Bottles of show wine

The classic interpretation of this parable goes like this. It is the history story of our salvation in four, easy to understand, any idiot priest could get it.

First, it looks back at Creation and the choosing of the land of Israel: “There was a landowner who planted a vineyard… put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watch-tower.” From the very beginning, God began to reveal himself and his plan of salvation through his caring act of creation. The second part of the story involves the sending of numerous prophets, including Moses, Issac, and Jacob right up to John the Baptist: “When vintage time drew near, he sent his servants to the tenants to obtain his produce…” The prophets were men of God’s word, calling the people back to the Law and the covenant, but usually with little success and often to their own peril. So we get “But the tenants seized the servants and one they beat, another they killed, and a third they stoned.” Which is of course Jesus taking a very thinly veiled swipe at the Jewish authorities and their treatment of those who have gone before him. Not surprisingly we can almost hear the leaders blood pressure rising and their hearts beating angrily as they realise that Jesus is really talking about them.

Chapter three; God sends a final messenger: “Finally, he sent his son to them…” The Incarnation, God becoming flesh ushers in the final age, in which redemption is offered to everyone. Or as someone far more eloquent than I put it. ‘The church of God has everything to do with everybody.’ … ‘The church of God… has everything… to do with everybody.’

The  fourth and final part refers to The End and is presented as a question: “What will the owner of the vineyard do to those tenants when he comes?” The religious leaders of the day condemn themselves with their own words

They said to The Master ‘He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.’

And you see there is also a transference here from the religious leaders of the day to The Master himself.  The succession of the Kingdom from Israel to the Christian Church. But more than that, there is a broadening and there is a deepening. The Kingdom is broadened to encompass the entire world, and it is deepened in that belonging to it is not a matter of geography or grace. The life of the family of God is not found in human genealogies, but in the gift of Trinitarian life through the Incarnate Son of God

And that four-chapter story is right and good and proper. Usually, the preacher will go on to say that we are now the tenants and it is up to us to produce some yummy, high-quality show wine. Further, we need to be on the lookout for those who approach us and are the people sent by God to challenge us, to inspire us and maybe even to tick us off.  I am sure that God continues to send people to our vineyards who see us with fresh eyes, to offer us a different insight and perspective. And while it might make us feel a little uncomfortable, it is an opportunity for us to try again (maybe) in a different way, with different gifts.

I would add the following insights for your reflection.

We hear much about the housing shortage in the media… of landowners and tenants and we hear much about the rights of folk to housing. What if we turned the whole thing on its head and said that this was not a matter of landowners and tenants and rights but rather it was simply a matter of …responsibility? I wonder whether that would change the debate and the dialogue?

Both from a landlord's and a tenant's perspective there is a lot of trust and a lot of waiting around. God has entrusted us with a humbling amount of responsibility to produce the wine for the good of all.

And yes we watch, we wait, we pray, but everyone has a place in the vineyard, everyone has a job to do and everyone has a place at the table to enjoy the fruits of our work.

Our fruits will be ones of trust patience and prayer. Our attitude at the front gate of the vineyard is to be gregarious and welcoming. When we accomplish this, the better our wine will be and the more plentiful the harvest will be.

A story and a question to finish with.

Most of you will know that before I went to college I had the marvellous job of being a tour guide at a winery and I was astonished to learn how long it took to make a very good bottle of wine. Years and years. The vintages that I was there for, would not be enjoyed until after I had left the winery and was safely ensconced in college.

Which is a jolly nice, but not-so-subtle way of asking... In a couple of decades' time, what sort of wine will we have left for future generations?

And so we came to Adventure Bay

True story. There really is a delightful place on Bruny Island called Adventure Bay. The tourist spiel goes as follows.

‘There are many things to do in Adventure Bay Bruny Island such as water sports, fishing, bushwalking, scenic boat cruises and visiting the delicious raspberry farm. The caravan, shacks and relaxed, safe beach make it ideal for young families.

So if you are looking for theme parks or Scottish-sounding family restaurants you will be disappointed. We found ourselves at this appropriately named place around lunchtime and with our tummies nagging at us we thought that we would skip the non-existent 4-star bistro and try the local cafe. This place has had a whopping four (4) reviews posted on a well-known Trip Advisor site.

