Sermon for Sunday 6th July 2025

Isaiah 66:10-14 and Psalm 66:1-9 * Galatians 6:(1-6), 7-16 * Luke 10:1-11, 16-20

Most of you here this morning will know that for most of my working life I have been a primary school Head Teacher and I have absolutely loved being in the classroom and supporting children to become the best they can be in so many different ways. The bright little sparks who know everything there is to know, the shy retiring types who need coaxing out of their shells and the rambunctious attention seekers who simply must have your full attention – they are all just fantastic!

As your skills develop as a teacher you learn many different strategies to help individuals focus on what they need to be doing and to regulate their more ‘exuberant’ behaviours – and sometimes these strategies can result in unexpected surprises. Let me tell you about little Lewis. A little stick of dynamite with freckles and shock of bright red hair – full of energy and enthusiasm – a happy-go-lucky chap who, when he needed to tell you something, just could not wait for others to finish their conversations with you.

I remember one day when I was talking to Lewis’ teacher and he shot towards us across the classroom obviously eager to tell me something. He tried to interrupt the teacher as she was talking to me. Now one of the strategies that you learn is to acknowledge the presence of such a pupil without directly speaking to them – letting them know you are present with them, but that they need to wait until you are finished to get your full attention.

As Lewis was blurting out something about his dad’s cows, I placed my hand gently on top of his head, but continued to listen to the teacher. Lewis, knowing that I was coming to him next, stopped talking and waited. After the teacher had finished, I turned to Lewis and he told me all about his dad’s latest calf. I took my hand away from Lewis’ head to find it covered in a sticky, thick liquid. “Oh goodness Lewis” I said, “I’ve got your hair gel all over my hand”. “That’s not ‘air gel” Lewis corrected, “It’s nit shampoo…. mi mam drowned me in it this mornin’ – me ‘eads crawlin’!    

Teachers know that being close to a pupil holds a lot of power. Good teachers move around the room a lot, getting close to pupils as they work. The teacher’s nearness does two things: it raises a child’s level of concern enough to encourage them to pay closer attention to what they are doing, but more importantly it also makes the teacher more available to answer questions and offer children encouragement and support.

Closeness to the teacher offers safety, and at the same time it holds children accountable for what they are doing. Closeness to the teacher increases the probability that the pupil will learn. And maybe this is why we almost always see the disciples staying really close to Jesus. He holds them accountable, but at the same time he offers them safety.

But of course, at some point, pupils have to leave the safety of the school they know. P7s and High school leavers across our Highlands have done that this week. They have to take the lessons they’ve learned on into the next stage of their lives and practice those lessons on their own. The safety net of the school and people they know is gone.

Last week, the gospel reading set for the Sunday, saw Jesus beginning his long journey to Jerusalem. His face was set with determination to accomplish his mission. We saw his disciples, James and John, fail in their first attempt as the advance team for that mission. Instead of reaching out to the Samaritan village effectively, they were ready to call down fire from heaven to destroy it.

So, you’d think Jesus might want to change his strategy because maybe his pupils aren’t quite ready to leave the classroom. But instead of having a re-think, rather Jesus expands the same strategy. Instead of a couple of disciples, he sends seventy (or in some translations 72) ahead on the road to announce that the kingdom of God is near.

So here we are in our gospel this week, traveling toward Jerusalem as Jesus sends an advance party to the places he plans to go. He tells them to offer healing and peace, and to announce that the Kingdom of God had come near.

It sounds like a contradiction: Jesus sending his followers … ahead of him. You’d think he’d have them working as the clean-up crew, but instead, he sends his followers out ahead, to heal and offer peace.

Would it not be better for Jesus to go first and for the others to follow? Wouldn’t the disciples be more readily welcomed if Jesus had gone on ahead, performed a few miracles and explained that he’d deputised them to do likewise? Wouldn’t a showier display of power get people’s attention and move the cause of salvation ahead with greater speed and efficiency?

It seems a little bit backwards, but this is the order of things that Jesus chooses: sending an advance team of 70 or so followers. This is how the disciples become the apostles – 70 or so people who are given the task of spreading peace, healing the sick and announcing the Kingdom of God.

Each Sunday, I usually welcome you to worship with the Apostle Paul’s words, “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” This kind of greeting or peace is exactly what Jesus taught his disciples to offer. But notice that this kind of peace is never wasted. It rests where it is welcome. If it isn’t welcome, it returns to the one who offers it. God’s peace means wholeness is constant.

When Jesus sent out the seventy, he warned them that the work they were to do, this Kingdom work, might not always be easy. We might consider that he made it even more difficult with the instructions he gave: take nothing with you, accept whatever hospitality is shown to you, and don’t go looking for the softest bed or the best cook in town.

In other words, allow yourselves to become vulnerable and trust in God to provide for your needs. When people welcome you, receive their hospitality with grace. And isn’t it interesting that Jesus expects hospitality from the same people who will be the recipients of the disciples’ ministry?

Instead of thinking of themselves as the givers of grace, Jesus is telling the disciples to receive grace from the very people to whom they will offer God’s peace and healing. Vulnerability and humility are to be the marks of true discipleship and apostleship.

And therefore such vulnerability is important to Christ’s mission: opposition to that mission is a given. Not everyone is going to want to hear this good news.

“Sometimes,” Jesus tells them, “your message will not be received very well. When people don’t welcome you, move on. But whether they welcome you or not, the Kingdom of God has come near, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

When Jesus tells us that the Kingdom of God has come near, he says “near,” not “soon.” You can reach out and touch it, it’s so close to you.

This is the power of closeness: When the kingdom of God is near, you get a front row seat to watch it at work. When the kingdom of God is near, you are empowered to be the kingdom to others. When the kingdom of God is near, your own weakness and vulnerability are exposed. But Jesus says, “Go anyway. Heal and proclaim the nearness of the kingdom.

But my friends, we need each other to fulfil Christ’s call on our lives. Jesus sent out his followers two-by-two because he knew how important it is to have others around you on who you can depend.

Being ‘church’ together holds us accountable for keeping the work going – just by being present with one another.

We must offer encouragement when other’s need it most, when we recognise that they are feeling weary, and when we feel rejected and that our work is in vain. Being church together helps us to stay focused on our mission: to offer healing, to spread peace and to share the good news that the Kingdom of God has come near.

Jesus sends us out into the world like sheep in the midst of wolves, making ourselves vulnerable, allowing ourselves to be touched by the need around us. He gives us authority to act in his name, encouraging one another, rejoicing that our names are written in heaven, where we will feast at Our Lord’s Table in the company of all the saints. As we anticipate that joy, Jesus invites you to his table.

