The Time Zones of Changers. (Parable of the Workers)

 On Sunday I shared the parable of the workers in the vineyard. And I want to share a slightly different take on the passage today.  It struck me as I read it but I didn’t have the opportunity to explore it further. So bear with me as I go on this voyage of discovery...

We live in changing times. To be honest Covid-19 is just another facet of change in what has been a change of era.  Like the turning of the seasons and the falling of the leaves, change is inevitable.  We roll from crisis to crisis - whether it is Brexit or Independence in political circles, mental health replacing smallpox et al, climate issues moving from CFC gasses to critical wipeout and then this virus hits, reminiscent of the HIV/Aids ‘outbreak’ in the 80s.  I know they are different but I use to highlight how we roll from one crisis to another as well as technological development throughout the eras - iron, agricultural, industrial, gadget overload to smart tech.  Arguably human beings are not as good at managing change as our ability to produce, consume and create.  Perhaps that is why today mental health is so fragile. But we are blessed with a God who is the same yesterday, today and forever. And you know whether you are keeping up or falling behind in this new world order - God loves you. 

 

So what struck me was change thinkers like using the bell diagram (see above) and it struck me as I read the passage that this is something we could explore.  Parables have scope for this kind of interpretation. The early adopters are the first ones to get that change is here.  The 7am crew live by the notion that the early bird catches the worm.  They are always looking for the next opportunity, and will take it if offered.  They are prepared, fit and able.  They know that hard work lies ahead but believe the rewards will be worth it, even if it just a denarius.  The 10am crew are not really that far behind, but they like their morning coffee first, perhaps just taking the opportunity to do a wee bit research on social media and the like.  After all if you are going to follow someone into the vineyard you want to see if they are really grapes worth picking.  

As time passes confidence grows with those sitting on the fence.  This group are genuinely hopeful the change will work but not confident enough to commit or energised enough to do anything about it. Only once the evidence is overwhelming that the work is worth it, or that the alternative is worse will they climb down and join in.  Many of these people inhabit our workplaces and churches.  The majority of human beings are cautious and like to be sure before committing. It can be why it takes so long for anything to happen in the church...

By the time you hit the 4pm and 6pm crews you are almost arrived at the destination...late adopters they have finally come around and support the change that has occurred.  Usually they have been the most critical, convinced that the change will fail.  Some get in there just in time to reap the rewards and benefit from the ‘praise and affirmation’ of a job well done such as the 4pm crew whilst the 6pm crew arrive surreptitiously not sure if looking for failure or not.  This can make the early adopters sore although more likely it is the middle groups of 10am and 1pm take the hump at the 4pm and 6pm crews.  And whilst they are busy grumping at one another, the 7am group are already away looking for the next change or challenge.  The 7am crew rarely sit still and whether we like them or not, we need to invest in our 7am crew. 

 All of our churches have these different groups and you need them all.  It can be hard to live with each other, especially if we feel that the 6pm crew steal our thunder.  In the parable Jesus treats them all the same - they all get paid the same amount.  And this didn’t go down well either.  So often we think that if we are not the 7am crew, pushing for change we are not making it as a Christian.  Sometimes we think that if we are the 6pm crew - joining in at the last minute we are stealing something we didn’t earn, benefitting from all the hard work that went before. And the 7am crew can be quite arrogant, not understanding the difficulties that face the 1pm group on the fence or the grief that the 4pm crew carry from being burnt before. It can be easy to point the finger and blame another for the failure, the decline, the misery of the Church.  As I was reminded recently in a tv programme - when you point the finger, three point back at you.  

God loves us all equally whether we arrived early in his mission fields or turn up late in the day.  He rewards us not on merit or work done, but with his infinite grace.  Of course we can’t abuse that grace, but maybe as we rely on that grace more, we might be more supportive for all in the church, especially those who call us to change, even if we don’t get it! Maybe if we appreciated all the workers in the mission field, recognising that none of us own the land we might focus less on what separates us and more on what unites us.  Ultimately, the work will get done, God’s mission will be completed, and at the end of the day - no matter when I started, I just want to be there when the Lord speaks those immortal words;

“Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Now get to work! 😉😇

Peace of Christ be yours

Love Sarah 

 

Steeple Beacons - What is Church?

