Kia ora! Good morning!

We join together in our apart-ness again

We join as the Church global to celebrate the risen Christ.

Before we begin, take a moment to relax, to ‘arrive’ to our worship.

Be still and silent for a moment. We are pausing to acknowledge and grow in the presence of God in our lives. We are meeting as part of a church community, albeit a scattered one. We are stilling ourselves, our fears, our anxieties, and all the distracting things around us, to seek and delight in God’s life with us. Let us worship God!

Our words to focus this time of worship are based on Psalm 23

Day by day, God leads us: to the deep, deep pools of peace, to the green, lush lawns of grace.

Day by day, Jesus calls us: to pour out ourselves in service, to anoint the stranger with hope.

Day by day, the Holy Spirit shows us: the community we could be,

the family we are called to become.

Our prayer on the Way

God of all good, you are life and salvation to all— faithful and unfaithful, just and unjust, devoted and indifferent, passionate and dispassionate, holy and worldly, wise and simple, healthy and sick, young and old.

May your bigness inspire us,

When at times we feel low, flat, or slow;

May your bigness inspire us, when at times we choose to move in opposite ways to you.

Choosing not Goodness, but instead, choosing some imposter promising more than it ever can deliver.

In your mercy, meet us with grace.

Make us faithful and wise in your worship and service,

day by day and step by step adding fire to fire, fervour to fervour,

zeal to zeal, and love to love; in the name of Christ our Lord. Amen.

—Inspired by John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent (c. 600)

Bible Reading: Exodus 33:1-23

Reflection: Betwixt & Between by Martin Stewart

Do you feel like I do that everything is kind of poised? That we are on the edge of something. The old is passing and the new is almost upon us. I figure that the next 100 years of telling the story of the world will probably reference these recent months as being cataclysmic. A new reference point, in the way that the Great Depression and World Wars I & II were markers of significant change. Like, pre-war vs post-war, it will be pre-pandemic vs post-pandemic. It is all quite dramatic! What will we make of this moment and opportunity? Have you been thinking about what the next season of your life will be like? In this time of pausing, have you resolved to do anything in particular?

The Franciscan writer Richard Rohr makes an interesting observation about the particular time we are in. He uses the concept of liminal space. Here’s how he talks about it: ‘Liminal space, is an inner state and sometimes an outer situation where we can begin to think and act in new ways. It is where we are betwixt and between, having left one room or stage of life but not yet entered the next. We usually enter liminal space when our former way of being is challenged or changed—perhaps when we lose a job or a loved one, during illness, at the birth of a child, or a major relocation. It is a graced time, but often does not feel “graced” in any way. In such space, we are not certain or in control. This global pandemic we now face is an example of an immense, collective liminal space.’ [ Richard Rohr, Between Two Worlds Sunday, April 26, 2020]

Can you think of some particular moments in your life that could be described as liminal spaces? What opportunities came to you because you took notice of what was happening and acted? Today’s reading from Exodus is an account of one of these liminal spaces in the Bible (an obvious other one is the resurrection of Jesus). Moses is on Mount Horeb; he is now an old and worn-out man. The Promised Land is visible in the distance. But the people still remain restless after forty years of wandering and being shaped in a life of faithfulness to the God who has led them out of Egypt. There are as many signs as ever, that they are still an uncooperative bunch – the word for it is ‘stiff-necked.’ Everything is poised. Something is about to happen. But Moses, despairingly wonders if anything will come of it – what would be the point of their deliverance if God doesn’t come with them? He asks the Lord for one last clear sign of God’s presence: ‘Show me your glory, I pray.’ Just let me see you. Give me just one look, and I will be satisfied.

To see God is the great human desire isn’t it? The sceptic is always demanding such a sign, ‘I will only believe if I can see God face to face.’ Have you ever made such a demand? But it turns out that that seeing God would be too much. Moses is warned that the only view of God that is safe is the view of where God has gone by – from behind – after… … otherwise he would be totally overwhelmed. I’m interested in that because if we are indeed in a liminal space – poised on the brink of something new breaking through – the thing we might need the most at the moment is foresight – the ability to see ahead to what is happening so that we can seize it. Wouldn’t it be good to see what God is up to right now! But alas, the ability to see ahead might still rely mostly on hindsight. We can only safely see God’s coming by attending to where God has been. That, of course, is what faith is. Faith is based on what has been revealed, even though we are to take it forward into whatever we are doing. ‘Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards.’ – Søren Kierkegaard [1813-1855]

I find myself in a conundrum. In this Covid-19 season I am doing a lot of wondering about change and possibility – part of that, obviously, is because I am moving on into a new position. But I also wonder about how we will do and be church will be changed by what is happening. Should we perpetuate the same-old? Have you also been wondering? Have you found your ears pricking up when people talk about the good things that can come out of this pausing and taking stock? Do we want the same-old again, or is this time for a new thing? I believe that God continually makes new things out of the old, ‘ever old and ever new,’ goes the Sydney Carter song, ‘keep me travelling along with you.’ And I want to stretch forward and make the most of the opportunities that this great pause in the human enterprise is offering.