Come to this sacred table, not because you must, but because you may; come to testify not that you are righteous, but that you sincerely love our Lord Jesus Christ and desire to be his true disciples; come not because you are strong, but because you are weak; not because you have any claim on the grace of God, but because in your weakness and sin you stand in constant need of God’s mercy and help; come, not to express an opinion, but to seek God’s presence and pray for his Spirit.

Come, for the Kingdom of God has come near to you, and Our Lord Jesus Christ invites you to be part of it.

Sermon for the Feast of St Peter and St Paul

Readings – Ezekiel 34.11-16 Psalm 125 2 Tim 4.1-8, 17-18 John 21.15-19

Today is the feast of St Peter and St Paul – two of the great names in the church – and I wonder what you know about each of them?

One of the first times I think I every heard their names mentioned together was in the children’s rhyme –

Two little dickie birds, sitting on a wall,

One called Peter, one called Paul,

Fly away Peter, fly away Paul,

Come back Peter, come back Paul.

Having spent a little bit of time researching the origins and meaning of this little rhyme, I have very little, save that the words imply that ‘birds of a feather, flock together’ – so Peter and Paul, followers of Christ would indeed flock together (though we know they sometimes appeared to disagree about some aspects of the faith).

And I only know one joke which features both Peter and Paul –

How did Peter and Paul cut down trees?

They used the axe of the apostles! (I can hear you groaning now)!

In the bible, we find many writings attributed to St. Paul but you know, it is worth remembering that he did not know he was writing what we now regard as Holy Scripture.  The Gospel writers had some sense that they were writing to others and sharing the story of Jesus from their perspective.  But St. Paul – and    St. Peter, for that matter, were writing letters to churches and to individuals.  They did not even think that these would be letters that would be read by people two thousand years later.

All that being said, there is much to these letters that are timeless.  They are thoughts – dare I say, at times, wisdom, that can be read by us with the understanding that they are as relevant to Christians living in 2025 as they were to Christians living only decades after Jesus walked on this earth.

As I read the Epistle (our New Testament reading), which St. Paul wrote to St. Timothy, I was struck with how the words really are timeless. 

St. Paul writes: “I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom:  preach the word, be urgent in season and out of season, convince, rebuke, and exhort, be unfailing in patience and in teaching.”

At first, many of us might be tempted to say, “Well I don’t preach sermons – so that bit of St Paul’s writing must only be for Fr. Simon and other clergy.”  But you, that is an easy cop-out.  

I remember a dear priest friend of mine saying once in a sermon that our very lives may actually be the only sermon that some people ever get to experience. Now,  that is a sobering thought – but if you think about it, it’s true.  

One of the most popular reasons that people who do not attend church give for not coming is  “They are a bunch of hypocrites!”  They notice when our lives do resemble our rhetoric.  So, each and every one of us here today preach a sermon through out everyday actions and behaviours – in the very lives that we lead.

And what about St. Paul’s words, “…be urgent in season and out of season, convince, rebuke, and exhort, be unfailing in patience and in teaching”?  He is telling us that living the life of a Christian is not an easy one and that because there are so many different kinds of people in the world, we must be aware that the way in which we deliver the message of Jesus Christ to others is not “one size fits all”.  

There are some who need to be convinced.  There are others who need to be rebuked.  And there are still others who need to be exhorted.  And all this teaching must be done with patience – which, again, is not an easy thing. 

St. Paul continues, “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves, teachers to suit their own likings and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander into myths.”

Life and its choices are certainly much easier if we can surround ourselves with people whose opinions are just like ours.  This teaching of St. Paul reminds us that we cannot be so easy to think that we alone know the will of God in Christ.  We must be willing to examine our own lives and choices to be sure that we have not grown “itching ears”.  

This is one of those teachings which I believe should be paired with the words of Jesus in the Gospel of St. Matthew:

“Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but does not notice the log that is in your own eye?  Or how can you say to your brother, `Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye?  You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.”

We must be careful to not allow ourselves to become so self-confident that we believe that we are incapable of having itching ears.

St. Paul then reminds us, once again that the life of the Christian is not an easy one when he writes:

“As for you, always be steady, endure suffering, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.  For I am already on the point of being sacrificed; the time of my departure has come.”

But this life of hard choices has its reward.  St. Paul reminds us by writing:  

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.  Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved His appearing.”

It amazes me that a letter written by someone nearly two thousand years ago can speak to us today.  But then to live a Christian life has always had its challenges.  So, we must remember, each one of us, that the way we live our life, our behaviours and our actions – may well be the only sermon that someone ever experiences.  AMEN.

Sermon for Sunday 22nd June 2025

* 1 Kings 19:1-4, (5-7), 8-15a and Psalm 42 and 43 *Galatians 3:23-29 * Luke 8:26-39

Miss MacLeod was the boss of a big company and she needed to call one of her employees about an urgent problem with one of the main computers. She dialled the employee’s home phone number and was greeted with a child’s whispered, “Hello?”

Rather put out at the inconvenience of having to talk to a youngster, Miss MacLeod asked, “Is your Daddy home?” “Yes”, whispered the small voice. “Can I talk to him?” she asked.

To Miss MacLeod’s surprise, the small voice whispered, “No.”

Wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, “Is your Mummy there?” “Yes”, came the answer. “Can I talk with her?” Again the small voice whispered, “No.”

Knowing that it was not likely that a young child would be left at home all alone, Miss MacLeod decided she would just leave a message with the person who should be there watching over the child. “Is there any one there besides you?” she asked the child.

“Yes” whispered the child, “a policeman.” Wondering what on earth the police were doing there, Miss MacLeod asked, “Can I talk to the policeman?” “No, he’s busy,” whispered the child. “Busy doing what?” “Talking to Daddy and Mummy and the Fireman”, came the whispered answer.

Growing concerned and even worried as she heard what sounded like a helicopter through the ear piece on the phone, Miss MacLeod asked, “What is that noise?” “A hello-copper” answered the whispering voice. “What on earth is going on there?” asked the now rather worried employer.

In a voice full of awe the child whispered, “The search team just landed the hello-copper.” Alarmed, concerned, and more than just a little frustrated the boss asked, “What are they searching for?” Still whispering, the young voice replied along with a muffled giggle: “hee hee, they’re all looking for Me!”

Hide and seek is one of those games that will never be superseded by an electronic games console. It’s impossible because it’s a game that needs both people and a good sized house or other location.

Do you remember playing Hide and Seek as a child? Were you one of those who preferred to be a hider or a seeker? Did you find a place to hide which meant you were really difficult to find, or did you always choose a pretty obvious hiding place so that you would be one of the first to be discovered?

When I was at school I once tried to organise a professional Hide and Seek tournament – but it didn’t work – good players are just too hard to find!

Though hide and seek is just a game, how we feel about it, says a lot about the kind of person we are. Do we need to be found or are we content to be lost?

These questions are brought to mind by the Gospel for today.