And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it. Matthew 16:18 

What is Church?  It has been a challenging three months since the days we closed the doors of the church building.  Mothering Sunday - 22nd March 2020 the Session Clerk and I closed the doors and each wondered what would happen next.  Her frontline role gave her a perspective that was more realistic than my optimistic outlook.  She knew we were closing for months not weeks, and I wonder now at how she felt as she walked away in that knowledge.  

I live in the grounds of my church and opening my bedroom curtains each day I see the steeple stretch high into the heavens.  Church buildings were designed to dominate the landscape so that they would give glory to God, taller and grander than the buildings that surround.  As we glimpse the steeples on our way to work or to the shops we would remember and worship God. They served not just as places where the faithful gather to worship as one family, but as beacons of light into our societies.  How easily we forget God.  How quickly we dismiss Him in our busyness, in the demands of day to day living, in the prevalent need to consume, to hoard, to control. The steeples served like lighthouses guiding us back to sharing, to generosity, to letting go and letting God.  The steeples punctuating the horizon like exclamation marks point us to a higher way of living, out of the gutters of greed and selfish ambition. Now we build Towers of Babel, each one vying for that title and status.  And I wonder what they point us towards - lives of attainment and achievement, always striving and never getting there.  For there will always be another who builds a taller tower and so we go on. 

Unlike these show pieces, upon many a church steeple sits a cross reminding us that the way they point to is blessed by love, borne of partnership between God and people.  For Jesus gave his life for all, willingly and graciously to show that hell itself cannot defeat the Church, which is the Bride of Christ.  He is the cornerstone of the Church, and Peter, a human being with failure and success, with passion and a gob, is the rock upon which the Church is built.  So guess what, the church isn’t going to be perfect. Thankfully! 

But we are beacons in our world, even as the world tries to dwarf us, even silence us.  We don’t need steeples if our lives point others to God.  John reminds us that the light came into the world and the darkness could not overcome it.  Whatever happens with the church buildings, when the doors open or don’t, you are the church, I am the church, we are the church together.  Be a beacon where God has put you and give him the glory. 

And take a moment to look for the steeples and give God the glory, no matter the denomination! Pray that the light of Jesus would shine into these dark days and guide our way.  

Love Sarah 

Holy Space - A Case for Church Buildings

Holy Space - A Case for Church Buildings

Caveat: I am not advocating the opening of church buildings, or suggesting that buildings are the most important element of ‘church’. Or that we can’t be ‘church’ without a building.  Nor is the fully thought out case but I share my thinking in the hope it helps articulate something else in the ‘building’ debate.  

For as long as I can remember I have preached that God is everywhere, accessible everywhere, and that to box God into a building is unhelpful and indeed wrong.  The Bible shows us that God is found in the burning bush, the cloud, the fiery pillar, the mountain, the tent, the garden and the temple to name but a few places.  My teenage years were in the Salvation Army and we worshipped outdoors at the pier, the beach, the street on a regular basis as well as in the hall that had no architectural beauty.  Previously, I was Church of Scotland in a quaint wee church in the village of Connel which has a very beautiful stain glass window.  Then I ended up back in the Church of Scotland, mostly in typical church structures in Edinburgh and Lanarkshire.  I have preached and taught that the building is a resource not a museum.  So hear me when I say I get it.  I do understand when we talk about not needing so many churches, about well-equipped spaces, about churches in the right places.  Lord, I would love a well-equipped space.  Churches are often the least welcoming structures on the planet. 