The decor was simple, humble and cheerful. The staff were hardworking with no obvious uniform but polite as all heck. We felt welcomed and cosseted.

The menu was different, there was no parma or steak sanga here, but intriguing items piqued our interest. So we ordered and we waited with a sense of adventure and anticipation. The food when it arrived was plated and served with gentle aplomb. We tucked in.

We were treated to an adventure as wave after wave of taste played across our palette. It was one of those special times when you really didn’t want it to end but quietly hoped that somehow the experience could last a very long time.

My hope for you is that you too might well have found an ‘Adventure Bay’. A place you didn’t specifically choose but nevertheless you were there and it found you. We are fed, nurtured and sustained by the most unlikely people in the most unlikely places, with the most unlikely gifts. Long may the adventures continue.

Pay attention… we are connected

It’s around this time of year that pet blessings abound and that we reflect, and give thanks for the life, work and witness of St. Francis. St. Francis is associated with pet blessings because he understood the connectivity of all nature which includes our relationship with every other human being. He understood connectivity. He knew what it was about and he practiced it. But it's an elusive thing. You can’t go to the deli section of the supermarket and ask for half a kilo of connectivity, so let me explain.

The best example I can think of to explain this connectivity business is to ask you to think of the closeness, the relationship, that you have with your pets. And if you happen to be a hard-working farmer, then the connection you have with your livestock. If your pet or livestock is hurt, then you are hurt too. In this part of western Victoria it is a very easy thing to understand and it a very delicious thing to enjoy.

St. Francis understood this vocation of connectivity very well and he lived it in his daily life. He knew how connected he was to creatures, and to nature. Thus he is famous for calling the moon his sister and the sun his brother.

But his sense of connection also extended to his fellow human beings. There is the famous story that whilst walking one day St. Francis and his companion came across a poor man along the road. Seeing the man’s misery, Francis was moved with compassion. He took off the cloak he was wearing and said to his travelling companion, “It is fitting that we should restore this cloak to this poor man, for it is his, and I accepted it only until I should find someone poorer than myself.” His companion thought this was ridiculous but Francis persisted, “I should be counted a thief by God were I to withhold that which I wear,… from him who has greater need of it than I.”

St. Francis understood that he was connected to the poor man on the side of the road and so he behaved in a certain way and did something about it.

But do you see there is something else going on here? Our connectivity calls us to respond by action and the best example I can think of today is the way we choose to behave towards our pets and animals. We choose to make sure that our pets have food and water. These simple things require action from us and require us to behave in a certain way. When our creatures are poorly, we make sure that they get the proper treatment from a vet. When they need a walk or the company of another animal or simply some one on one time, then we do something about it.

In a year where we have been clearly reminded of our interconnectedness and our responsibilities to one another, we must not forget our interconnectedness and our responsibility to creation – God's good gift to us. Our care for the Earth is expressed mostly in small things, commitments to change that may go unnoticed. Our connectivity requires us to behave in certain ways. It’s not just an academic exercise. Our responsibility for our pets, for creation and for each other must be expressed in tangible, physical, observable ways.

For a little while we are placed upon this earth and for a little while we have the opportunity to enhance and enrich not just Mother Earth, but also each other especially like St. Francis those who are less fortunate than ourselves. It’s why we choose to physically donate to Anglicare and why we choose to recycle.

For this fragile tiny blue planet in a vast universe is our mutual home and there is a nobility in the duty to care for it through our little daily actions.”

Our vocation of connectivity or interconnectedness is a wonderful vocation and a fine responsibility. When we are faithful in our vocation and bless others and creation through our actions, then we will find in turn that we too are blessed and united and enriched.

The first step is to open our eyes and pay attention.

When we pay attention, the Earth will teach us to understand harmony and balance, give and take.

When we pay attention, we will be inspired again by the audacious hope of all green things.

When we pay attention, we will understand God's steadiness, constancy in change and the mysteries of becoming.

When we pay attention, we will marvel at God's unseen order – the interconnection of all living things.

When we pay attention, we will know others to be our brothers and sisters, children of one common home.

Let us pay attention to the earth and pray.