In it, a man who wears no clothes, lives out in the tombs and describes himself as ‘Legion’ because of the ‘many demons’ that had ‘entered him’ is saved by Jesus.

The reading is a mysterious passage and some of the words can seem strange to our modern minds. Yet central to it is the sense that Jesus seeks to bring wholeness and healing to those who call upon him. Even those who hide amongst the dead.

The man tormented by the demons possessing his life, asks Jesus, who had already commanded the ‘unclean spirit’ to leave him, ‘What have you to do with me Jesus, son of the Most High God?’ He was lost and though some might have given up on him Jesus seeks, finds and restores him to life.

What about us, though we’re here at church this morning, do we too sometimes feel a bit lost and do we need to be found again by Christ?

If so, then we need to ask, what would he find hiding in our lives? What demons have possessed and frustrated God’s loving purpose in us?

Most of us struggle with the word ‘demons’ yet few of us would doubt that there are things that can undermine the fullness of life to which we’re all called. They cannot be ignored if we’re to be constantly transformed by our faith.

This morning’s Gospel describes a life changing transformation for that man, from being a lost outcast, he is restored ‘clothed and in his right mind’.

Yet, like him, if we’re to be, in St. Paul’s words, ‘clothed with Christ’ we need to always be open enough to let Christ find us, let him touch the depth of our souls and transform us.

But we do have to want to be found, we have to want his love to come and continually transform us. It’s so easy to stand still, to reach a certain point in our journey of faith and then not to move, to decide that the change around us in society and the church is all too much and not seek to engage with it.

It’s a bit like what was happening in Galatia, described in our Epistle. They had found Christ, yet it was too much, they wanted to hide and Paul speaks to those who found certainty in the easy security of the law.

Paul knew that any law which divides, separates and frustrates doesn’t speak of the God of transformation and he reminds them that in Christ there is ‘no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female; for all are one in Christ Jesus’.

The radical freedom Jesus brought changed their world. Likewise the living Christ in us, can be frightening, for he challenges everything in which we find security. For some, then as now, it can be too much.

In our Gospel those who witnessed the man’s transformation were ‘seized with great fear’ and they asked Jesus to leave. It was easier to send him away, to hide, than to live in his life changing love.

We might draw a parallel with life for so many today; they don’t wish to be found and they probably don’t even think they’re lost. Yet Jesus seeks them too.

When a child first plays hide and seek they need to be encouraged to overcome their caution and fear and to hide. Sometimes an adult will need to go with them, to reassure them that they won’t be lost forever.

What we do in this building this morning may not be Hide and Seek but we do need each other’s encouragement and help to find Jesus in our midst. Whilst society has changed and the church has struggled to keep up, that doesn’t mean people no longer need the redeeming love of Christ.

Having been found, we’re called to go and be his people amongst our neighbours. So a challenge for each one of us this week is to not be afraid, to leave this service, like the demon possessed man his life now transformed, ‘proclaiming the good news’ of just how much ‘Jesus has done for’ you. Go from here and in the strength of the Holy Spirit seek those who are hiding and waiting to be found.

Sermon for Trinity Sunday 2025

Greetings to you on this Trinity Sunday!

I’m sure it will come as no surprise that when priests and other ministers are preparing their sermons, homilies or talks they use a wide variety of resources to guide and structure the message they want to share – and this can be really useful when the ‘topic’ or theme is a difficult one to try to explain. From great theological tomes by learned fathers and mothers, to snippets of thought in an online blog – all can find their way into a Sunday sermon.

Today, The Feast of the Holy Trinity, is often a day thought to be particularly challenging and in preparing for this sermon I was doing a bit of research and came across an article: ‘The Top 10 ways to explain the Holy Trinity’.

Now I won’t bother you with all 10, but here are the top 3.

At number 3 – The Holy Trinity is likened to Battery, Wire and Electricity. God is the power source, the battery. The Son is the mediator, the wire which conducts God’s love to us and The Spirit is the power itself, the love of God which comes to us through Jesus.


Now this explanation has some strength in that it differentiates the three persons of The Trinity and puts them in relationship with one another BUT the downside is that it uses inanimate objects to try to explain something that should be something fundamentally living and dynamic.

So to the 2nd most popular way to explain The Trinity – a Dance. God is the dance, the energy, the movement at the centre of creation and the trinity is our way of saying God does the dance perfectly with all of the dancers in harmony.

Now this explanation is better at describing a living, moving relationship, but it is a bit abstract and isn’t great at helping us identify the three persons of the Trinity.

Finally at Number 1 – the most popular way of explaining the Holy Trinity comes from Ireland and good old St Patrick himself – The 3-leaved clover. Each leaf on the plant appears whole and independent, but they are indivisibly part of a single stem. But then questions like ‘Is the stem then a different source from which the three persons of the trinity emerge?’ spring into the mind.

And so on and so on.

I haven’t been able to find any explanation or representation of the Holy Trinity that doesn’t conjure up a raft of questions.

So what I am about to say to you on this Feast of the Holy Trinity may sound a bit strange. It might even sound as if I am being unfaithful and even inappropriate. But I think it’s important and maybe even necessary.

Are you ready?

Stop thinking about God.

You probably didn’t expect to be reading a sermon that told you to stop thinking about God, but before you pick up the hotline to the Bishop, let me explain what I mean.

I suspect that many of us spend too much time and effort thinking about God. Now that’s not just an observation, it is also a confession of one who loves thinking about God. But maybe, just maybe we should spend a little bit less time thinking about God and instead simply be with Him. Here’s what I mean. Would you rather be with the one you love or think about the one you love? Would you prefer your relationships to be defined by love for another or information about another?

There is a sense in which thinking about God keeps us from being present with Him. In some way thinking about God can distance us from Him and set up a kind of ‘subject – object’ duality and that is actually the very opposite of trinitarian life!

We think about other people when we are not with them. Some of us think about our children who have grown up and moved out. Some think about our partners when we are away from each other. We think about our friends when we are apart. We think about our loved ones who have died. But in that moment when we are really present, when we have truly shown up and offered all that we are and all that we have, we’re not thinking about the other person, we are one with them. It is a moment of love, intimacy, and union. It’s not defined by life or death, distance or geography. It is defined and made possible for us by the eternal life and love shared by the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

Who is the person with whom you have or had the closest, deepest, most intimate relationship? Picture him or her and your relationship. When you are with that person you are not thinking about him or her. In moments of ecstatic love, you look at him or her and see yourself in his or her life and he or she does the same with you. We open ourselves to each other. We give ourselves to the other and receive the other into ourselves. That is the trinitarian life. It is the choreography of love and it’s happening all the time.

In the midst of an honest, real, and meaningful conversation we’re not thinking about the other person. We are with them and they are with us. A single life envelops and flows between us. We don’t make that happen, it just does. That’s trinitarian life.