But I believe in church buildings.  There I have said it.  There is something incredibly significant about church buildings.  It isn’t the history.  Blantyre Old has had a church building on this site for 453 years, currently on our third building which is about 157 years old. And the most beautiful reason to celebrate this achievement is that 453 years the congregation heard the Word of God read in the common tongue for the first time as they gathered for worship.  The Church became a place for the people to gather in worship, to hear and to share together in Holy Communion, brought together for a common purpose.  For the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. 

It isn’t the architecture or aesthetics.  A church is a church for me.  I judge a building by the state of its toilets! Mind you I will never forget the young man who sat in the back row of my first Christmas Eve Watchnight service in my first charge.  By now the majority of people had left and he was there still.  Speaking with him he said “Pink, why on earth did you paint it pink?” and I had to admit I had wondered that myself.  The Church used to blue before I arrived, and he was mourning it.  Suddenly he said “there is no way I am having my Dad’s funeral in a pink church.” And he left!   I have visited many cathedrals and churches in my time, and unlike, for many people, they don’t evoke a spiritual moment.  Yet for some they absolutely do, and I am amazed by the architecture and achievements of stonemasons and others and praise God for their gifts. 

So I always believed that I lived lightly with the idea of ‘church as building’, happily promoting that the church is the body of Christ, the people - and I still wholeheartedly believe that.  But all the conversations about church buildings is causing me some level of discomfort.  We think buildings are unimportant, merely a resource or a burden.  And prior to 2018 I think I would have readily joined in those conversations. Now I am on a different journey.

I have to come to the conclusion there is such a thing as holy space.  Yes, I know holy space is ‘everywhere’.  Two years ago a local ‘boy band’ filmed a cult video in the church, which included the simulated murder of a young lady on the chancel.  (The damage of that event is a story for another day and was filmed without permission.)  What that event did was challenge all my deeply held beliefs about sanctuary and holy space.  The building remains a building yet what the space represents is beyond definition.  As the minister I took the events incredibly personally and I had to work out why it affected me so badly.  Some of my reflections lead me to believe that we underestimate the value of the space within church buildings.  

Church allows us a different space to inhabit for a time.  A sanctuary away from the busyness of life, a place to be restored, to be refreshed, to be encouraged and to be empowered. Gathering allows us to celebrate God’s goodness, share our common story of faith and be sent out.  Someone commented on Twitter that we don’t need to open the churches for prayer because we can pray at home.  There are many things we don’t need buildings for - money we saved on gym fees could easily give us a home gym, we don’t need to eat out in restaurants or queue at McDonalds for a burger but we do.  Feedback I get on a regular basis from visitors and members to Blantyre Old is that it is a peaceful place.  The very atmosphere is tangible, calming even the most distressed.  I have had people so affected by it at funerals and weddings that even though they would never call themselves religious, they want to come back just to be in the space.

Church is a safe space (it should be).  A place where we come together without judgement or fear, knowing that we are all sinners, yet God welcomes us with open arms.  Church is, perhaps, the last gathering space where there are no criteria or waiting lists.  All are welcome, and yes that brings its own challenges.  When the young men filmed they made it impossible for the young lady to escape, and therefore showed the space as unsafe.  That was heartbreaking.  Therefore, church is a safe place in a world where there is often no safety. 

Church is about relationships, about people, about community.  We laugh, joke and moan about people and their seats.   Yet gazing around on a Sunday, we know who is missing.  And I don’t just mean the ones who are away on holidays, or a sports event, or unwell.  I mean the communion of saints.  I miss my saints too, seeing them especially when we sing their ‘favourite song’.  I see them and in that moment of worship we are connected with the cloud of witnesses. Gone but not forgotten.  The Jews believed that the Temple was where heaven and earth connected and when I see my saints on at worship, I know heaven is there. 

I am grateful for modern technology, and I am trying to be there online.  I am trying to be a minister to people in my parish and further afield.  I love the fact that I have been challenged to embrace it and in a way I’m sad it has taken the Church so long to embrace it. After all, the technology is not new and we have had individuals within the Church trying for years  to push us to reach out into cyberspace.  And I, for one, do want to know how to make cyberspace holy space, BUT not at the expense of losing holy space in the IRL (in real life).  

