Whatever happened to "Good in Parts"?

Once upon a time there was a curate.
She was a very new curate, just a few weeks into her diaconate, when someone of whom she was fond pointed out that it was rather rude to comment on the blogs of others but to have nowhere of your own to contribute to the conversation.
As one who had always loved words, she saw the justice in this - and so a blog was born.

As she settled into ordained ministry, that blog became a huge blessing to her...a place to think aloud, to try and make sense of the experiences of God at work in, beyond and despite the Church, to learn from others, to wonder and to celebrate.
It became the route to a network of  new friends in places she'd never imagined, her stake in a whole new community, and even drew her into contributing to a book.
Quite often, at gatherings of Christians in other places someone would say 
"You're "Good in Parts" aren't you?".....and many a friendship was born.

It was all most exciting. Finding time to blog was rarely a problem, and curacy seemed a fertile ground for theological reflection...but one day, that curate grew up and became an incumbent.

Abruptly, the world changed.
The luxury of writing time seemed to evaporate overnight, and all too often the new incumbent found that she had indeed "had the experience but missed the meaning".
More, she was acutely aware of the added weight of responsibility that rested on her, the way that so many of the stories she encountered were not hers to share and would be much harder to disguise in a community where she was coming to be widely known and recognised...
The mystery ingredient which had sent her blogwards almost daily seemed to have run out but the vicar felt the poorer for it's loss.
Twitter replaced the blogging community - and indeed many one-time blog-friends turned up there or on Facebook too...but it was never quite the same.

Wonderful things kept on happening - but the vicar had got out of the habit of writing about them.

But - I love blogging...I love reading the blogs of others...I love all the splendid creativity that is freely available if you just sit down and log on...

So - I'm going to try again.
I'm going to try and focus once more on this dusty, neglected corner where only sermons seem to have flourished - and see if I can muster the time, and the creative energy to bring it back to life.

It won't matter much to other people - though with a bit of luck and a following wind it might yet be good - in parts!

Trinity 20C for St Lawrence's

I don't know about you, but I'm not very good at asking for help.

When I broke my arm, quite badly as it happens, 6 months into my ministry here I was determined to carry on as usual, despite the complications of being unable to drive and, for much of the first couple of weeks being high on a splendid array of painkillers.

I didn't think I knew anyone in my churches quite well enough to say – Hey – this is really hard – and I, the one whose job is tied in with caring for others, really struggled to accept the support that I needed. I'll never forget how painful I found it when my teenaged son had to wash my hair...It gave me a foretaste of the dependence of old age and its frailty that I didn't welcome IN THE LEAST.

So – I have both sympathy and admiration for Namaan..that mighty warrior brought low by a disease that would, in many cultures, turn him into an outcast overnight.

Sympathy because he's an action man – a hero who comes and goes as he pleases, answering only to the king.

Admiration because he is willing to accept advice – from that most unlikely source, a teenage slave girl. In this situation, their roles are reversed. She, the helpless captive, holds the power of knowledge....and though she could have chosen to stand by in silence, she chooses to use that power to help

But things are never straightforward, are they?

Naaman is so used to going to the top that, having taken a deep breath and headed for Israel in response to the girl's advice, he goes straight for the top, with the King's encouragement sounding loudly in his ears.

Now it's the turn of another powerful man to find himself powerless...

The King of Israel is understandably alarmed to find his neighbour and long-time enemy, the King of Aram, making impossible demands.

He can see no good ending to this – for he knows he has no skill, no resources to heal a leper and expects a fresh outbreak of war before bedtime.

Fortunately, Elisha intervenes before war can be declared.

He takes the initiative, tells the King to send Namaan to him – and then offers him 7 simple steps to healing.

And therein lies the trouble.

For a powerful man to accept that the solution lies in doing something as ordinary and everyday as washing – and in a muddy foreign river at that – is well-nigh unthinkable.

And so Namaan very nearly misses the healing that is at hand...surely one of the earliest illustrations of that saying “Cutting off the nose to spite the face”

Again, I sympathise.

Nobody likes looking silly...and Elisha's prescription seems to call into question the gravity of Namaan's illness. OBVIOUSLY if leprosy washed off, he'd have had it sorted long ago...