When we are rolling on the floor, laughing, and playing with our child or grandchild we are not thinking about them, we are completely open and present to their life and they to ours. The line between their life and our life gets blurry and there is only love. That’s trinitarian life.

Sometimes we see the world through another’s eyes and their joys or sorrows take root in us as if they were our own. When that happens we are not receiving news or information about another, we are sharing a common life. We are loving our neighbour as our self. That’s trinitarian life.

Every now and then we are immersed in prayer and no longer conscious that we are praying. We no longer see ourselves talking to or thinking about God. Rather, our life is one with His and we are participating in the life of the Holy Trinity.

Each of these are moments when we can honestly say, “I love, therefore I am.” These and a thousand others just like them are trinitarian moments. Love for one another and faith in the Holy Trinity are integrally related. You cannot have one without the other.

The Holy Trinity is not a concept to be explained, numbers to be calculated, or a problem to be solved. It is a life to be lived, a love to be shared, and a beauty to be revealed.

Stop thinking about God. Live the life, share the love, reveal the beauty. Amen.

God bless you and those you hold dear this coming week.

Fr Simon

Sermon for Pentecost 2025

There is a beautiful traditional analogy that describes worship in the Episcopal Church as that of a symphony orchestra. The members of the congregation are the players in the orchestra, with many different instruments represented among them. The musical score is the particular liturgy we are using and the conductor is the celebrant or officiant, who leads and helps tie everything together. And who is the audience at this joyous performance? Well, the audience is God!

This analogy illustrates the basic truth that our worship in the Episcopal tradition is participatory. There is a lot of action on the part of the congregation making them active participants in what is going on. I think this musical image is also a helpful one for understanding the church’s mission. The ideal of our working together in unity can also benefit from an illustration from classical music.

My own favourite metaphor for the church at its best, is the 4th movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. It is beautiful and stirring. Everyone knows the central melody, the “Ode to Joy.”

Anyone who has experienced the great pleasure of attending a live performance of this wonderful work might agree that it can indeed provide a symbolic vision of what the church can be at its best.

The Ninth Symphony builds magnificently toward its final, 4th movement. Beethoven’s masterpiece grows, with gradually unfolding themes of deep beauty. Finally, having gone through every form of instrumental expression, the composer calls forth the human voice. Singing is required to bring ultimate expression to the composer’s vision.

As the symphony ends in a spectacular climax, the conductor, the orchestra, the quartet of lead singers, and the full chorus are all working feverishly. Every orchestra member is playing with inspired fervour. The quartet of soloists and the chorus are singing at full volume. The conductor, beating time with baton in hand, works exhaustively to tie the pieces of the musical whole together into one intricate, moving entity. She urges forth every last ounce of spirit left in the performers. All work exuberantly together to bring about a great piece of musical love.

Yes, the final movement of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony may well be an ideal expression of God’s kingdom. It is certainly my own vision of how the church can act — that is, with everybody working together to produce the greatest expression of love, and with no one standing idly by:

with everyone involved, doing his or her part
without discord
with no in-fighting
with everyone focused on one purpose
with everyone inspired, exuberant,
working feverishly to love God
with all their being and to love God’s
children as themselves
with everyone following the will of the leader.

This is the example set by Jesus. His whole life was one continual effort to work to produce love, healing, happiness, and salvation among all people. Certainly, that was the example the early church sought to emulate.

Remembering the first Pentecost Day, the day when the disciples were set on fire with the Holy Spirit, it is natural to think of the finale of Beethoven’s great symphony. The glory of the finale is my idea of what that first Pentecost was like. That first day of the church’s reaching out to the world, spreading the joy of the good news of God.

On that day, the early followers of Jesus received the power of the Holy Spirit and were enabled to go out working together, pooling their resources, caring for the community and the common goal, providing generously for the needy, following the lead of their Lord.

On this Pentecost Sunday, we find ourselves emphasising our responsibilities as members of the Body of Christ to go beyond this service and beyond our community to act out the truths of our faith: to work together; to make our best effort to follow the direction of our Lord Jesus Christ; and to do so with the same feeling of commitment as that of the participants in a fine performance of Beethoven’s Ninth.

For thirty years Beethoven thought about, worked on, and developed an idea to use a chorus based on a work by the German poet Johann Schiller. Near the end of his life, in the maturity of his artistic expression, Beethoven finally made use of the Schiller poem in the incomparable fourth movement of the Ninth Symphony.

The poem used in the chorus, often called the “Ode to Joy,” is based on the theme of joy, love, and, perhaps above all else, the unity of humankind.

One of the central stanzas reads this way:

Let thy magic bring together
all whom earth born laws divide.
All mankind shall be as brothers.

Indeed, all humanity shall be as brothers and sisters, because of God’s action in Christ.

I don’t know about you, but this week I have been worried by the ‘preparing for war’ rhetoric spread across our media outlets. We need to pray fervently for peace, for the Holy Spirit to breathe into the hearts of world leaders.

The great vision of Beethoven, revealed in the final movement of his final symphony, is one with our vision of the Kingdom of God. The vision that is the same as the goal of our faith in God that all humankind will live in harmony – impossible as that might seem right now.

So, let us dedicate ourselves on this Sunday of Pentecost, to live into this vision — to begin anew acting in concert, in harmony, and with love, so that we may treat all those around us as sisters and brothers, so that, together, following the lead of our Lord, we can produce a great act of Christian love, bringing peace to this world in a time of fear and growing tensions.

Come Holy Spirit, and lead us into peace.

Amen

Sermon for the seventh Sunday of Easter – 01.06.25

* Acts 16:16-34 * Psalm 97 * Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21 * John 17:20-26

I wonder if you are able to identify where these well known phrases come from?

i) “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn

ii) “We’ll always have Paris”

iii) “Kiss me Hardy”

iv) “How lucky I am to have someone that makes saying goodbye so hard”

(See the end of this sermon for the answers)

Saying goodbye –

Be good. Take care of yourself. Have fun. Mind your manners. Work hard. Make good decisions. Learn a lot. Be careful. Call me if you need something. Remember, I love you.

Those are the kind of things we say when we are leaving, when we are departing. We often give our last minute instructions for what the other should do after we have left. When I was growing up I heard some of these from my parents. I have said some of these to other people and I suspect each of you has said or heard these or similar words. They are our departing instructions to one we love. With those words we entrust the future well-being of that loved one to himself or herself.

It would be easy to hear today’s gospel as Jesus’ departing instructions to his disciples. It would make sense. After all, we are back at the night of the last supper. Jesus knows he is leaving. He will soon be crucified and the disciples will have to find their own way without his physical presence. So why not give some last minute instructions about how to act, what to do and the way they should treat each other? That’s what we might do, but that is not what Jesus is doing. That is a misinterpretation of the text.

Jesus is not entrusting the future of the disciples to themselves. He is entrusting their future to God. His words are not departing instructions but a departing prayer. The disciples are God-entrusted not self-entrusted.