Let’s not do another reformation where we throw the baby out with the bath water.  Let us actually explore what holy space is before we destroy everything.  When I read reformation history I wept for the loss despite the gain.  Over time we have claimed back more and more, but we have also fallen back into bad habits of ‘clergy’ over ‘laity’.  I do pray for reformation and revival, and I will participate in the rationalisation of buildings.  However, I pray we don’t just see architecture and stones, burdens and bills.  I pray we see the presence of God and take our shoes off to stand on holy ground, and listen for Him first.  

God bless you! 

Love Sarah 

The Guilt of Grief

 Simon Peter said, “I am going out to fish.”

The others said, “We will go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat. They fished that night but caught nothing. John 21:3

This wee story happens after the resurrection of Jesus, and Simon Peter is caught in a grief cycle.  He is mourning his betrayal of Jesus, denying he knew him three times.  The cockerel crows and Peter weeps bitterly.  Now Jesus is back, not quite the same but still Jesus.  And Peter is lost having been the natural leader of the group, and a dear friend of Jesus.  Jesus had promised to make him the rock upon which the Church is built, but surely not now.  Yet he had brought it upon himself.  He had set himself up for the fall, and boy, did he fall.  But now what?  So he takes himself back to what he knows best.  Fishing, but wouldn’t you know, he couldn’t even do that right.  

Living in this time, for those of us who are blessed brings with it the guilt of grief.  The famous 5 stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance are well known.  But today, I want to think about the guilt of grief, that is those who are grieving but don’t believe they have the right.  We have a roof over our head, food on the table, money to pay the bills and our families, though distanced are well.  We know of death and we mourn for friends and the community, but though the damage of the virus surrounds us, we are ‘safe’.  And yet we grieve too.  

Like everyone we grieve what was.  We mourn the loss of just dropping round to see friends, of picking up the grandchildren from school, of nipping into the shops just for a wee look-see.  We put on a brave face as our child or sibling or parent celebrates a birthday in lockdown, wondering if Zoom is a gift or a curse! 

“When will the Church be back?” - oh I’d be rich if I had a £1 for each time I’m asked that.  Heavens, I think I’d be made for life if I had the answer.  We mourn our social gatherings from the Church to the pub, the stadium to coffee shop.  I read recently that if I’d known it was the last time I was going to eat out, I’d have taken the dessert.  And you know I had to agree. 

Grief exists in us all.  And yes, for some grief is bereavement.  The tangible grief that comes with death, where life has been changed forever.  And we look with compassion upon those truly grieving and it compounds our guilt for our grief.  For surely we are just inconvenienced and normal will return one day. 

I suspect, (and remember I’m no expert), that we are like Peter.  We have gone fishing and wondering why we caught nothing.  There is no going back to what was.  What has happened cannot be undone, just like Peter couldn’t take back his betrayal.  Fishing was his old way of life, his previous normal, but that didn’t work. We can’t go back.  All we can do is move forward, and importantly let go of the guilt of grieving. 

The weight of grief is heavy enough.  It is real. It is a deep, unspoken sadness we are scared to share in case we are called out as frauds.  I want to encourage you to own your grief, in ways that are right, safe and helpful for you.  In facing our grief together,  we can move forward together, supporting and encouraging one another.  Guilt will only drag us down and cripple us, isolating us by making us out to be wrong somehow.  

In the story, Jesus encourages Peter and the others to try one more time.  This time Jesus is with them and there is more fish than they can handle. God is generous in his care, his love, his provision.  He is also able to lift the burden of guilt as he did for Peter.  Peter had to face his reality, rather than be buried under it.  We have to face our reality.  And that might take some time but eventually the journey of grief leads us to acceptance.  God can help us lift the burden of guilt, and shower us with compassion, care, and love. 