God of all Creation, through your goodness you have given us the Earth as our home. We are grateful for all the wonders of the world which so clearly proclaim your glory. Teach us how to pay attention that we might learn from the natural world. Teach us how to care for each other as we care for creation. We ask these things through the intercession of Francis of Assisi and in the name of your Son, Jesus. Amen

The Cook and the Painter.

It was one of these smulchy TV cooking shows with exotic recipes against splendid vista of an exotic country. Our master chef was chatting to a painter who did spectacular landscapes.

Towards the end, when the meal had sumptuously been prepared and probably devoured by the film crew, there was an intriguing little exchange.

The Chef said ‘I wish I was a painter like you’ and the painter replied ‘I wish I was a chef like you’. It was a tender moment to conclude the programme and touching in its own way but it did remind me of a little trap that is very easy to fall into. I know this trap well because I have often fallen into it myself and the trap is this.

That we become so bedazzled and besotted by someone else's talents that we forget and are blind to our own gifts. This happens in all sorts of ways, with all sorts of people in all walks of life. Sometimes it happens on the sporting field, sometimes in the thoughtfulness of another and sometimes in the physical attractiveness of another.

We can easily spiral so far downward that we are oblivious to everything except the fact that we don’t measure up to our own self-imposed, unreachable goals.

The trick I suspect is to admire the beauty in another and say ‘Now isn’t that wonderful’! Maybe it can inspire you, maybe it can teach you. But then we move on to celebrate our own attributes and gifts and we all have them. It matters not if you are a whizz-bang shoe polisher, a fantastic edge trimmer, or an adroit wordsmith. Every gift is infinitely precious and something to be rejoiced in. The world is chockers of amazingly gifted people and you are one of them.

Today's parable of the workers in the vineyard has much to teach us and the first thing that I want to offer is that God’s grace is not a business. It’s not transactional. I’m terribly sorry to say that God does not have an EFTPOS machine, nor does he take MasterCard, Visa or Amex. He doesn’t even take cheques. Nor does he have shares in the stock exchange or bonds and life annuities. You cannot collect loyalty points or a free cuppa after coming to church 10 times in a row. All God wants is … You

For, God’s currency, God’s economy is in a different dimension. It is a way of living. In God’s economy, there is only giving and accepting. No strings, no contracts, not even a barter system.

It is a living, breathing, working, loving relationship where we are invited to work in the vineyard but never forced, coerced, bullied or harangued.

The Master invites us because He wants us there and we are completely free to say ‘Yes please’ or ‘No Thank you’. Sometimes folk will say ‘I’d like to think about it’. Sometimes they might come and work for a little while then disappear. Some will fall in love with the workers and the Master and some will leave disgruntled because they don’t like the way the business operates or the other workers look different, or speak different or … as in the parable of the vineyard, the boss is far too generous with those who come and work alongside us.

God is equally generous to all who sign on and it’s not a competition.

And this theme of ‘it’s not a competition’ is something clergy need to be reminded of. ‘My parish has more people, more dollars, more sparkle, more tech stuff, than Rev X down the road. Or within a parish system, Centre Y has more people worshipping than Centre Z. Every soul, no matter where they turn up, is of infinite value and they are incalculably precious in the eyes of the Master. For whatever it’s worth, some of my own most profound experiences of the nearness of God have happened when there were very, very few people with me. Perhaps that might also be true for you.

The sin of presumptuousness is always very close and a very easy trap to fall into. It sneaks up on you and before you know it you’re the one who is absolutely sure about who should get what reward and why. Instead, we should simply roll up our sleeves, get out our secateurs and get on with it…

What else is in this parable?

Notice the astonishment of the workers who clocked on at 9:00 a.m. Sometimes I suspect because of the familiarity of the liturgy, or because we are busy or for a multiplicity of other reasons, we do not allow ourselves the space and energy to be astonished by God’s action and generosity. I think about a little child as they grow up and the sense of awe and wonder of this marvellous island planet in its rich diversity of life in so many forms. The privilege, responsibility and thrill of human relationships

Where and when did we lose that sense of wonder and awesomeness? Did familiarity wear away the gloss? Perhaps.  Maybe we just did not give ourselves the physical, psychological and emotional space and tools to capture what we so desperately need to sustain and feed us. So I would encourage you to simply allow yourself to be astonished. Or at the very least allow the space, time and the opportunity to be astonished and fascinated on a regular and frequent basis.