But… But I feel somewhat thwarted, because it is incredibly tricky for us to spot what God is up to ahead of us, it is tricky to foretell it, or prepare for it, and thereby it is hard to welcome it and embrace it. How long are we to wait? And, if we wait, will we have missed the moment? Will we forever be playing ‘catch-up? I’m a bit like Moses. I want to see ahead! Now! Is this a feature of humanity, always wanting to know what’s next? I remember, as a child, asking my mother what was for tea. The answer was usually, ‘wait and see.’ I also recall that the best Christmas presents were always the surprises. Knowing what I was getting took a lot of the fun out of it! If God did reveal something too far ahead, would it deflate us, or loosen us, and possibly make us unstable?

If I am to be a bit cautious about looking too far in front, I’m beginning to wonder if this liminal space we find ourselves in, is an invitation to something we are meant to recover from behind? A period that is offering some kind of clarity. A clearing of our vision. Like, having a procedure to have the cataracts/scales removed from our eyes! Apparently, people living in the foothills of the Himalayas in India and Pakistan can see the distant mountains for the first time in years. The pollution has reduced so dramatically. They must feel like they are on the edge of something possible that they had become resigned to never seeing again. In what ways has this global shutdown of the human operation cleared the way for our eyes to see, our ears to hear, and our hands to reach out and touch? Can we dare to hope for a better way? Can we change our ways? In my view there is no going back. We aren’t to seek out the good old days and relive them, rather, we are to make these next days the good old days.

Recovering is not going back, it might involve taking stock, and settling back, and pausing, and recalibrating, and readying ourselves for what is next. This could be the most wonderful thing for us. Rohr again: ‘The very vulnerability and openness of liminal space allows room for something genuinely new to happen. We are empty and receptive—erased tablets waiting for new words. Liminal space is where we are most teachable…’ What kinds of things should we be looking for and putting energy into recovering? Are we thinking nostalgically or prophetically? Can we see the big difference between these? What are you hoping for? What has come to you in hindsight that is now offering you a measure of insight and even foresight?

And the Lord said, “I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.” I wonder what that mercy and compassion looks like. How might we give expression to it in this parish?

Offering & Prayer for the Road

In this part of the service, we dedicate these gifts and indeed our entire lives once again to the service of God in the week ahead. We do this all, in response to the ongoing generosity of God of which we are all receivers and to remind ourselves that ‘the earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it’ (Psalm 24:1).

Collectively now at this moment as we turn our hearts and minds outwards.

Let us be grateful for God’s ongoing gifts, grateful that many of us can still give to the ongoing life and work of  St Martins and dedicate ourselves to the presence of God in our ‘bubbles’, in our phone conversations and in our waving across the street.

We pray:

Holy God; you call us to be made holy, to be made in your image.

We trust in your generosity, and so are free to be generous ourselves, opening our hearts and using our gifts freely, for your purposes in our world.

Bless these gifts and us to your service,

God who sees all spaces, you see the space between what we need and what we get, the space between the hunger and the nourishment provided, the space between our hopes and what actually happens.

You see the cracks in our lives out of which tears flow.

Help us live into and through these spaces with courage in the face of emptiness,

laying our hearts open to your mercy.

God who in is all spaces pouring your love and goodness in filling us to overflowing help us this week to take this love into all we do all we say, and all we are

In Jesus name we pray, Amen

We close reading, praying or singing the hymn: The Summons

Will you come and follow me if I but call your name?

Will you go where you don’t know and never be the same?

Will you let my love be shown, will you let my name be known,

will you let my life be grown, in you and you in me?

Will you leave yourself behind if I but call your name?

Will you care for cruel and kind and never be the same?

Will you risk the hostile stare, should your life attract or scare?

Will you let me answer prayer in you and you in me?

Will you let the blinded see if I but call your name?

Will you set the prisoners free and never be the same?

Will you kiss the leper clean, and do such as this unseen,

And admit to what I mean in you and you in me?

Will you love the ‘you’ you hide if I but call your name?

Will you quell the fear inside and never be the same?

Will you use the faith you’ve found to reshape the world around,

Through my sight and touch and sound in you and you in me?

Lord, your summons echoes true when you but call my name.

Let me turn and follow you and never be the same.

In your company I’ll go where your love and footsteps show.