I don’t know what the future holds, but I know who holds the future. And I know that Jesus said we are blessed now.  Blessed are they who mourn for they shall be comforted.  Let God comfort you.  Let go of the guilt of grieving and trust God to comfort you in your grief.  And Lord God, may I practice what I preach! 

God bless you, 

Love Sarah 

The Confession of An Over-Achiever

The Confession of An Over-Achiever

What I know about psychology could be written on the back of a postage stamp, so please take the following as anecdotal and personal.  

This lockdown is a real struggle for ‘over-achievers’.  How do we do something when we are so limited and restricted, especially if furloughed or work has shifted from people focussed to desk duties? How do we manage the guilt of not doing things?   A number of folks I have spoken to are stuck doing the admin work that they have avoided consistently - like data entry!   And then if you have children at home there is the joy (and frustration) of school work.  Encouraging the children to sit at the table and do subjects they have no intention of doing in school (going into S3), or the relentless boredom of maths revision and spelling sucking the life out of the youngest (primary), whilst you are trying to work feels like Sisyphus pushing the boulder up the hill again and again.  

Then there is the frustration of work that has changed overnight. For me, suddenly keeping in touch with people has become less about gathering together as supporting individual households, learning how to be a natural on screen(!) and finding technology to help rather than hinder.  Yet the real challenge for ‘over-achievers’ is that they need to be seen.  The affirmation that comes from people recognising all their hard work.  It’s not for praise as such or indeed glory.  It’s more complicated than that.  It is about a sense of purpose and place, of worth and value.  The ‘over-achiever’ will always go looking for something to show that they are doing something.  

My name is Sarah and I’m an ‘over-acheiver’.  Growing up I always felt I had to achieve in order to be seen, or if I did something ‘cool’ the school bullies would leave me alone. It is a constant battlefield because being an ‘over-achiever’ is exhausting, and generally means that you find it incredibly difficult to let stuff lie.  I can’t just iron a few items, I have to empty the basket.  So as an over-achiever how do I handle lockdown?  I am running 157km in May to raise money for the Church.  I felt the need to do something, and of course, it is something visible.  It is commendable and certainly worthwhile.  

And yet constantly I live in fear of not doing enough and what people might think of me or by extension the church.  That’s some level of arrogance perhaps, but it’s not meant as that.  It is the fear of failure or letting others down or leaving a negative impression.  So often the ‘over-achiever’ isn’t looking for praise but affirmation - that they are doing enough, doing the right stuff, that they are worthwhile. You will often find ‘over-achievers’ are incredibly busy people who are always trying to please everybody! 

So how can faith talk to the ‘over-achiever’...? The scripture that comes to mind is Paul talking with the early Church in Corinth - a place full of ‘over-achievers’ in a culture that encouraged that style of life.  

Paul says: I planted the seed, and Apollos watered it. But God is the One who made it grow. So the one who plants is not important, and the one who waters is not important. Only God, who makes things grow, is important. The one who plants and the one who waters have the same purpose, and each will be rewarded for his own work.

I am God’s child, and to be honest that is my core identity.  And he is the one person I don’t need to ‘show off’ to.  He loves me, and he calls me to be Sarah. And then he puts people in my life to share the adventure.  From family and friends, to a congregation and community, to colleagues near and far, I am surrounded by people who want to build a better world with me.  We are all in this together, each playing our part, for example, whether it is shielding at home to protect our health and limited resources, or simply staying home to slow the spread, or stacking shelves as fast as possible or caring for the dying whilst wrapped in PPE - all of us count.

And then there is God himself. As we continue through the Easter season we are reminded that death is defeated, that life has won, that evil is squashed and good has overcome.  Yes, we live in troubled times.  Some like to say the war is won but the skirmishes continue.  But God is over all, and through him all things are possible. He, who created the world in its intricate beauty, and saw that it was very good, also works in partnership with human beings to care for it.  Even God values the relationship of collaborative working.  God is in it with us, and will lead us through the valley of the shadow of death.  