Namaan has no reason to trust this so-called man of God, with his irritating refusal to meet him face to face and his idiotic idea that 7 baths in the Jordan will save the day. He has long relied on his own strength and the political clout he has earned. Why on earth should he consent to look a fool

But, once again, power lies in an unexpected quarter. It is Namaan's servants who use their persuasive talents to convince their master that he has nothing to lose.

“Give it a go. We KNOW you could and would take bigger risks, do difficult and dangerous things – so why not give this a try?”

And, perhaps surprisingly, Namaan agrees – and discovers that God can work through the most ordinary and unlikely things – that for him, on this day in this situation, the muddy waters of the Jordan are all he needs...or perhaps it is the lesson of obedient dependence that he needs most.

Either way, of course, he emerges cured – and his reaction is one of joyous gratitude and recognition of God at work.

He doesn't put it down to co-incidence.

He doesn't try to bluff it out

“Of course, I'd noticed that my skin was beginning to heal...”

He simply and immediately gives thanks and resolves to serve the God of Israel from now on.

Recognition of God at work...

That's surely significant in our gospel too.

10 lepers sent away – to claim in faith a healing that has yet to happen, as they go to the priest to be judged clean or unclean.

9 lepers so relieved to hear their wholeness confirmed that they immediately vanish into the daily lives restored to them by the action of one extraordinary man.

1 alone who stops to celebrate God at work...affirming His presence, rejoicing in his action. The fact that it is an outsider, a Samaritan, might give us pause...for sometimes it's those whom we'd imagine to be "outsiders" who have the deepest awareness of God, the most ready gratitude for his love.

Last week our Harvest thanksgiving brought to mind some words of Meister Eckhardt

“If the only prayer you ever utter is THANK YOU – that is enough”

Today's readings re-enforce that message – as they invite us to notice and to proclaim God's presence in the ordinary, his power in the unexpected, the mundane – that is transformed by His love.

I wonder what God wants to show us through the commonplace events of our lives, who he might send our way as agents of healing or change.

Stories like these tell us that any ground can be holy ground, any water can be healing and lifegiving, any stranger can be the prophet who says what we need to hear to change our lives.

But it's up to us to listen – and to look...to set aside our determined independence...and open ourselves to the God who works through the ordinary – through men and women, water and oil, bread and wine – and invites us to see the whole of Creation as a sacrament of His love.

Harvest thoughts for All Saints Uplands, 6th October 2013

St Matthew's School Harvest festival on Friday was a joyous affair. It was the first time that the new Reception class had joined the school for collective worship...so there was much squealing and wriggling along the way. We were also bidding farewell to a wonderful Chair of Governors, retiring after 28 years of service to the school – so we were very 
conscious of the need to say thank you....and, of course, we sang the much loved primary school song “Autumn days....” with its insistent refrain
“We mustn't forget – no we mustn't forget – to say a great big THANK YOU – we mustn't forget”
Together we realised as we looked round the church that at any and every moment of each day there are literally dozens of things to say thank you for.And that, of course, is why we are here celebrating Harvest Festival.
It’s time for us to pause and say,
 “Thank you! Thank you for all those good things that have come our way this year.” 
To pause and think.
To pause and thank.

Now, thankfulness is an attitude central to Christian belief. It's enshrined in the name of this service, the Eucharist, for that too means “Thanksgiving”We really should,always and everywhere, give thanks.

Unfortunately, generally we don’t. 

We look at the world, at all that we have to enjoy, and we take it as our right. We no longer see God in it.
But God is there. 
If we open our eyes, wherever we look in creation, we see signs pointing the way to the creator, tokens of his love at every turn….There are the obvious signs of course – the view from Selsley Common on a perfect autumn day, the night sky reminding us of our insignificance, the joyous giggle of a child paddling…But our creator God is no less present in the tinned tomatoes and processed cheese than in the wonderful displays of Harvest produce … and today at least we can take the trouble to pause and recognise this.

Creation is so much more than a gigantic supermarket, a mine from which we extract what we want, using or discarding to suit ourselves as if nothing has any value. Creation is not an objective “thing” to be used or abused as human kind sees fit.