Today’s gospel is not a conversation between Jesus and the disciples, but a prayer from Jesus to his Father, and our Father. Today we overhear Jesus’ prayer for us. His prayer isn’t for our benefit only, but for the life of the world, so that the world may believe the Father sent Jesus. Our unity becomes the sacramental presence of God in the world. Our oneness continues the embodiment of God in human flesh and life.

But this unity is not something that we do or create. Jesus does not tell the disciples to be nice to each other, to get along, to eliminate their differences or to agree upon a common plan or purpose. He doesn’t prescribe tolerance, uniformity, unanimity, or consensus. We are not the recipients of instructions but the subject and beneficiary of Jesus’ prayer.

Jesus prays three times for oneness. “That they may all be one.” “That they may be one.” “That they may become completely one.” The oneness for which he prays is modelled on the unity of the Father and Jesus, their shared life. He prays that we would be completely one as he and the Father are one. Jesus’ prayer echoes the ancient Jewish prayer, Shema Yisrael, “Hear, O Israel: the LORD is our God, the LORD is one (Deut. 6:4).

That Jesus is praying to the Father for our oneness, rather than giving instructions, means that unity is of and from God. It is not something we do or create. It is the very life and being of God. We do not establish unity, we participate in and manifest to the world the already existing oneness that is God.

Now this doesn’t mean we can just sit back and wait for God to answer Jesus’ prayer. We too have a part to play. Our oneness must take tangible and visible form if it is to show the world the invisible and spiritual life and presence of God. In some way our lives in relationship to God and one another become the answer to Jesus’ prayer.

Our lives and relationships are to be outward and visible signs of God’s inward and invisible presence. But we can only become and live this when we know ourselves to be God-entrusted rather than self-entrusted. That means our life comes not from ourselves but from God. That’s what allowed Jesus to choose the cross. That’s why he prayed rather than instructed. It’s how we become one as Jesus and the Father are one.

Right about now some instructions would be really helpful but I don’t have any. Jesus didn’t give any. There is no list. I can’t tell you what to do but I can tell you where to begin looking. This oneness exists at the intersection of our love for God and our love for each other. It is the intersection of the vertical axis and the horizontal axis. Unity is cross shaped. That point of intersection is, according to St. John’s account of the gospel, the hour of Christ’s glory, his death and resurrection. That is the preeminent image of a God-entrusted life. That’s where we find our oneness. That’s what we show the world.

Each time we live with a God-entrusted understanding of ourselves, boundaries soften, divisions are not as deep and broken relationships are reconciled. Each time we take a step toward a God-entrusted understanding of ourselves and let go of a self-entrusted life we move towards oneness.

When, in love for God and each other, we surrender our self-entrusted life to a God-entrusted life we embody the Father’s answer to Jesus’ prayer and we are one as Jesus and the Father are one. In that moment we have, “met the glory of God and that glory shines in us.”

i) (Gone with the wind)

ii) (Casablanca)

iii) (Admiral Lord Nelson)

iv) (Winnie the pooh)

Sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter – 25.05.25

* Acts 16:9-15 * Psalm 67 * Revelation 21:10, 22-22:5 * John 14:23-29

I’d like you to think for a moment of the one thing that would make the most positive difference in your life. Maybe it’s a particular item or object, possibly it’s a change in a particular situation, or maybe it’s the restoration of a relationship. All of these, we might individually consider to be a ‘good’ thing.

The opening line to the collect for this the sixth Sunday after Easter ascribes to God – and only God – the ability to give us all good things that surpass our understanding, that exceed all that we can desire.

O God, from whom all good things arise..

Exceeding all that we can desire? Just how is that possible?

Most of the time, we live lives that are a compromise between happiness and sorrow, joy and discouragement. This roller coaster kind of existence can be a challenge to our faith and a denial of good things that surpass our understanding, and God knows this.

The whole of the Easter season has been about equipping us with powerful tools of faith to defeat the forces that would drag us down.

There are post-resurrection stories of a group of defeated fishermen who end up going back to their lives of fishing, only to discover the risen Jesus meeting them for breakfast.

There are the travellers walking to Emmaus encountering a stranger who turns out to be Jesus, who breaks bread with them. They discover their hearts gladdened. These are experiences opened to us, too.

So, where do these good things come from?

You can’t find them on ebay or place an Amazon order for them but you can hear them, experience them, and find them in the community of faith, the Easter community.

The early Christians learned that they could face persecution, possible arrest, trial, and even execution because of the power of the resurrection that they had found in the Easter community.

They also learned that what happened to them was of little account, because they placed themselves under the gracious God who delivered them from the pall of darkness in their lives.

Today, we hear about Lydia, a woman of obvious wealth – purple cloth was used for high officials and nobility – and how she embraces Paul and invites him to come and stay in her house. She knows something is missing in her otherwise successful life, and when she hears about Jesus, she discovers an abundant God who fills the empty place in her heart, and she invites God in.

And we listen as Jesus teaches the disciples about what will happen after he leaves them. God will send an advocate, the Holy Spirit, who will do two things: teach and remind.

The Spirit will teach us how God wants for us and gives us the good things we need, even when we don’t know what they are or how to ask for them.

Many of us face challenging and hard times in our lives. Times when we can feel we personally have ‘failed’ because of what has happened. A change in employment circumstances, a breakdown in a relationship, these things and more can leave us feeling that we are a failure.

Sometimes it’s hard, but that’s exactly the time when we need to lean on the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit who will remind us, especially when things are not going well, what really matters and to whom we belong.

Our faith community, our Christian family must be the place where we are restored, not just in the sense of feeling good, but deep in the very depths of our hearts.

The sign of the cross, the breaking of the bread at communion, the hymns (read the words even if you don’t sing), and the Scriptures are all reminders of how much we are loved and cherished and redeemed.

As a wise bishop once said, “Human beings solve problems; God redeems messes.” All of us think we can fix things, but often the mess overwhelms us. We are reminded, as the disciples were after the death of Jesus, that God redeems messes – and that includes each of us.

Good things have been turned into a commodity. They are scarce, and you have to be able to pay for them. At least that is what we are told by ads on Television and even stories in the news. Go to this lawyer, join that exercise class, buy this or that appliance for your comfort – the list is endless – and expensive.

God has another way that is based on abundance. God gives us what we need, always providing for us those things which cannot be bought or bargained for.

They are things that endure – hope, faith, love, fellowship, and friends. They are qualities like peace and wisdom and courage.

God gives us these gifts through the Spirit, and God also gives us the ability to find them in others. The world is full of them, though often they are masked by our focus on the news of anger and darkness.

So, here are some ways you can, like Lydia, be faithful to the Lord and receive the abundance of good things God has for you:

First of all, expect those good things.

