday club ended up rather messier than expected.

We thought the flower pressing would be a charming activity. A chance to preserve a moment for eternity. Making something beautiful.

But not for some of our Little Pebbles.

They wanted something more exciting. And they nagged and nagged and I presumed they meant leaves or something so I told them to clear off and get on with it.

Have you ever seen a pressed beetle collection? Don't get me wrong. Some of the harlequin ladybirds were quite dramatic. But it's still a bit gruesome, seeing a cockchafer reduced to a blob six inches across and a molecule thick.

I'm just glad we got that badger off them in time.

Through the Curtain

 I'd like to apologise to Margherita. 

You may remember that we have had an increasingly battered tapestry of the Feeding of the Five Thousand hanging on the wall in the Moot House antechapel. It looked past its best, so I thought it was time it went.

Needless to say, the minute I threw it away, Margherita turned up wondering what had happened to her picture. 

And yes, I have broken the rules that say you should only get rid of a "donated" item, however ghastly, once 2 generations of the donor's family have passed away.

And I can only blame poor research. I believed that Margherita wouldn't mind as she was dead.

Turned out she'd just been on holiday in Skegness.

Margherita has been very gracious about the whole thing, and says she could see how I got the two confused.

A Prophet Without Honour

Jesus left there and went to his hometown, accompanied by his disciples. When the Sabbath came, he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were amazed.

“Where did this man get these things?” they asked. “What’s this wisdom that has been given him? What are these remarkable miracles he is performing?  Isn’t this the carpenter? Isn’t this Mary’s son and the brother of James, Joseph, Judas and Simon? Aren’t his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him.

Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his own town, among his relatives and in his own home.” He could not do any miracles there, except lay his hands on a few sick people and heal them. He was amazed at their lack of faith. (Mark 6:1-6, NIV)

Jesus has come to Nazareth. And we know from Luke's Gospel that he's reading and preaching from Isaiah 61: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me. Because the Lord has appointed me to proclaim good news to the poor." 

This is exciting news - especially because Jesus is saying it is fulfilled in him. He stands before them with the Good News of God's work in freedom and salvation. And they should be delighted that they are hearing this. 

But turns out some people don't actually want to be given the chance to see God's freedom working in the world. Instead they'd rather find excuses to not allow the Spirit to be at work. Calvin put it well in his Commentary on the Synoptic Gospels : “It is not mere ignorance that hinders men, but that, of their own accord, they search after grounds of offense, to prevent them from following the path to which God invites.”

And they didn't come to be changed, to be caught up in God's new work. They came to be people who taste the Scripture - not those who drink God's Spirit. This was a safe place. They could come, worship, be entertained by a little talk, and go away - unchanged. So of course they're going to come up with all the reasons that they are now going to go home, and rehearse over their Sabbath meal, for why this Jesus isn't all that after all.

And don't get me wrong. There's nothing wrong with people first coming to church through belonging. You're part of a group. You get a chat afterwards. People care and ask how you are. There are biscuits.

But there is so much more. The Spirit of the Living God wants to share God's love with us. The scriptures are full of joy and challenge and hope. When we come to worship, we can know that God is really here, joining with us.

Or we can be a critic, list the 7 things we've not liked today, decide which four things about other people we judged, and trot home and go over them at the dinner table. It's lazy. It's less effort than engaging with scripture and hoping to be transformed to be like Jesus. And ultimately it's less fulfilling, of course. It's not even as useful as just coming for the biscuits.

But that's how they reacted to Jesus because they didn't want to change. How do we respond to God's word today? 

The Parable of the Lost Sheep

There was a shepherd who had a hundred sheep. And one went missing.

And the shepherd knew there was some shepherding to be done re number 100. And should have gone out to find her.

But the ninety-nine pointed out that they'd prefer to be moved to some better grass.

And they really wanted to do some in-depth study on what it was like to be a sheep that was safely in the pen.

And a salt lick. Obviously they had a salt lick, but maybe a nicer salt lick?

And they wanted a decent consultation on that collie. Sure, the dog was keen to keep them safe. But all that nipping their back legs, when they just wanted to have a bit of a wander, seemed a bit much. Maybe they could replace the collie with a labrador? Much less nippy.