Thus, I’ll move and live and grow in you and you in me. Graham Maule & John L Bell

A Blessing: May you go into your week with your ears pitched to the sound of God’s voice calling your name; with your eyes peeled for the face of Jesus in unexpected places; with your soul poised to receive the Spirit of God, the Spirit of Peace.

Sunday 26th April 2020 – with thanks to The Village Church

 Kia ora! Good morning!

We join together in our apart-ness again on this third Sunday after Easter

We are pausing to acknowledge and grow in the presence of God in our lives.

We are meeting as part of a church community, albeit a scattered one.

We are stilling ourselves, our fears, our anxieties, and all the distracting things around us, to seek and delight in God’s life with us.

Let us worship God!

Our words to focus this time of worship are some verses from Psalm 116, maybe appropriately titled, ‘Thanksgiving for recovery from illness’

I love the LORD, because he has heard

my voice and my supplications.

Because he inclined his ear to me,

therefore I will call on him as long as I live.

The snares of death encompassed me;

I suffered distress and anguish.

Then I called on the name of the LORD:

“O LORD, I pray, save my life!”

What shall I return to the LORD

for all his bounty to me?

I will lift up the cup of salvation

and call on the name of the LORD,

I will pay my vows to the LORD

in the presence of all his people.

O LORD, I am your servant;

You have loosed my bonds.

I will offer to you a thanksgiving sacrifice

and call on the name of the LORD.

I will pay my vows to the LORD

in the presence of all his people,

in the courts of the house of the LORD,

in your midst, O Jerusalem.

Praise the LORD!

Our prayer on the way

Loving God

Looking back, we recall a week where there was nowhere to go for coffee and chats,

no way to sneak a cuddle or even a handshake, with anyone who lives outside our bubbles,

no way to catch up, even from a distance, with anyone who lives outside our neighbourhoods,

no way to pop into a shop, other than the supermarket or pharmacy,

no way to walk on a beach, or hike over a hill.

BUT looking back, there was also:

that daily walk down Hamilton Ave, lined with Liquidambars in full Autumn colour,

warm sunlight to soak in and dry clothes on the line,

time to get lost in a book, jigsaw, knitting or Netflix,

a quiet so intense we could hear birds, occasionally a child laughing, a dog barking,

a world still enough to notice the piwakawakas flitting about so full of joy.

Looking back, we see now that it was a good week, God,

one where less people have been overtaken by the virus,

one where many more have recovered,

and it looks like through working together we are getting the better of this thing.

It was a week full of hope.

It was a week too where we remember that once two men walking down a dusty road were joined by a man they didn’t recognise.

They didn’t recognise him because their thinking couldn’t allow for the possibility that this could be the same man whose loss they were still mourning.

How easily we dismiss what we can’t understand,

how easily we miss what we are not open to

In this time now we hand over to you, the things that blind us,

the things that weigh us down and stop us being open to possibility,

the things that make us too weary to engage imagination,

the things that reveal our lack of faith.

These things are yours now Lord, yours to transform and make new in us.

We trust this to you because we have seen you transform

our sense of loss into gratitude for what we have,

our fear into peace,

our uncertainty into hope,

our swords into ploughshares,

the hungry into the fed,

the homeless into the sheltered.

May we learn to be agents of your work,

servants of one another in making this world a kinder fairer place for all.

In Jesus’ name we pray Amen

I think of the disciples locked up in the upper room, deflated and despairing, with fear and anxiety paralysing them. It was Jesus breaking into the room and breathing his Spirit on them that gave them propulsion. Similarly, on the road to Emmaus, it was the unfolding of the big story and the simple breaking of the bread that jolted belief and life back into them, and the boat, that we now know as the church, was able to get moving.

As we sit out this period of waiting and worldwide calamity, and wonder what ‘what next?’ looks like, we look for the breath and Spirit of Jesus to come upon us and provide us with the delight and oars to propel us forwards to where God’s kingdom coming meets us.

Bible Reading: Luke 24:13-35 New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

Today’s gospel reading is about a walk from Jerusalem to Emmaus. Although this walk was one of just seven miles (approximately 11km) it was one with profound significance for those who were present (Cleopas and his companion). The account of this walk has continued to provide great encouragement to Christians throughout the past 2000 years, and it is quite possible that Luke 24:13-35 may be a favourite Scripture passage for some of you.  

It is certainly a passage that I have, over the years, enjoyed reading slowly, imagining myself walking alongside those discouraged disciples who met that wonderful stranger on the road.

Confusion to clarity; discouragement to hope

It is the third day after Jesus’ death. The tomb is open and Jesus’ body is missing. His followers are bewildered and distraught. They had hoped that Jesus – this man who “was a prophet and was considered by God and by all the people to be powerful in everything he said and did” would “be the one who was going to set Israel free.” But things haven’t turned out the way they had hoped. They have already left Jerusalem. They are confused and deeply discouraged.