Creation is, rather, part of the love song of our God who delights in creating…our God who looked at all that was made and declared that it was good.
We do forget, don’t we?
We’ve come along way from the garden of Eden and we rarely look back over our shoulders to touch base with the Creator as we ride rough shod over his creation.
It’s not a new problem.
Again and again through the Bible, God’s people are urged to be thankful – and we need that reminder more than ever today for we are prone to that danger that lurks embedded within any successful and affluent culture…the risk that success might encourage us to believe that we are sufficient unto ourselves, that the world is OURS and all that is within it.

Maybe recent years have diminished that danger a little for us…All across the world, people are that bit less sure of themselves…that much more aware of the fragility of the systems we’ve come to rely on.
And maybe that’s not a wholly bad thing.
I’m not suggesting that we should in any way rejoice at the economic hardships that are confronting many who thought themselves secure…just that a shock to our economic stability might offer some encouragement to remember our true source of security, the true source of all good gifts.

.Centuries ago, Meister Eckhardt a dreamer and man of prayer proclaimed,
"If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough."
I’m not sure, though, if I quite agree.
Saying thank-you is important, certainly. 
It’s a great thing to recognise one’s blessings and to say so from the heart.
But on another level I would suggest, SAYING thank you is only a small part of the full meaning of thanksgiving. 
Thanksgiving is both an attitude and a response, it is both faith and works.
We need, in other words, not just to say but to DO our thank yous too.
We are the recipients of God’s ceaseless, overwhelming 
generosity – and this should be our own model in giving.
God’s goodness is without limit, and so it follows that our response too should overflow… 
Clenched fists hold on in miserly determination If we open our hands to give, they will be open, too, to receive...
It seems to me that my own besetting sin is the fear that there might not be enough.
I want to give, I want to be generous…but at the back of my mind a little voice says
“Have you made sure you’re saving enough for old age…What if the children can't find jobs – it's not easy for graduates...”Instead of trusting that with God there is always enough and to spare, I wonder and worry and lapse into protective meanness.
Instead of rejoicing in the Lord always I am all too prone to being anxious...
Instead of living by Kingdom values every day, I hang on nervously to what I have and seek for more… 

Communities have this same struggle. If as a church family we are serious about modelling God’s love for the world,then we should be known not just for the beauty of our buildings and our worship but for the unconditional generosity we share. Our hallmark should be the way we give without counting the cost, the way we respond to the needs of others before we turn to gratify our own. 
We CAN trust God to take care of the essentials – and maybe, just maybe, those other things aren’t quite as important as we imagined after all.

Think about it for a moment.
I may not find it easy to admit, but I do not need everything that I have in order to live abundantly…and I’d guess things may be the same for you.
Indeed it seems that the more we have, the more cluttered our spirits become. We so surround ourselves with goodies of all kinds that we struggle to lift our eyes above our treasure. We begin to believe that what we HAVE is what we are WORTH

That’s a general truth but perhaps we are now at a juncture in human history where we will be forced to face certain realities- that our economies cannot and should not grow forever, that we may have to be content with what we have, or less…
Now might be the moment to reconsider priorities
The time of growth is over. Now, perhaps, we can pause and be grateful.
“Tis a gift to be simple…” says the old Shaker song…but it’s a gift that we are strangely reluctant to grasp even if we remember the second line “Tis a gift to be free”.
We seem determined to shore up our fragile selves with all sorts of material props and we become dependent on them, fettered by them…We focus not on thanksgiving but on thanksgetting…like a child who asks his friend on Boxing Day, not “what did you give?” but 
“what did you get for Christmas?”

But today at harvest festival we have a chance for a rethink.
We come together to celebrate all that we have received, and we express that celebration by giving of our best, our first fruits not our left-overs, just as people have through many centuries.
Harvest festival sounds cosy, reassuring, a link with the golden days when churches were full and summers were hot.
But I’d like us to use our harvest festival as a challenge this year.
If you and I can remember that we are celebrating thanks-giving, if we can live lives that reflect the boundless generosity of God, then we can honestly say with Meister Eckhardt that a simple prayer of "thank you" expressed in word and in deed, will be enough. In fact, it will be more than enough, abundant and overflowing with grace and love shining through every action. And so let’s thank God, for life, thank God for food, family and 
friends, thank God for the opportunities of living in a rich land flowing with milk and honey, and thank God for being able to express our gratitude in acts of love, sharing and giving without counting the cost. 