The Beloved, the one who created you, the one at whose birth the angels sang, loves you. So, begin to expect good things. They are not earned, they are freely given. And perhaps you have neglected to see them right there in front of you in the person you love, the people you work with, and the beauty that surrounds you daily. Trust me, the more you find yourself saying, “God will bless me today,” the more you will see it happen.

This week, in our church calendar we mark Rogation Days, the days of planting and hallowing of creation. So, why not plant something – a tree or a plant or even a seed, and nurture it.

Doing this might reconnect you with the earth and the blessings of creation, and it will remind you that we are all dependent on the rain and the soil and the sun given by the Creator for us all.

Maybe think about how you are going to reduce your contribution to the world’s waste problem and ask God to guide you in your actions so that it becomes a partnership with God and others. It will also honour the creation as God’s gift.

And finally, expect more serenity in your life. Serenity is a quality often denied us, but much of the time we actually deny it to ourselves.

God wants our lives to be lived in serenity, but we have to claim it as a gift so freely given. Why not use the well know serenity prayer each day this week:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

The “good things” that surpass our understanding are waiting to be claimed and celebrated by all of us. Awaken to their presence, claim them as your spiritual inheritance, and live them in witness to the risen Lord.

Sermon for the fifth Sunday of Easter – 18.05.25

* Acts 11:1-18 * Psalm 148 * Revelation 21:1-6 * John 13:31-35

I wonder if anyone here this morning has ever been driving along when the car following you seems to be in such a rush that they are almost in your boot? It seems that the driver following you wants you out of the way so they can get to where they are wanting to go more quickly!

Well a certain Mr Mackay found himself in such a position one morning when young Miss Fraser was behind him honking her horn, flashing her headlights and using rather unsavoury hand gestures.

They were approaching some traffic lights which had just turned red and, quite rightly Mr Mackay stopped at the junction. Miss Fraser, having had to stop behind, was obviously upset that she too had been forced to stop and wait. She continued honking her horn, flashing her headlights, waving her hands about in a very rude manner and hurling abuse from inside her car.

Suddenly a tap at the window startled her. There stood Police Constable Sanderson, notebook in hand. He signalled Miss Fraser to get out of her car and had her follow him to the police car.

She was directed into the back seat and PC Sanderson placed her under arrest. “What?” Miss Fraser exclaimed! “I wasn’t speeding, My car’s fully insured and taxed – I’ve done nothing wrong!”

Your[1]  car? Miss I do apologise. I’ve been following you for a while and I saw your hand signals at the driver in front, how you were trying to run him off the road and heard your swearing just now. When I saw the chrome plated christian fish symbol on your boot, the What would Jesus do? Sign in the rear window and the ‘Follow me to Sunday school bumper sticker’ I naturally assumed you must have stolen the car!”

Signs and symbols – they represent all sorts of groups and ideas. The police officer in our little story thought he could recognise a Christian by the signs and symbols she had on her car.

Let’s start with an easy test this morning. Signs!

Sign or symbol for our church.

So what is the sign that the Church is to be known by?

According to the Bible, specifically our gospel reading this morning from John 13 the church is to be known by our love for one another.

Jesus is speaking to his disciples about signs in our gospel today.

This lesson on the 5th Sunday of Easter brings us back to the night of the Passover. Jesus and his disciples are in the upper room in Jerusalem.

Earlier in the 13th chapter we hear that Jesus gets up from supper and ties a towel around his waist. He pours water into a basin and begins washing their feet. This was the job of a servant, not the job of a rabbi. This washing of the feet was common in the time of Jesus.

A way to clean off the feet exposed to all manner of dirt and dust. But during dinner and done by Jesus? What a shocking thing for the disciples to experience.

Continuing on in the chapter, we find that Judas rises from the table to go and report Jesus to the authorities.

After he leaves, Jesus again repeats the idea that he and the Father are one. The glory of God resides in him. He also tells the disciples again that he will be leaving them. (Not that they seem to ever get this message).

Then Jesus goes on to give them a new commandment: They are to love one another, even as he has loved them. In this way, others will know that they are Jesus’s disciples.

Now the law of love was nothing new to the Jewish people of Jesus’ day. They would have known and studied the law of Moses. In Leviticus 19, verse 18, we hear that we are to love our neighbour as ourselves. So why then, does Jesus call this a new commandment?

Jesus had already taught them to love God and to love their neighbour. Now he is telling them to love each other.

Jesus did not simply say to love one another. Jesus was very specific about the kind of love his disciples were to share. He said that they were to love one another even as he had loved them.

They were to love each other by serving each other.

The ancient Greeks had three words for love: eros (romantic love), phileo (family love, the love of friends) and agape (sacrificial love). The Greek word for love which is used in John 13 is agape, the kind of self- giving love. They were to love one another without thought for themselves. They were to concern themselves with the needs of the other disciples.

Since I came to join the church family here in East Sutherland and Tain over seven years ago now, I have been privileged to see the many ways you show love for one another.

As a member of the clergy team that serve you, I’m in a position to see and hear time and again about how you serve each other. What might seem small acts to some, are in fact part of the sacrificial love that Jesus is talking about – preparing and serving tea and coffee after services, spending time just listening to each other, giving people a lift to church or elsewhere, sharing problems and concerns and offering gentle words of encouragement – all of these in their own ways are signs that you love one another.

There are those among us who visit the sick or offer a listening ear over the phone. Those who help with shopping trips or lifts to the hospital.

As a family, you raise funds for charities, gather food for the food bank and provide a safe space for the vulnerable – all of these activities demonstrate your love for each other and those in our wider community.

And yet, we must also admit that sometimes we fall short in being loving towards one another. Sometimes it is just a single outburst, a moment of frustration, an isolated event. While at other times we may fall into a pattern of disrespect.

While preparing my sermon for today I came across this quotation: “Church can be like a group of porcupines huddling together to get warm…you might get warm, but on the other hand, you might get hurt also.”

So what are we to do when we find we find ourselves feeling rather like a porcupine towards another in the congregation? What about those times when we just can’t seem to let go of our anger towards another in our fellowship?

Here are some thoughts to consider.

I’d like to share with you a quotation from Al-Anon’s daily reader Courage to Change.

Al-Anon is a 12 step program for families and friends of alcoholics. The passage comes from the reading for April 13:

 “If I don’t know how to respond to a situation today, why not try responding with kindness? Whether I accept or turn down a request, agree or disagree with someone’s point of view, I can still treat the other person with respect and courtesy. I can say, ‘No,’ as gently and lovingly as I can say, ‘Yes.’”

The reading continues, “Relationships are complicated because people are complicated. We each have our own ideas, values, and hopes, and they can’t always coincide with the desires of those we love. Disagreements can be healthy and enlightening if we view them as a way to develop and deepen our relationships. Kindness and respect for everyone concerned will go a long way toward making this possible.”