I have learnt over these past couple of years, that sharing the responsibility of my calling with God and with others is key to living a healthy balanced life.  And I know that this is an on-going learning curve.  And when I start worrying that I’m not doing enough, I remind myself (again and again) the Church already has a Messiah! 

God loves you, and you are doing amazingly well.  Play your part, no matter how insignificant it might feel, knowing that you have saved lives, helped angels (in PPE) and contributed to the healing of communities and neighbourhoods.  That is no small achievement! 

God bless you! May you know his peace and presence with you.

Love Sarah 

The Place of Privilege

The Place of Privilege

I know I write from a place of privilege.  I want for nothing, my family are all home - none of us are on the frontlines, my cupboards are stocked, I have a park for a garden, I can get daily exercise and my workplace is within walking distance. My family throughout the generations including my Gran (97) are all well and are their usual chirpy selves(!).  Okay, maybe not quite their usual chirpy selves. Everyone I phone to offer help to are sorted which of course is fabulous. I’d far rather that than have anyone go short.  What then can I offer into these circumstances?  What encouragement can I offer?  I know God is with you yet for many it feels like he is taking a badly time vacation.  

None of us are avoiding the troubles of this time.  And I know that God is getting the blame from some.  He is in a place of privilege it would appear.  Where is he when so many are dying?  Why isn’t he fixing the world?  Why doesn’t he do something?  As you pour out your frustration to God, you are standing in the same place as many others have before you.  Read the psalms and you will hear your emotions reflected in them. When Jesus shares the Beatitudes - it is not blessed are the rich, blessed are the privileged, blessed are the employed - Jesus says blessed are the meek, blessed are they who mourn, blessed are they who are peacemakers, blessed are the poor...

Yet even in my place of privilege I know the anxiety of this time.  I feel it for my young children, shaped by this time.  I feel it for my congregation, many of whom are shielding and missing the contact of grandchildren or good friends. I feel for the families mourning as funerals are held with a handful of people. I feel for those waiting at home anxious for news of loved ones, unable to visit even those who are in hospital with, dare I say it, normal health concerns.  I feel for those I haven’t contacted since lockdown for one reason or another.  I feel for my Gran who is in a sheltered home in Perthshire, and with whom I have had longer conversations than at any other point in our relationship.  She was in the WAF and has decided that this is better than the war because at least no-one is trying to blow her home up!  Another lady - Mary - of the same decade told me this is worse than the war because at least in war time, they could go outside and meet up, they could have groups and share together.  Both my Gran and Mary, however, are incredibly resilient and could teach us all something about hanging in there and making the best of it. 

God is with us. Whether we are in the fields of contentment, the valley of the shadow of death, or the table of our enemies, God is there. We might be like Moses, broken and lost, running from our place of privilege and wandering the desert looking after another man’s sheep wondering what happened.  Yet God is there - the bush burning but not burnt up.  We might be like Elijah, given our all, burnt out and exhausted, crushed by selfish people and crippling systems - God meets Elijah with physical sustenance, then spiritual sustenance and then a reminder that he is not alone.  We might be like Mary, sweeping house, listening to Roman soldiers bullying people in the streets, praying for freedom, when God turns up with the promised Messiah.  Paul writes that we live in the world but we are not of the world. This world is what it is and we have to take responsibility for it.  God provides us with courage, strength, wisdom, knowledge and creativity beyond any other species and with that we have responsibility.  We can make the world a better place.  We can learn from this time.  We know the value of human life is the same whatever our creed, race, religion or sexuality.  We are reminded of the value of family and friendship, previously often lost to the busyness of life.  We are blessed by those society (politicians) looked down on as ‘lower class’ workers as the first became last and the last became first.  Suddenly celebrity status means very little as we clap for key workers or thank God when the bin has been emptied.  

God is in this season.  He is present holding the hand of the dying, for I believe that God is there for every birth and present at every death. Now is the season of challenging the stereotypes of global society, building community in streets where neighbours were strangers, where communication is concentrated and focussed, where what is essential proves how much was window-dressing.  What do we truly value? 