Angels and archangels - a homily for 8.00 on Michaelmas Sunday, 29th September 2013 at St Matthew's

Matthew, Mark, Luke and John

Bless the bed that I lie on

Four corners to my bed

Four angels there be spread

One to watch and one to pray

And two to bear my soul away

In the bedtime prayers of my childhood there seemed little difference between the evangelists – Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – and the shining guardian angels whom I was certain were my overnight companions....

I loved those angels, believed in them implicitly – and still, as this feast day of St Michael and All Angels approaches, I find myself dreaming happily of wondrous golden beings whose presence reassures me that all is well with the world.

In that I guess I'm in good company. Angels are hugely popular today. Gift shops can rely on selling any number of angel trinkets...books of angel stories walk off the shelves at a time when public interest in more mainstream expressions of faith seems at a very low ebb. People LIKE the idea of heavenly beings charged with taking care of us....a reassurance that we are not on our own in a hostile universe.

But, you know, the Biblical experience of angels is very very different.

Often their arrival seems to be anything but reassuring – and perhaps that's why every angelic appearance in the New Testament opens with the words

“Don't be afraid”

Annunciation, Ressurrection, Ascension...

Heaven in all its dazzling splendour breaks into our world. Time is interrupted by eternity

It's alarming stuff right enough – even before we've discovered quite what it is that the angel has to say.

Just think of the most famous angelic appearance of all.....Gabriel's mission to Mary.

Imagine yourself as that teenage girl, minding her own business in an obscure corner of the Roman Empire.

Hear those words spoken to you.

“Do not be afraid Mary – for you have found favour with God. You will bear a son”

BEAR A SON!

Me?!?!

No wonder Gabriel feels the need to begin the conversation by speaking reassurance.

“Do not be afraid...”

Words that suggest that he knows he has already lost that particular battle!

And só often that's how it seems.

Angels break into our world as messengers of heaven – and their tidings turn the world upside down.

Like a stone dropped into a pond, their messages ripple outwards, touching and changing many lives in ways we could never imagine.

Jacob is at a pretty low ebb when he has his vision of angels

He has cheated his brother out of his birthright, run away from home and is sleeping rough

He's not on retreat, attending to his soul. He's on the run. He's scared, and he's tired. Since he has a stone for his pillow it may not be surprising that his sleep is disturbed.....but his vision is one that sums up the ceaseless activity of angels as they act as go-betweens constantly carrying messages between our world and heaven.

Jacob sees

a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it

That's the vision – and then Jacob hears his own good news.......that God has a plan for him, - even fraudulent, fearful Jacob - and will not forsake him til that plan has become a reality.

Angels prepare us to hear of God's plans

They appear at times and in situations that may seem most unpromising...as agents and messengers of God's good news.

And their words and their presence awakens us to a truth that we all forget

Jacob put it this way

“Surely the Lord is in this place and I knew it not”

Angels alert us to God at work in our world...they point towards God's actions, his plans, his presence

Good news then....

Which brings me to one more thing.....their name ANGEL means messanger but it shares its roots with another message of good news – EVANGELISM

Perhaps my childhood self wasn't that far out in confusing the saints and the angels of that poem!

And perhaps that's where we come in

We are not, surely, to be content to be passive recipients of the Good News the angels bring...

Like them, we have a calling to point out those surprising places where God is at work in our world só that others too may see and celebrate

And, for ourselves, having noted God at work we are to join in the ceaseless chorus of praise that resounds throughout creation

“Therefore with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven we laud and magnify thy holy name

Evermore praising thee and saying “Holy, holy, holy. Lord God of hosts. Heaven and earth are full of thy glory. Glory be to thee O Lord most high”

Thoughts for St Matthew's Day

 On Friday we held a St Matthew's day service for our school – during which we thought alot about our priorities in life. In the grand tradition of reality television I invited half a dozen children to represent “lots of money” “lots of chocolate” “an iPhone 5” “friends and family” “Peace” “Happiness” - then explained that we couldn't keep all of them, só we voted them off one by one.

You'll be glad to hear that the children chose wisely – dispensing with the quick fixes – money, chocolate and all – and hanging on to Peace and Happiness – though they agreed that it can sometimes be hard to make the right decisions.

