Last week’s sermon focused on John 15: 9-17 and used some material from the excellent OneKirk worship material and from the equally excellent Lawrence Moore’s blog, Disclosing New Worlds.  As always, youth thoughts and comments are wel,comed.

This is a sermon preached on Sunday 8 March on Mark 8: 31-38 (Lent 2B).  As always, I’d be glad to hear your thoughts.

This is the sermon I preached this morning at Barrhead United Reformed Church on Mark 9: 2-9, The transfiguration of Jesus.

1 Samuel 3:1-10 is one of my favourite passages in the Bible.  I love the story of Eli and Samuel and all its imagery and drama.

Let me know what you think of the sermon.  Thoughts, comment and criticism (constructive preferred) all welcome.

I was leading worship at St Andrew’s in Blantyre this morning while their minister Peter is off at a conference.  It was great to be there again, although we had a bit of a hymn tune issue which I thought was kinda funny.  It always amuses me when people don’t know a tune how quiet they get, usually with a kind of stunned ‘Help! That’s not the tune we know!’ look on their faces.  The audio of the sermon is above.  Our text for today was Mark 1: 1-11, the beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

St Andrew's Blantyre

This week’s sermon, Waiting.  As usual your thoughts would be greatly appreciated!

The sermon includes some words at the end which are not mine, but Jonny Baker’s from his book Alternative Worship.

Today’s sermon, preached at Barrhead URC.

Why are you here?  Today?  Why did you choose to come here this morning?  When you come here, what do you find?  Why do you come back every week?  To meet your friends?  To sing songs, to listen to people me, to hear the Bible read?

Your role in this whole Sunday thing is really very passive.  I decided the hymns, the prayers, the readings and the content of the sermon.  Your job seems to be to sit there and listen and to sing what I tell you to.

I suppose I hope that something you will hear or sing might cause you to think about your faith, your God, your place in the world, and if it does then that’s a good thing.  But if that is all that happens, if we have a nice time and are maybe stirred a little in our souls then we have completely missed the point.

Our Gospel reading today (Matthew 25: 31-46) is most definitely the point.  It is the reason for our being here, although it’s sometimes hard to see the connection.  Jesus tells the people listening to feed the hungry, give a drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, and visit the sick and the imprisoned.

I’ve just finished reading Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell.  I know it’s taken me a while to get round to this but I’m kind of glad I waited because I think I’m probably in a place now where it makes more sense to me that it might have when it came out a couple of years ago.

The book is full of gems.  For me, Bell’s engagement with the Jewish Jesus is illuminating and helpful but the line that struck me most was:

If it’s not good news for everybody then it’s not good news for anybody.

His explanation is that if person X starts to follow Christ that should be good news for the Muslim next door or the Hindu across the road because person x will be a better neighbour.

I’ve asked the question ‘What difference does it make to the world that we follow Christ?’ in a few sermons over the past months.  I think Rob Bell’s observation gives at least a place to start looking for an answer.  The Good News isn’t just Good News for us.  It should be Good News for the people we live with, the people we work with, the people we share our street with, the people we meet and all the people we come into contact with.

The lectionary for this week is Matthew 25: 31-46 (the sheep and the goats/i was naked, hungy, sick, in prison) and in his Chocolate teapot for 28 Nov Roddy Hamilton has posted some thoughts:

There is no way Jesus intended to start a church. Nothing he did was designed to grow a great institution that has fought over how many angels you can get on a pin head, the colour of cups in the cupboards and who should be allowed to use them, should the minister raise three fingers representing the Trinity during the benediction, should we stand for the bible, what should be the balance of hymns between traditional and contemporary etc, etc, etc. You can add to the list as you feel the need.

All Jesus did was tell folk there are forgotten folk in the world and there ought not to be, there are people who starve and there shouldn’t be, there are folk imprisoned in memories and pain and guilt and marriages and illness who should rather be free to life fully, there are people who can’t afford clothes for their own backs let alone their children’s backs and that is a shocking thing to let happen. Sort it.

The principle is dead straight forward. This is quite simply all there is to do as a church, a nation, a company of people, an individual. Here, and rarely anywhere else will you find Jesus. He never said he’d be found among those who wanted pews or those who didn’t, those who wanted everything sung with the organ or the piano, those who wanted Moody and Sankey or those who wanted John Bell.

But he did say, if you want to find me, look among the poor.

Which bit did the church fail to understand?

My answer? All of it.

We, the church, the supposed people of God, the followers of Christ, have forgotten that the Good News should be Good News for everyone.  If it’s not Good News for everyone then it’s not the Good News Jesus was talking about.

Any thoughts?

I’ve been thinking of posting podcasts for a while so have a look in the sidebar for last Sunday’s sermon or listen here and let me know what you think. UPDATE – or get it on iTunes!

This morning I preached on Peter’s water walking.  Most people remember that Jesus came walking on the water in the middle of a storm and Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water for a while before realising what he was doing and starting to sink.

My message was simple. If you want to walk on water you have to get out of the boat.  We all cling to our comfort zones.  We all gravitate to the places where life is a little easier and we aren’t asked to risk so much.  The thing is, those comfortable places aren’t where we are called to be.  We’re called to be out there on the water, walking in the storm.

That for me is a challenge.  I like what I like.  Stepping out into the storm is scary.