And grass was a bit dull. Maybe they could be let out on some clover occasionally.

So the shepherd spent a few days settling all the various needs of the 99 sheep.

The hundredth was eaten by a wolf on day 2.

But the other 99 were OK.

So it was all fine. 

We left him out there (after Thomas Hardy)

We left him out there

To drift on the air

The sun cast down its face

The rain will bless his place

The tides will cushion him to sea

Maybe now he is free.

Liturgy for the Day after Summer Solstice

 Archdruid: Nights are drawing in.

All: Soon be Christmas.

Gardens (III) The Memory of Trees

In our first foray into the Garden, gentle Beaker Folk, we considered that there was a garden with two trees. And one was of life, and one was of knowledge. And God walked in the garden with Adam and Eve. And this Edenic state of affairs came to an end when Adam and Eve ate from the tree of knowledge and there was no going back.

But the memory of trees (© Enya) remained. The Buddha meditated under the Bodhi tree. The Canaanites (and the Israelites, when nobody was looking) worshipped around the Asherah poles. The Norse and Germans in their turn, had the Ash tree Yggdrasil, the World tree.

And the Israelites knew that trees could regenerate given the right condition. Isaiah told us, "There shall come forth a Rod from the stem of Jesse, And a Branch shall grow out of his roots."

And in time, a branch grew from Jesse. And alongside, another tree grew. It was cut down for the use of the Roman Empire, and on it was nailed the son of Adam and Eve who was also the son of God.

On that tree, the son of God promised he'd meet a condemned rebel in a garden shortly - "today you will be with me in Paradise". And that tree of death became a tree of life. The curse in Eden was reversed by that obedience in Gethsemane, by that tree on a hill, and resurrection in the Garden of Life.

And that paradise - a walled garden - turns out to be a Garden City. I don't know if the founders of Welwyn or Letchworth Garden Cities thought they were trying to build the New Jerusalem, but it was a noble aim.

This walled garden has gates. But they are never shut. So you can go in whenever you want. And you can check out any time you want - but you'll never want to leave.

And here is the Tree of Life again. This time with bonus fruit and healing leaves.

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from

the throne of God and of the Lamb down the middle of the great street of the city. On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any curse. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be in the city, and his servants will serve him. They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads. There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light. And they will reign for ever and ever. (Rev 22:1-5)

Let's face it, if the water is a clear as crystal, this is going to be heaven for all except the owners of water companies. 

And everything is new again. The creation is in the state of peace which Paul tells us in Romans it is currently groaning for. We are in the Eden we have dreamed of - the Eden which our earliest myths told us about, the imaginary garden we always wanted to return to. And all manner of things will be well, when we have the Lamb for our sun and God for our king, and will be finally at home.

Just a Mustard Seed

One thing about the Mustard seed.

And it’s something Jesus mentions in passing. He takes it for granted.

That when the tree is very large, the birds of the air shelter in it.

And we can, in our way of making allegories, come up with explanations as to what the birds represent  - the Gentiles, maybe. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

But also, Jesus is just taking for granted God’s goodness in creation. God’s generosity. The birds have a place to rest, because God has provided the mustard seed. We are called to care for God’s world, with its many dependencies, its web of wonder.

Seeds (in General)

Thing about a seed – it drops where it likes. And it may or may not grow.

You drive down the side of a main road. Or walk along a canal towpath. There’s always loads of apple trees.

They’ve not been planted there. They’re self-seeded from apple cores, thrown out of cars or thrown off boats going down the canal.

Apple trees never grow true from seed. Every apple tree from seed is genetically unique. They’re not like yer Granny Smiths or Golden Delicious, grafted from cuttings so every one is the same.

They’re free. Every tree down the side of the A1 or the Grand Union. They’re unique. There has never been a tree like them. There will probably never be another.

You can moan about people throwing apple cores out of windows. You might be the sort of person who wants every apple on earth to be a Cox's Orange Pippin.

Or you can be glad that so much genetic diversity is blooming down every hard shoulder. Rejoice in the glory as God does, I believe, that every tree is unique, and blooming and fruiting to the glory of its creator.

You never know what a seed might do. But you can give it a chance.