Then we heard the story of Levi – who became Matthew- and marvelled at how his priorities had changed when he had that watershed encounter with Jesus.

He became, it seems, a different person...one who set his past behind him só thoroughly that it might never have existed.

He literally dropped everything to follow Jesus

And, like other saints who found thimselves doing a U turn, he acquired a new name to represent his new life

Amazing.

Levi the sinner became Matthew the saint...Matthew the story teller....Matthew the evangelist....

In this church, of course, he is our patron – só how can his story become our own?

One thing I love about it is that it begins on just an ordinary day.

Levi has gone to work as usual

He isn't among the crowds following Jesus.

He isn't obviously on a Great Spiritual Quest.

He is just sitting there collecting taxes.

And there, in the midst of his everyday life, Jesus comes to find him and turns his life upside down with a two word invitation

“Follow me”

That's what Jesus does again and again...

He comes to us in the daily muddle of our lives

Supremely, of course, he comes in the Incarnation – entering into our world in all its broken messy reality...but this is not a story of once and long ago but a story of today.

Today Jesus comes to you...He comes to me... and calls each of us by name.

He takes the initiative...”coming ready or not” he says.

And that's just as well – for we are very rarely ready.

Só he comes and finds as where we are.

We don't have to be wrestling with immortal longings.

We certainly don't have to be waiting in a state of expectant holiness – indeed, his call is specifically for we, who are far from holy

“I don't come to call the righteous but sinners...”

Jesus comes to us and we just have to respond.

Matthew got up and followed him.

That response may feel like a new birth – as we walk away from things that have confined us, made us less than the people God made us to be.

That's part of what we celebrate as we hear again the story of Matthew's call...the way Jesus sees our untapped potential and invites us to fulfill it...

But change and challenge can be too close for comfort.

Imagine, if you will, how hard it might be to walk away from a steady liveliehood, from all that is safe and familiar – the tax collector's booth, the life dedicated to our own satisfaction.

It can seem a costly choice for new beginnings aren't possible without some kind of an ending – that can feel very like death

We have to set aside our old way of being and try to re-order our lives and our priorities in line with that new intention to follow Christ – and that can be só very hard.

For myself, I've found that I need to renew my decision, confirm my intention again and again and again.

Sometimes it seems easier to stick with the old order – the world of selfish gain and short term pleasure – than to admit that I'm among the sick who needs a doctor, among the broken who depend on God's mercy.

But Jesus never tires of offering his invitation...He never gives up on us...and having called us, he celebrates with us – just as he shared that meal at Matthew's house

Jesus wants us to eat with him – that's why we're here this morning.

But having feasted with us, he will give each of us a new job to do.

It's the same job that he gave to Matthew...to become an evangelist – one who shares the good news that each one of us, whether we count ourselves successes or failures, is extravagantly loved by the One who calls us to follow Him to fresh possibilities, new beginnings and lives transformed by His grace.

On sheep and shepherds - a love story for Trinity 16

I wonder if it has ever struck you that when we gather here for worship week on week, we do so in celebration of a love story.

Perhaps that's stating the obvious...

We know, don't we, that God so loved the world...but sometimes we need reminding just what that means.

It's all too easy to get caught up measuring our own goodness or lack thereof – and it's even easier to find ourselves making judgements about the lives of others – the way they dress, spend their money, discipline their children...

A prime example this past week was Michael Gove's criticism of the lifestyles of some who use foodbanks – and I know that his views are shared by others who are só intent on making value judgements about other people that they've almost lost sight of our shared humanity.

That tendency to weigh others in the balance and find them wanting is not confined to the Pharisees who accosted Jesus...it's alive and well in our community and even in our church...but that's NOT what the gospel is about.

The gospel is all about love.

It's that which means we're in no position to judge. Even if we managed, as the Pharisees believed that they did, to obey every letter of the law we would trip up over our failure to love.

Jesus begins his story, as he só often does, by asking a question

 ‘Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it?

It's a good question...só stop for a minute to think about your answer.

Honestly

If you had 99 sheep trotting along happily– would you REALLY bother to go in search of the 1 that couldn't play nicely? The loner, the trouble maker, the one who didn't fit in?

Would you risk the safety of the flock – just leave them amid all the dangers of the wilderness while you went to look for JUST ONE???

It doesn't seem prudent. It doesn't even seem kind.