As many of us will have learned from painful experience, confusion and discouragement can be catalysts for growth in faith. An awareness of our own inadequate understanding can lead us to seek answers and be genuinely open to new insights. Discouragement can make us aware of our own limitations and prompt us to pray. It can stimulate us to strengthen the foundations of our relationship with God. But confusion and discouragement can also cause us to go round and round in circles in our thinking – which seems to be what was happening for these disciples in the early stages of their walk to Emmaus.

Jesus joins them but they do not recognise him. They continue to thrash out their concerns and their doubts about the validity of the women’s report of a vision of angels who had told them that Jesus was alive. As they walk, Jesus responds to their confusion and discouragement with great patience. He explains what is said about himself in all the Scriptures “beginning with the books of Moses and the writings of all the prophets”. Deepening (though partial) clarity supplants the disciples’ confusion; hope displaces discouragement.

When Jesus breaks bread with the disciples, praying for God’s blessing, they finally understand and believe that he has risen from the dead. It is through a familiar action that “their eyes are opened” and they recognise Jesus. This marks the beginning of another journey – both literally (the disciples immediately return to Jerusalem) and figuratively (as they begin to learn what it means be disciples of the risen Lord). Can you imagine how different their conversation must have been on the walk back?!

• Do any of the images included in today’s service reflect your experience at the moment? Do you feel that you are at a border or crossroads? Do you find yourself in a place of refuge? Are you struggling because of external factors over which you have no control? Why not talk with God about these things?

• Can you think of a time in the past when you felt confused or discouraged about your faith? What helped you to find hope or greater clarity? How might recalling that experience be helpful to you at the moment?

• Perhaps you are feeling discouraged or have doubts about your faith right now. If so, it may help to remember that even the disciples who were closest to Jesus had their moments. Hang in there. If it is helpful, perhaps you might phone and talk to someone who may offer you a fresh perspective?

• After recognising that Jesus had risen from the dead Cleopas and his companion immediately walked 11 kilometres back to Jerusalem (presumably at night) to share the good news with the other disciples. How might you share the good news about Jesus that others have shared with you?

Offering & Prayer for the Road

In this part of the service, we dedicate these gifts and indeed our entire lives once again to the service of God in the week ahead. We do this all, in response to the ongoing Generosity of God of which we are all receivers and to remind ourselves that ‘the earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it’ (Psalm 24:1).

Collectively now at this moment as we turn our hearts and minds outwards let us be grateful for God’s ongoing gifts, grateful that many of us can still give to the ongoing life and work of this parish and dedicate ourselves to the presence of God in our ‘bubbles’, in our phone conversations and in our waving across the street.

We pray

Like the disciples at Emmaus, we offer what we have.

They offered their company, their table, their bread.

We sense you are with us, Jesus, as we offer you our love,

our devotion, our gifts.

May our eyes be opened to your holy presence among us,

now and always.

As we gather while apart, we remember all churches across the world,

Who today are meeting as we are:

Walking this unknown road of pandemic uncertainty.

Open our eyes, open our ears, open our hearts,

To see you as the one who walks this road beside us.

We think of our leaders, local and national,

And don’t envy their positions at this time!

Our prayer is that they remember their call to the common good.

And serve with resilience, wisdom, and kindness.

We notice our planet,

In many places breathing a sigh of relief,

As our assault on it is subdued.

We pray that as the earth speaks at this moment,

We collectively would listen,

And not simply take up arms against our global home once again, as soon as we are able.

We bring to mind those who are almost always forgotten.

Yes, we are in lockdown but we are also privileged surrounded by our comforts of home.

We think of the poor, the refugee, the victims of domestic violence;

And in gratitude for where we find ourselves,

We ask, God, may your grace and mercy lift up and hold those who struggle at this time.

And as we begin to slowly emerge from lockdown over the coming months,

May we know how and when we can offer hospitality of all kinds to those in need.

We hold too at this moment,

Those who are wracked with fear, anxiety and worry,

Those for whom their imaginations turn to unhelpful places.

We pray for your peace, your deep peace, to make its way into their minds and hearts,

Becoming for them an endless resource of calm and of capacity to live, freely.

You, God, are the beginning and end of all creation,

In this we trust,

For you are good,

And your love never fails,

Despite all uncertainty and adversity.

In your Spirit,

Lifted with Christ we pray,

Amen.

As we “stay home and save lives” during this time of global pandemic we are all restricted in our physical movements, but we are still “pilgrim people.” The lectionary readings for today place our gospel reading alongside Psalm 116. This Psalm includes the following lovely words: “And so I walk in the Lord’s presence as I live here on earth.” (Ps 116:9) Let us remember these words of encouragement and give thanks for the presence of God with us today.