There does come a time when the day's work finishes at the vineyard. You would be acutely aware that our time is limited on this side of the grave. We should take advantage of time to produce lashings of luscious grapes. We are to use our time wisely, efficiently, appropriately and faithfully. Our time is not our own no matter how alluring the sentiment is because our time and our energy and our gifts really belong to Him, who gave them to us in the first place.

The parable also has something to say to our society. You see, a denarius was the minimum daily wage that a worker in Jesus’ day needed to survive. So in the story, the employer simply couldn’t bear the idea of paying his workers less than a living wage.

Consider that for a moment…. What would it be like if every workplace not only valued diligent work but also cared about how every family was living?…

Finally, in the parable, there are three groups of people. There are those who work for a long time, those who work for a short time and the Master winemaker himself. Aspire not just to be a labourer, but also to be the winemaker. Seeing how generous God is with us requires that we too be generous with others. Be the winemaker who is not in competition with anyone.

The one who is always gracious, always generous, always inviting others. Ask the Lord of the harvest that you may have a heart like his; one that anticipates with hope the coming of others into the vineyard and rejoices in the wonderful benefits that the Lord desires to pour out on every, single, solitary soul.

We might be sorely tempted to compare ourselves with others but the very good news brothers and sisters is simply this.

I was prattling on about a recollection I have of the isle of Skye and the flavour of the memory was as potent and palatable as the here and now. After all my words were expended, the patient, sage gentleman eyed me carefully and completely unrehearsed and without any premeditation, offered the wise titbit for my edification.

‘You don’t miss places, you have fond memories of them.’ At the time it sounded great and I’m sure that it is true.

To miss a place poignantly and painfully is a bit lopsided. You’re so focussed on the ache within you, that it subsumes the splendid memories that you have. The balance is all out of whack. In an ideal world ‘the missing’ and ‘the memories’ should feed off each other. Deep within you, they should dance with each other. They should swirl gracefully around and perfectly complement each other.

I would want to add another element to this waltz. What is also significant is the people. It is the people that make it, the encounters that find you. The stranger who makes you welcome, that funny person who helps you to get on the right train and the concierge who smiles as you approach the front desk of the hotel. The cabbie who makes engaging chit-chat and has a funny story to tell.

The waiter who unobtrusively somehow knows your every whim and your favourite beverage. That relative or friend picks up the conversation again as if you only left yesterday when the truth is that it has been years and you have a deluge of grey hairs and new lines on your face to prove it.

By the time my cup was empty with this gent, another memory had been seamlessly crafted and one more marvellous human being had enriched me.

Peter’s nemesis / Our nemesis

There is a curious little Q and A session at the start of today’s gospel.

Peter goes to Jesus and asks

‘Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.”

Peter thinks that he is being very generous and magnanimous. Seven is the perfect number after all but he learns that forgiveness must come from the heart, not a calculator.

The King James version reads if my brother sins against me, but our more modern translations have

another member of the church.

And I think this change in language is right. The capacity of us to be annoyed by another is not limited to gender. If we are brutally honest we must fess up and say that people of both genders sometimes annoy us.

But there is something else going on here and the change in language reflects a deeper truth. Peter did not have in mind issues that affected the integrity of the whole community, but interpersonal differences and hurts. There is a nemesis, an individual,  lurking around in the background here. Yet, even unresolved hurts between individuals can affect the openness and warmth of any community. So that when one person in the community, religious or town community, annoys or sins against the other, it is not just the two people that are affected. When sin occurs, when there is disgruntlement and argy-bargy, then the whole fabric of the community can fray at the edges, or worse, become unravelled and it can mean a lot of hard stitching up and patience to knit things together again.

We learn that forgiveness is not just a one-way action from one individual towards another individual. There are more people involved here than we might think.

Forgiveness is also reciprocal. It flows both ways from one individual to another and back again. And more than that, forgiveness is reliant. Ie. Our forgiveness from God is reliant on the speed and depth of the forgiveness we offer to others. That's what the parable of the King is all about. And there is a rather chilling challenge right at the end of the gospel which says

Forgive your brother or sister from…   your …  heart. It is terrifyingly easy to utter the words of forgiveness from our lips, it is a different thing altogether to mean it from our heart and often I suspect the audible words come first and the forgiveness from the heart comes much later with time and a patient, conscious effort.

