God's encouragement

Since the story of the resurrection has been known it has been an encouragement for those who are experiencing suffering, whatever its cause. There are several places in the gospels which seem to indicate that Jesus knew that he would rise again after three days. Why then was he so distressed at this time? After all, it would soon be all over! If we believe that Jesus was truly human he could not have had this knowledge and scholars believe these passages were written with the benefit of hindsight.

It can be encouraging for people to read of the experiences of how others coped with adversity two and a half thousand years ago and how Jesus did two thousand years ago, but it is also encouraging to hear stories since then and in particular, in our time. Feelings associated with difficult times are similar today to those experienced by the Psalmist, by Isaiah and by Jesus. It is good to know God is with us in these experiences now.

We may speak of the encouragement we have received through experiences of God’s action in the lives of others. These people may be seen as special, not ordinary folk like us. We are often reluctant to tell of the encouragement we have received through the experience of God’s love in our own lives even though we know it will help others because we fear being ridiculed as Isaiah was. God still wakens our ears to listen, to be strengthened, to have the words to encourage and sustain the weary. God answers our desperate prayers with encouraging reassurances that all we will need for this day will be provided.

Rev Julianne Parker 

(for full sermon see sermons page)

In exile

 

In exile,
the forcibly dispossessed people of Yahweh
receive a letter from afar.
The mad and lonely prophet instructs them to stop resisting,
to make peace with their conquerors.
Reluctant dwellers in an alien city,
they have expended many tears for Jerusalem,
and the God who dwelt in its temple.

The holy city they called home, lies ruined;
they are cut off, abandoned.
Now, the prophet tells them,
in his long-distance epistle,
their separation from those ancient stones
must not lead to despair.
They are to trust impossibly
that the strange purposes of their apparently absent God
will yet be revealed.

“Become dual citizens,”
the treasonous words of the missive urge.
“Make yourself neighbours to your enemies,
and seek their well-being;
along with that of their heathen city.
Accept offers of friendship;
build, plant, take jobs, establish businesses
and call this place home.
Fall in love, take wives, beget children
and look to the time
when you can take pleasure in your grandchildren;
you will be here for some time yet.
But it will be all right.

“Don’t forget, covenant people of God,
to pray for your adopted city,
and its people.
In this way your enemies will become your friends
and you will all benefit.
Yes, and it will be all right.”

© Ken Rookes 2013

Don't stop now

We set out on our journey

when the words of life were spoken.

We knew we had to travel;

we knew the world was broken

We knew we had a message

that would breathe a new-found hope,

we knew it would not be easy,

we trusted we would cope.

We left behind our cares,

our fortune and desire.

We gathered up our courage;

we would set the world on fire.

Or so we hoped and so we prayed,

we studied and we plodded.

We collected our resources

while the Spirit pushed and prodded.

We saw our destination

unfold just like a vision;

we knew we had a calling,

we knew we had a mission.

Good news for the poor, we cry;

good news of love and grace!

The light is coming, now it’s here,

it shines upon each face.

We journey in the darkness,

we journey in the night,

we dine upon the wine, the bread

set at the table, white.

Injustice casts its shadow,

we feel its dreadful threat;

we know that love will triumph,

that love’s not finished yet.

So we confront the cruelty

the oppression and the greed;

dig deep into our calling

and find the strength we need.

But bitterness won’t go away

and fearfulness persists;

we weaken and grow weary,

and still the call insists.

“Let us go,” with worn-out cry

we make our loud request.

“The journey is too difficult

we need a place to rest.”

“All these years we’ve journeyed

we’ve struggled on and on,

but no-one seems to notice

and no-one sings our song.

“And no-one seems to care,

the world has not been righted;

this kingdom’s too elusive,

it is so seldom sighted.

“All people should be saved by now,

and dwell in heavenly bliss!

There are not many left of us,

we can’t go on like this!

We cannot help but question,

we have to voice our doubt;

where is the gospel power,

where’s that hallelujah shout?

We didn’t really plan for this;

Ha, we didn’t plan at all.

No planning but a simple “yes,”

when caught inside love’s thrall.

We stand within the silence,

we wait for a reply.

The road ahead seems unconcerned,

the road behind asks, “Why?”

“Why?” and “What?” and “Can it be?”

“How can we know the way?”

We search inside the stillness

for a reason not to stay.

“Don’t stop now!” the call responds,

“Keep on the road, my friend!

You know that once you’ve started

you must see it to the end.

“You think you’ve made a sacrifice,

perhaps you have, that’s fine.

Your gifts of love are noted;

all gifts of love are mine.

“There’s beauty in your weariness,

there’s beauty in persistence.

There’s glory in defiant acts,

in grace, and truth’s resistance.

“The destination’s guaranteed,

don’t worry you can’t see it.

The journey is the place of truth

for those who choose to be it.

“This broken world’s still waiting

for my children to arrive,

to build the peace and bring the love;

to make it come alive.

“So don’t forsake the journey,

no, don’t give up the fight;

and don’t forget my Spirit’s yours;

walk in the Spirit’s light.

And though the way be painful,

and though the night be strong,

remember that you’re not alone;

come join the angels’ song

© Ken Rookes
I shared this at my last presbytery meeting on Tuesday. On reflection it seems to have some relevance to the Gospel reading for Sunday, being the first in Advent.