Just as I wish I could do more to help, I wish God could too but that is not the way this world works.  Yet miracles do happen.  As the world resets, as nature heals, as we come to appreciate the real value of life, maybe there are miracles already happening.  And if I can let go of my self-importance and place of privilege, maybe I will see what is really happening, and praise God even as I pray for the sick and the dying, the fearful and struggling.  We are the people of the cross and the empty tomb - there isn’t one without the other.  But the empty tomb speaks of life not death.  Life will overcome death. 

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son that whosoever believes in him will not die but have eternal life.  John 3:16

Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted. 

We live in the hope of life eternal, that what we have and see is temporary.  Nevertheless we are called to be good stewards, to look after this world, and to love God, love ourselves and love our neighbours.  We are in this together - God and humanity share responsibility, working together.  So live well in this season, open to new possibilities, open to a brighter future, and the knowledge that God will be present always, even to the end of the age. 

May God bless you richly with what you need, whatever that may be! 

Now these three remain - faith, hope and love, but the greatest of these is love. 

Love Sarah 

Waiting - Patience - Living during ‘in-between’ times. 26/4/2020 Sermon

Reading: Hebrews 9:15-28 (NIV)

Sermon: Living in time of transition - in between time. 

The theme I wanted to try and focus on is patience and or is it impatience?  It’s a real challenge because as you all know I am not the most patient person on the planet.  When I get an idea I want to run with it immediately.  I get excited and want to share my enthusiasm with others.  Yet this is a real season of patience for me.  I am being made to wait on important decisions because of the lockdown, and to be honest I am intrigued as to where these weeks and months will lead me as individual and as a church.  If this time was a book, I’d be the one reading the last chapter of the book before the middle of the book to find out what happens.  I read the Scottish Government document regarding Covid-19 and coming out of the lockdown.  What I would have given for a detailed timeline, and for the Church and others like Mosques to get a mention.

I sense a growing impatience, particularly in the business world to return to some semblance of normal.  More and more companies are finding ways to open up, and I see the excitement that our favourite takeaways and coffee shops are generating, finding ways to keep us satisfied.  At the same time, I am wondering what it means for keeping the NHS and support systems safe, because until the NHS can go back to some kind of normal, those with health conditions that are not Covid-19 won’t receive the level of care they need.  And that isn’t a criticism of the NHS but a vague understanding of the fact that Covid-19 isn’t the only health situation out there, but it is dominating.  

So how do we live in this in between time?  And it is a time of waiting.  We know that this version of the lockdown won’t be forever, even if occasionally it is reintroduced, but some version of social distancing will remain in place for a significant period of time.  And that goes against everything we have become used to.  We get deliveries in a day or a few days of just about anything. We click and collect.  We watch 24/7 news, we online bank, we watch box sets rather than wait a week for the next episode.  We are no longer designed to be patient, to wait, to exist in liminal time - that in between time. 

We know our world. The world is as it is - at least what we knew just over 100 days ago.  For the Jewish people their world was shaped, as ours is, by ritual and practice, by festivals and milestones.  The Old Covenant was full of rules, and requirements for sacrifice and sin offerings.  When you read through Leviticus as I just have it is a whole other world of ritual and sacrifice, that would make sense in that culture.  Repeatedly, you find God denouncing the sacrifice of children made to the god Molech so other tribes certainly had sacrifices as part of their culture.  Ritual helped people to distinguish between the ordinary and the holy, like we offer a guest the best of what we have.  God is holy, to be respected and honoured.  But a covenant wasn’t a dictatorship.  A covenant is like marriage vows - promises, vows made between a couple to love and honour one another, to be faithful to one another, to share life together.  The Old Covenant was a living, loving relationship between God and his chosen people, which had to include the forgiveness of sins.  It is important to know that God and Abraham entered the Covenant as equals despite God’s holiness.  God chose that. 