It is why the Lord’s prayer is something we need to say frequently and it is why the fifth petition is something we need to ponder and reflect on consistently.

And there is a solemn warning here to all of us and especially clergy that we ought to be so very careful when we kick things upstairs and seek clarification from above, because the answer we are given may not be the one we wanted or expected or hoped for and then of course you have nowhere to go.

I wonder if Peter regretted asking Jesus about his nemesis. 

I am intrigued as to who Peter’s friendly irritant was. A close friend, a fellow worshipper, a relative and what exactly were they doing to annoy Peter? And if you are very brave you might like to imagine yourself as Peter going to our Lord and asking the same question about someone you know so painfully well.

Of course, what Jesus is suggesting is not a larger ledger upon which we can keep track of offences. He’s not requiring an additional number of gracious acts. Instead, he is suggesting there is no need for a ledger at all. That we should cheerfully chuck the ledger out altogether.

The things of the kingdom of heaven are not quantifiable. They are not measurable. Things like love, forgiveness, compassion, joy, and peace do not fit into a mathematical formula and nor do they have a use-by date. There must never be a time when forgiveness runs dry and is all gone.

Perhaps our nemesis is not just a person. Perhaps the thing that also continues to annoy us, frustrate us and irritate us, is that whinging, nagging voice that says that we are not quite there yet. That we haven’t quite got this forgiveness business right and smooth and perfect.

And if we are honest we can say that there are times when we are a nemesis to another person. That we too are the irritants to others and that we can aggravate and bother other people.  And perhaps God in his patient loving, is a nemesis to us. That he will continue to love and cajole and harangue and persist and call us back frequently and with verve, and while we might be disappointed in ourselves, isn’t marvellous that He never gives up on us.

Pin the tail on the donkey

An early childhood memory came bubbling to the surface the other day. It was a child's birthday party and we were playing the classic game of pin the tail on the donkey.

You know the one where you take it in turns to be blindfolded and are then given "a tail"  to pin on a picture of a donkey on the wall.

The results were bemusing, to say the least, and wildly hilarious at best. The tail might finish up pinned to the donkey’s mouth, ear, or right foreleg, in fact anywhere except on the posterior of the creature where it should be affixed. It was great fun and the memory came with a happy little buzz.

As we get older our eyesight can grow dim physically and we frequently wear bits of glass in front of our eyes to help us read literature and enhance our vision.

Sadly though, we can also develop some cataracts over our vision of other people. We don’t see them as clearly as we should. Our vision of them is a little blurry because we might see them through the lens of prejudice or the distortion of past hurts and history. Not all clergy are bad apples. Some are peachy mangoes. Not all who happen to grow up in a particular culture are disappointments.

I have had the undeserved privilege of travelling to foreign countries and I hope that when I leave the natives will say ‘Wow! Those Australians were well-mannered, respectful, friendly, and easy to get on with!’

For when we see others through our own blurry filters we only cheat ourselves of a potential relationship and friendship where all can be enriched and enhanced.

In doing so we are both the blindfolded and the donkey. The creature who has its tail in the wrong place.

Of Frank and Fr. Oulton

Most of you will know that I once had a go at being a school chaplain. I was a spectacular disaster and after 4 long tortuous years, by very mutual consent, I wrote a pleading letter to the then Bishop of Ballarat asking if it might be possible to return to parish life. Fortuitously a parish had just become vacant and with great glee I rushed back into a rectory.

Years passed and our daughter Jacky happened to meet a former student of mine.

‘Oh…’ said Jacky’s friend. ‘You’re Fr. Oulton’s daughter.’ Poor Jacky wasn’t really quite sure how to answer this, but it would be a sin for a vicar’s daughter to lie now wouldn’t it?

‘Oh… I remember the day he came into our classroom and asked... ‘If Fr. Oulton stood on the table right now and started shooting up the furniture, would that make him a bad man?’

I, of course, cannot remember any of this, but the educational value of this question to bright, young, inquiring minds is highly questionable; so yes, it probably was something I said.