I’d like to close with a true story from the life of Fred Craddock.

Fred was the preaching professor at A School of Theology.

Fred knew that his father had decided to stay away from his church because someone had hurt him. The church continued to reach out to Fred’s father year after year, but he would not return.

He told Fred that all they really wanted was another name on congregation list and another donation at the offertory.

As time went on Fred’s father got cancer. When Fred went to see his father in the hospital, he could see that his father was very ill.

He also observed that his dad’s hospital room was filled with cards and flowers. Fred learned that they were all from members of the church that his father had rejected.

As Fred was in conversation in those last days his father admitted that he had been wrong. Fred realised that this church gave God the room and time to change his dad’s heart. They kept on reaching out to him because they were committed to the concept of loving one another. They never gave up on his dad.

A new commandment I give unto you, that you love one another as I have loved you.

This week, if there’s someone you’ve not seen for a while, maybe someone who’s not been in church for years – reach out, make contact – show them that they are not forgotten, that we are still here waiting for them – love them as He loves you!

Amen

Sermon for the fourth Sunday of Easter – 11.05.25

* Acts 9:36-43 * Psalm 23 * Revelation 7:9-17 * John 10:22-30

Yesterday morning, I was listening to Radio 4’s Saturday Live programme.

The theme of the programme was all about communication and people at home had been invited to phone in to share stories about when communication had for some reason or other broken down.

One woman who called the show told of her younger days as a teenager when she used to earn a bit of money by baby-sitting. She was looking after a neighbour’s baby one evening when he began to cry and just would not stop.

She tried all sorts of things to calm the baby – singing to him and rocking him gently, but he continued to scream out. The woman decided to phone the baby’s parents at the local pub that they had gone to.

She called the number of the pub and the landlady picked up and beckoned the child’s mother to the phone. There was a bit of static on the line, but the young woman was able to share the problem. “I’ve tried everything” the young woman explained, “but he just won’t stop crying”.

“Rub some honey on his tummy, that always works’ the mother advised. The babysitter put down the telephone and went to get honey from the kitchen.

An hour or so later, the parents returned to find the baby laid across the sitter’s lap, still crying out loud, and the young woman rubbing honey on his tummy. “It’s just not working” she cried! The mother looked the babysitter in the eye. “His dummy, rub some honey on his dummy!”

I’m sure we’ve all had conversations over the telephone when interference or static has got in the way – and in this age of mobile phones, dipping in and out of signal can cause real problems in our communications.

In the gospels it sometimes seems like there is interference on the line when Jesus is speaking to the people. No matter how loud or long Jesus proclaims the message, it seems like some just don’t have “ears to hear.” There is a failure in communication.

It’s troubling that the religious people are especially hard of hearing when it comes to Jesus. After all, they are ‘God’s chosen ones’, so why can’t they hear Him?

In our reading from the gospel of John this morning we learn that they can’t hear Jesus because they are not willing to listen. They don’t recognise the voice of God in the man from Nazareth because the man and his message are so different from what they expect to hear.

I wonder about Christians gathered in churches across the world today? Can we hear Jesus? Do we recognise the voice of God in Him? Do we hear and obey what he says?

Over the years many have used the particular passage we’ve heard this morning as a way of saying “we’re right and you’re wrong”. They say with pride, “We listen to Jesus because we are Christians. We are a part of the church and so, obviously, this passage applies to those other people whose beliefs differ from mine.”

But, how do we know that the voice we hear is the voice of Jesus or some other voice? This is a difficult but critical question to answer.

We do know that down through the years many terrible things have been done in the name of Jesus. Wars have been fought and terrible destruction has been wrought all in His name.

Did the voice of Jesus really tell people to do what they did? From our vantage point we often confidently say, “No, of course not. Isn’t it terrible? Those poor souls must have misunderstood and misused the name of Jesus. I’m glad we’re not like that.”

But, can we be so sure that we too won’t be misled by our pride or our earthly desires for power and control?

If people of every age have misrepresented Jesus, if people of every age have failed to hear and heed his voice, we have to at least consider the possibility that we sometimes do the same thing.

If there is one group in the Bible with which we should always identify, it is those who fail to hear and understand.

If we are not careful it becomes all too easy to wander around in life like a person with a bad mobile phone connection. We think we’ve heard something, but we’re not sure. There’s too much interference, too much static on the line.

Communication with God and with each other is disrupted by the static of our personal problems, the static of our political views and even the static of a traditional religious teaching that may be (at least in some ways) at odds with what God in Christ is really trying to tell us.

Sometimes we assume that because a person is familiar to us that we know them and that we always listen to what they have to say. This is especially true when it comes to those we are close to – a family member or dear friend,

And sometimes we hurt the ones we love, because we often ignore the ones we love. We don’t really listen to them. Instead of listening, we make assumptions.

We assume that we already know what that other person is thinking and feeling. And this can cause all sorts of problems.

“You never listen to me” the lonely loved one cries. And it’s often true.

I think that every important relationship in our lives needs an element of mystery. We need to always ask ourselves, “I wonder what she thinks about this, or I wonder what his opinion might be about that.”

Assumptions can be deadly. Do away with your assumptions if you want to strengthen your important relationships. People instinctively know when you are really listening to them. And when you really listen, some amazing breakthroughs can be made.

In the same way, our relationship with Jesus breaks down because sometimes we do not listen to him. We assume that we already know what he has to say and so we do not spend that quiet time simply being still and and trying to know God better.

We are too busy speaking. We are too busy telling Jesus who he is and what he needs to do for us in order to make our lives happy and healthy. There is no mystery in our relationship with him.

And if there is no mystery in that relationship, we will not listen. Our love for Jesus will not grow. We may even stray to the point that we  no longer hear his voice at all and so risk falling away from his flock.

Sometimes I think the problem is not that we don’t hear or even understand the voice of Jesus. The problem is that we have selective hearing, filtering out all those things that we don’t want to hear. We are afraid of a word of challenge or change or we’re afraid to take a risk in our own lives in order to respond to what he is calling us to do.

Though we do walk through the “valley of the shadow of death,” though we do have difficult days as we seek to follow Jesus, there is a promise in this morning’s gospel that gives us hope.

If you’re in the hands of Jesus you’re in God’s hands. And God is going to care for you today and for all eternity.

It is this promise that allows us to put our daily struggle into perspective. As the Apostle Paul put it, “If God is for us, who can be against us?”

If we are in God’s hands who is going to harm us? Who is going to snatch us out of God’s hands? The answer is no one. The promises of God are sure and the hope that is ours in Christ is forever.

The number one reason people don’t listen to Jesus or to each other is that they are afraid. And their fears prevent them from being all that they could be. Their fears prevent them from really listening.

Jesus invites people everywhere to put away their fears. Jesus invites people everywhere to trust and obey.