But God is holy, and we are so not! So, on the Day of Atonement, the High Priest went into the Holy of Holies and sought forgiveness for the people on their behalf.  It was an incredibly special day full of ritual practice, outfits, clothes, fasting and sacrifice. 

The author of Hebrews in this passage shows how Jesus is the sacrificial lamb and fulfils the requirements of the Day of Atonement, but that because he does it in the heavens, rather than in an earthly copy of the heavenly temple, he has fulfilled the Old Covenant between God and his chosen people, and allowed the start of the New Covenant, that is a relationship between God and all his people.  The High Priest could only use the blood of animals, which had its own set of rules, and blood was known as the source of life.  In scripture we are told that and it is why Jews don’t eat meat with blood in it because blood equals life.  

Therefore to completely fulfill the Old Covenant, to honour that promise, that relationship between God and his people, Jesus had to use his own perfect, sin free, blemish free life - life blood - to cleanse, forgive and begin the New Covenant.  Jesus died to take away the sins of the world, and allow something wonderful to begin.  Yet too often we miss this out of our faith story, and think somehow we are the ones who have to appease God.   We spend time trying to make ourselves worthy.  We think God wouldn’t have time for us, in our mundane lives.  We don’t want to bother him with our guilt, our anxiety, our worries, our boringness...but I want to tell you that God cares and loves you enough to have come amongst us in Jesus Christ, and be the ultimate sacrifice and gift to humanity.  And we know that God can never leave us or abandon us, so therefore he is with us in this time of waiting, of liminal space, of uncertainty...because as Christians we are living in the in-between time.  We live between Christ has come and Christ will come, what some call simultaneously living in the “now and not yet”

Part of the problem of the human race is that we think we have to solve everything, do everything, be responsible for everything.  We need to be doing.  We need to have purpose. We need to be in control.  And when that control, that purpose, that activity is taken away, we are bereft, lost, tossed about.  We don’t like waiting.  We don’t like not knowing what should be done or can be done.  We see it all the time in the random pronouncements of politicians and pundits on what we should have done or be doing. 

Within the Christian faith - we regularly build this waiting time into our faith journey.  We maybe just haven’t truly appreciated it because culture pushes in and fills up our spaces.  Think about it for a moment, run through the Christian year.  Remember we start the Christian year with Advent - a season of preparation, waiting for the coming Messiah - not just the babe in the manger but a recognition that Jesus promised he would return. A sense of expectation and anticipation, of waiting.  The New Testament writers expected Jesus to return quickly, yet over 2000 years later we are still waiting.  But why are we so surprised at that? The promise of a Messiah was made hundreds of years before He came.  There are 400 years of silence between the Old Testament and the New Testament.  It took Moses 120 years to fulfil his mission...Move on from Advent, through Epiphany where many believe it took the Wise Men about 2 years to meet Jesus! Then we hit Lent - 40 days in the wilderness with Jesus, again a season of preparation, of penance.  We arrive at the Cross, wait ever so briefly through Holy Saturday that feels like eternity and into Easter Sunday morning. From there we have 40 days til Ascension and 50 days til Pentecost - a season of waiting for the Spirit. 

Kind of goes against same day delivery and live-streaming culture. 

Add to the mix the place of the Sabbath, a consistent doctrine within Scripture which we have so lost in this world.  We butchered it with constraints and lost the beauty of it in ridicule and misunderstanding, of selfish ambition and greed.  But consistently God reminds us of the value of Sabbath.  We need to rest, and most importantly rest in him and with him. 

Waiting is a discipline of faith.  Not popular - I get that.  Waiting is not wasted time.  Waiting is a time of growth, preparation, penance leading to new life, indeed eternal life. A grace, a fruit of waiting is patience.  Over the next few weeks I hope to explore the discipline of waiting under the doctrine of Sabbath.  Trust me Sabbath can be rebellion not just resting, it can be play and celebration, not just meditation and chilling.  

Let us learn how to wait, and to watch for his return.  

God bless you! Amen.