I think the moral of the story is that even good people can sometimes lose it, and do the wrong thing. An error in judgment or the spilling over of anger does not necessarily mean that a person is intrinsically evil and it certainly does not mean they are ever beyond the loving clasp of the Master.

Fast forward an even greater number of years to 2023 where I am reflecting with our confirmation candidates about the second station of the cross in Christchurch Hamilton. The 2nd station is the one where we reflect on Jesus receiving his cross. All the while Jesus knows what this piece of timber is for and he knows what it will do to him.

In the carving, there is a gentleman giving Jesus His cross and when I thought about it I came to understand that there would have been someone, probably a man, who physically gave Jesus his cross.

The astute and insightful question from our budding confirmation student was

‘Was the man who gave Jesus his cross a bad man?’

You see the understandable logic which says that of course, he was. This guy played a pivotal role in Jesus’ crucifixion. He was instrumental in causing The Master's suffering and death. Of course he was wicked.

But upon more mature reflection I would also reason this way.

That for this guy… let’s call him Frank, for Frank, it was just another day at the office. Handing out crosses willy nilly to every passing criminal was just what he got paid to do. He probably wasn’t aware of exactly who it was that he was giving a cross to. It was yet another poor schmuck on his way to a painful death. Frank was just another little guy in a really large story. Probably the most enduring and enormous story ever.

You see, I hope, the parallel between Fr. David going ballistic in the classroom on a hot Friday afternoon and Frank on another Friday afternoon. Neither are beyond hope or redemption.

But there is something else going on in the carving. Often with religious art, the artist has the people in the scene looking straight out at us. The viewer. This is an excellent reminder that Holy people are watching out for us and they are watching over us. Not in a menacing, checking up on us way, but in a way of care, protection and love.

But not so in our carving. The artist has Frank and the Master looking directly at each other. Almost gazing adoringly at each other. The moment is almost tender and intimate.

Further, when you look closely, The Master is clutching his cross tightly and holding it himself. It’s almost as if he is saying Thank you to Frank. Thank you, you are playing a pivotal role in your own salvation and that of the world. You may not know it now. You will never know it on this side of your grave Frank, but what you are doing is important today, even when you think it is ghastly and reprehensible.

Frank was one the little ones in the gospel story. We know what he did, but we don’t know if he said anything, if he had family, if he had a second job. Hec! We don’t even know if his name really was Frank, or Fred, or Felix.

It would be easy to despise him for what he did, but there is a cautionary line in today’s gospel about the little ones like Frank.

Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones; for, I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven.

Which is of course a lovely echo of the look that is being exchanged between Frank and The Master.

We all might do some crazy Fr. Oulton things from time to time. We all might do some unwitting Frank things from time to time, not knowing that our repetitive drudgery is really part of God’s greater plan. There is hope for the Fr. Oultons of the world. There is hope for the Franks of this world. There is hope for everyone sitting here and there is hope for those who are not with us today.

For our ultimate vocation is to be one of God’s little ones and with the angels to gaze upon Him. To gaze upon Him who longs to gaze upon us, who is in fact, already gazing upon us and who will do so forever and ever amen.

Vocation = Anticipation

I have always enjoyed the story of Moses and the burning bush.

Moses had killed a man back in Egypt and escaped before Pharaoh and his henchmen could track him down and put him in solitary confinement. Moses gets a cruisy job with his father-in-law Jethro looking after the sheep in the top paddock, and you would have thought that would be the end of the story and Moses would have lived happily ever after. All is perfect and polished until one day…

Moses comes to the mountain of Horeb and sees a burning bush. But all is not as it seems. While there are flames, the wood is not consumed. His curiosity piqued, Moses naively says to himself

‘I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.’.

Of course it's really an invitation for Moses to do an impossible task, it’s just that He doesn’t know it yet. The next thing you know, Moses is handed a job description to go back to Egypt, confront Pharaoh and release his brothers and sisters from slavery.

Moses understandably puts up every argument as to why this is not a good idea.

‘Who am I?’ says Moses. ‘I’m a person of no consequence.’ But God responds with the assurance that he will always be with Moses.

‘I don’t know who you are, Lord. Who will I say has sent me?’

So God reveals himself. ‘I am who I am.’

But, says Moses … Suppose they don’t believe me. What happens then? And that’s when we get the whole serpent/staff trick together with the leprous hand miracle.

