Always Hope

The way I'm thinking about church was clarified in an instant this Sunday, in the unlikely setting of an 8.00 am BCP service.  Or perhaps not so unlikely, because unlike some clergy, I find the communion service of 1662 to be a liturgy that powerfully expresses the liberality of the gospel, built as it is around the explosive declaration that "God so loved the world".  God didn't just love the 5 of us who did him a favour by turning up to the service, but the whole world, even the ones who don't seem that bothered about him. This was brought home to me by the Gospel reading (completely different to the one that non-17th century congregations were reading):  Then drew near unto him all the publicans and sinners for to hear him. And the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with them. And he spake this parable unto them, saying, What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the n...

So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem  the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David.   He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him  and was expecting a child.  While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born,   and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them. We sometimes think of the Christmas story as being tinged with stardust and a little magic, especially late on Christmas Day when the memory has been blended with Doctor Who and the Strictly Christmas special. And yes, there are angels and glory and and a star in the East. But the event itself is uncompromisingly ordinary. The blood and pain of childbirth, the everyday miracle of a baby's first breath, a young mum making the best of what she had in difficult circumstances. And it is ...

Today at Kea we're looking at Luke 10:25-37, that is, the Good Samaritan. This extraordinary story, one of the ones that would be lost to us if Luke had not recorded it, shows Jesus at his most radical. The man who asks Jesus "who is my neighbour?" is supposed to be an expert in the Torah, the law of God. But he needs a bit of help in understanding one of the two greatest commandments. In reply, Jesus tells a story of a man lying in the gutter who is ignored by two men who should have known better. If the priest and Levite were serious about their religion, they would have obeyed God's law, and crossed the road. It is left to the Samaritan, the one who by rights should have nothing to do with the law of Israel's God, to do what the law requires and help his neighbour. But who is the neighbour in the end? It's not a Jew who helps a Samaritan here, but the other way round. The Good Samaritan shows us that Jesus calls us to reach out way beyond our boundaries to ...