So, my brothers and sisters in Christ, Listen for the voice of Jesus, listen and respond to His calling on your lives. Be faithful to Him because He is the Good Shepherd and we are his sheep. Follow Him and live!

Amen.

Sermon for the 3rd Sunday of Easter – 04.05.25

John 21.1-19

Many psychologists will tell you that there are two things all human beings need in order to live happy, productive lives: we need a sense of belonging, and we need a sense of purpose. By “belonging” I don’t mean “fitting in.” In fact, fitting in might be the exact opposite of belonging. When you try to fit in, you adapt yourself to a group’s expectations. When you belong, you don’t have to change a thing. You are accepted the way you are. Being accepted as we are by a larger group gives us a stable view of ourselves, and helps us shape our individual identity, according to the psychologists.

And a sense of purpose gives us a reason to get up in the morning. We need to believe that what we do matters, that we make a difference in the world. Our sense of purpose drives our decisions about the way we spend our time and energy and financial resources. Believing that your life has meaning and value can motivate you to face challenging circumstances with courage and perseverance, even joy.

We need to feel like we belong, and we need to feel like we have a purpose in life. In today’s gospel lesson, Jesus offers us both.

There are really two stories intertwined in today’s reading. One has to do with fish, and the other with sheep. Let’s just think about the fish story first.

New Testament experts often point out that one way we can know that the resurrection stories are true is that they don’t always show the disciples in the best light. If the disciples of Jesus had made up the story, they would surely have given themselves a more faithful response to the news that Jesus had risen from the dead. Their own part in the story would have been more heroic and flattering. Instead, we read about their disbelief, their failure to accept the women’s eyewitness account as anything more than desperate chatter. And here, we see them spending an entire night fishing … for nothing.

And some of these disciples were expert fishermen. They were pros! Even so, after a long night of casting their net, they had not caught a thing. And now it was morning. The sun had not come up yet, but in the grey light of early dawn, they could see a charcoal fire on the shore. And even though they had caught no fish, they could tell that someone was cooking fish up there on the rocks. They aren’t far from shore, and the person cooking calls out, “Children, you haven’t caught anything, have you?” “No,” they answer. “Well, try throwing your net off the other side of the boat.” And suddenly, the net is full of fish. Large fish. 153 different larger fish.

Now, this sounds a lot like the story in Luke chapter 5, at the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry, where Jesus climbs into Simon’s boat to put some space between himself and the crowd that is pressing in. “Put out into deep water and let down your nets,” Jesus tells Simon. “Okay, if you say so,” Simon answers, “but we’ve been fishing all night and haven’t caught anything.” According to Luke, when the nets come up full to bursting, Simon falls on his knees and confesses his own sinfulness and Jesus as his Lord. Jesus says, “Don’t be afraid. From now on you will catch people instead of fish.” (Luke 5:1-11)

But this time, on this post-resurrection fishing trip, John tells us “the disciple whom Jesus loved” is the one who first recognises the figure on the beach. As the boat gets closer to the rocky shoreline, John tells Peter, “Hey, it’s the Lord!” And the first thing Peter does is throw on some clothes and jump into the water. He swims up to the rocks that line the lake and climbs over them to get to Jesus. The others bring in the boat, with the net full of fish.

Jesus says, “bring some of the fish you have caught,” and Peter jumps back into the water to haul in the catch. Then they all sit down to breakfast. Grilled fish and broken bread. It’s the closest John’s gospel ever gets to describing the Lord’s Supper. Instead of the last meal before his crucifixion, Jesus offers a post-resurrection breakfast to his disciples.

There are two little details we need to be sure we notice here. Firstly, Jesus doesn’t need their fish. He is already cooking while their nets are still empty. But when they follow his commands, he invites them to add their fish to the food he has already prepared. Jesus uses our God-given talents and adds them to the work he is already doing in our lives. He invites us to share in a feast that he has prepared, using whatever gifts we bring him.

Secondly, when the expert fishermen have come up empty using their own methods, Jesus gives them a simple command to change the way they do things, and they are suddenly blessed with abundance.

Whole books have been written about the significance of the 153 fish that fill their net. The most commonly accepted interpretation of this number comes from the 4th century theologian Jerome, who writes that there were 153 different species of fish known in first century Galilee. The net wasn’t just filled with 153 fish, but 153 different kinds of fish, symbolizing the extent to which fishing for people would go – to the whole world.

Maybe Jerome got it right, maybe not. But one thing is certain. The net was empty all night long as the fishermen used their tried-and-trusted fishing techniques. When they followed Jesus’ direction to do things differently, the net was full of large fish, and it didn’t breakTheir capacity to catch fish grew with their obedience. We might learn something from that.

After breakfast, Jesus and Peter go for a walk along the beach. They have a short, but repetitive conversation. Three times, Jesus asks, “Simon, do you love me?” and three times, Peter answers, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Each time, Jesus responds with a command to care for his sheep. “Feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep,” Jesus says.

It is easy to see the connection between Peter’s earlier three denials and these three professions of loyalty and devotion. It is also easy to see why Peter is hurt when Jesus asks him a third time, “Do you love me?” “You know everything, Lord. You know that I love you,” Peter insists.

What might not be so easy to see is the way Jesus draws Peter into a new relationship through this short conversation. Keep in mind that when Peter was in the high priest’s courtyard, he didn’t deny the divinity of Jesus or Jesus’ claim to be the Messiah. What Peter denied was his own relationship to Jesus. When he is asked twice, “You are one of his disciples, aren’t you?” Peter says, “I am not.” When he is challenged a third time, he denies knowing Jesus. (John 18:17, 25, 27)

Now, as they walk together beside the lake, Jesus not only restores that relationship, but creates a new one between himself and Peter. By the third time he questions “Simon, son of John” he is asking for more than general compassion or affection. Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me like a brother? You claim me as your friend; can I claim you as my friend?”

Peter’s distress is almost as important as his words. “You know everything, Lord. You know I love you. You know all my failings and my weaknesses, and you know my sin. If you still want me as your friend, I want to be that friend to you.”

“Feed my sheep,” Jesus tells him. Up to this point, Jesus has portrayed himself as the Good Shepherd. Now he entrusts the care of his flock to Peter. It isn’t that sheep have replaced fish in importance, but shepherding has been added to fishing. Jesus ends the conversation the same way he began his relationship with Simon and the other fishermen back at the start of his ministry. “Follow me,” he says.

“Follow me,” Jesus calls to us now. “Follow me,” whether we are fishing or herding his sheep. “Follow me,” when he calls us to change the way we’ve always done things, so that he can bless us with abundance. “Follow me,” as he prepares a feast for us that combines what he provides with what we offer of ourselves. “Follow me” into such a close friendship, such a deep love, that all can be forgiven, and all can be made whole.

Jesus calls. Will you follow?