But then Moses points out that he’s no good at public speaking. Maybe he had a speech impediment, a stutter or never came top in his class in English. ‘I am slow of speech and slow of tongue.’

God has to point out that he created the tongue and the mind and that really Moses… you’ll be fine.

Having run out of excuses Moses is left with just a simple plea. ‘Please send someone else.’

By now God is becoming cantankerous.

“Then the anger of the Lord was kindled against Moses and he said, ‘What of your brother Aaron the Levite? I know that he can speak fluently;’” so Aaron becomes Moses’ wingman.

At one level the story is about vocation. How we are drawn to a particular way of life, a particular path, a specific person and outwardly, like the burning bush we are curious and intrigued. It’s only later that we discover that there is actually more going on here than what we first thought.

And sometimes, like Moses, when we discover what the job really entails, we quickly put up every excuse, every flimsy reason and yet… and yet… God uses our misgivings, our ineptitude, our own spectacular disasters to his glory and to bring his purposes about, even when and especially when we don’t want the job. Even when we are sure that there must be more competent candidates who have applied for this career opportunity.

On the way, like Moses, we will discover who God is. He will reveal Himself in ways that are often unorthodox and very different.

Remember the burning bush that got Moses into all this trouble in the first place? As Moses approaches the bush, I strongly suspect that there was a flutter of anticipation as he saw something that was new, unusual and unexpected.

Fr. Glenn Loughrey put it this way.

 Alongside vocation is anticipation. Being Christian invites you to be anticipatory to be constantly looking for what is coming next. Anticipation looks for the new, the unusual the unexpected, and the not seen before and engages with the ongoing nature of creation as a never-ending action of God of which we are a part.
To play our part we are to be ready for what is next and what we haven’t seen before. It is a mindset of possibilities not one of passive participation
We need to be active participants engaged in an ongoing seeing and speaking with the divine, with ourselves and with others.
Anticipation allows us to grasp opportunities.

Sometimes we see and then choose to ignore. We can do this because we forget that God operates outside the of Church building and some of his finest angels are not with us in the pews.

Remember this from Satara on the 23rd of July.

“Dr. Williams suggested that in an increasingly secular world, although churches are emptier, people continue to be baffled by natural phenomena, stopped in their tracks by something so strange, and exhilarated at unknown prospects. In his words, this was God continuing to make Himself known to humankind, albeit in subtler ways – or unconventional ways”. While God operates inside the Church is it not also possible, nay probable, that he works outside the Church? I mean … When you’re God you can operate wherever and whenever you like.

So not only in bread and wine, but also in a loving heart a teardrop on a cheek, the spontaneous outburst of laughter, the child kicking autumn leaves. Things that are simple and yet breathtakingly profound.

We are called to look for him, to experience him in the unlikely, the unusual, things not seen before. Like a burning bush, the smile of an infant and especially within you and within me. These are God’s gilt-edged invitations to confront our own ‘pharaohs’ and bring liberty to all God’s children.

Whats App?

One of the new words in our vocabulary is the word ‘App’. Once upon a time, these things did not exist. They were just a twinkle in some millionaire's eye.

Now these little blighters are all over my phone and my iPad. They have come a long way and a friend of mine was showing me a new app that is connected to his car.

From the comfort of his couch, he knows such things as tyre pressure, battery and fuel level, distance to empty, as well as any doors that are open or closed, locked or unlocked and whether the boot is open or closed. Remarkable!

I’m also aware of other apps that play games and help you with your spelling, grammar and maths. Apparently, there are also others that are of a less salubrious nature. If there is a need for it, then there is an app for it.

There are lots of great things about apps. They are a big help to us in all sorts of ways to do all sorts of things. The manufacture and production of them employs countless hard working people right around the world.

So with so much going for them is there a downside? You’d have to look pretty hard to find one but I think I have discovered a temptation to spend too much time and energy gazing into the screen and tapping or clicking. Our energy and concentration can be hoovered up by what is on the other side of the screen and we forget to look at the faces and the scenery around us. These are just as important, more authentic and they don’t ‘crash’ or nick off with your identity. In this digital age of the screen, we must never forget that the mirror is our best app ever.

Whats App? You!