All those good little sheep deserve care and attention. Surely a good shepherd should not just abandon them...

No, Jesus, I don't think I'd answer your question in the way that you hope.

If I were the shepherd, then the flock would be left incomplete...one sheep lost forever.

But thankfully I'm not the shepherd.

I'm one of the sheep. And só are you. Perhaps you feel that you're one of the majority, grazing calmly with your fellows, travelling obediently along the path that is set before you...And that might make you a little sad, even indignant when the shepherd – and the Church that exists to join in with His work – insists on making such a fuss about the missing sheep. What's so special about that one missing sheep after all? It's not exactly a prize merino, is it...WHY does it matter.

It matters, of course, because God loves it with a love that WILL NOT LET HIM REST until the flock is complete.

That's the gospel..the good news for all of us.....because, you know, actually each of us is also that one lost sheep...

Willfull....Confused....Downright disobedient......We've all chosen to wander away from the Shepherd from time to time....but HE NEVER EVER LEAVES US ASTRAY

.

He loves us too much.

I was once at a toddler group when one of a pair of twins vanished.

One moment their mother was happily chatting to a friend, the next she had abandoned the conversation and was scanning every corner of the room for her missing son. It didn’t matter that her daughter was safely by her side…she needed to find that small boy so badly he might have been the only child she had. Her daughter, though, was sensible. As her mother swooped off to the furthest corners of the room, she was followed by a small but determined figure, who had no intention of letting her mother out of her sight.

The whole drama didn’t last long, and ended in a happy reunion behind a stack of tables.…but for a brief period maybe those of us involved had an inkling of the way God feels about each one of us. He loves us so much, that we might be his only child. He actively seeks us out when we have wandered away or broken off communications with Him. It’s almost as if He feels incomplete when one of us is missing. He takes every risk, right down to sending his own Son, to seek us out and rescue us.

And that leaves us with another question...

Are WE in the right place?

perhaps we should ask ourselves whether, if the one sheep is with the shepherd, it might not be the 99 who have gone astray

If Jesus is somewhere out there on the margins, hunting for missing sheep, shouldn’t we be out there with him. Surely the most important question for each of us is not

“Is Jesus with me?” but “Am I where Jesus is” for we can trust him to lead us into new pastures, to keep us from harm, and indeed to lay down his life for us.

That's just the way love works.

In no particular order 2) Being Church

7 years ago when I visited India, it was very much as part of my ministerial development. My brief was to learn from the life and experiences of clergy in the Church of South India - and I hope I did so.
Mostly, though, I was completely blown away by the experience of being in India - the sights, sounds, smells...the overwhelming friendliness and hospitality I received wherever I went. There were also some important lessons about letting go of my own children for a while and learning to spread my wings just as they were spreading theirs...

This trip, my official brief was to support and co-lead the group of teenagers in our care - but ironically, I was far more conscious of the reality of the world-wide Church as the Body of Christ and of all that we have in common, and the fact that I wasn't tied to a particular church, even for a short time, enabled a wider experience of church life in different contexts.

There were many special conversations and times when the sense of unity in Christ was so strong it was the biggest single reality - but I'd like to share four particular highlights, that enlarged my vision and helped me to visualise the worshipping Church as Good News.

The 1st was on our first Sunday in Karnataka, when we were prised away from the home comforts of the CSI Guest House in Bangalore to be given a glimpse of the reality of life in rural India, as we visited Chickballapur, Gangasandra (where our hosts in the CSI hostel for boys even gave up their beds for us) and, the next morning, Tumkur.
This was exciting for many reasons - not simply the presence of a random Temple elephant whom we passed by the roadside as we hurried to church.
The REALLY exciting thing, for me at any rate, was that one of the four churches our group visited that day was presided over by my friend Revd Rachel Priyarani....A reunion with Rachel was one of my greatest hopes for this trip to India - and to find myself directed to the bathroom "in the pastor's house over there" and discover that SHE was the pastor in question was a complete delight! A happy hour catching up and sharing memories in her kitchen while she made a huge pile of chapattis to feed our group reassured me that this was a real friendship - not simply the product of my own longing to feel connected with the ministry of the church here. Later that evening, after I had preached to her evening congregation - who had warmly welcomed the whole group and produced the inevitable flowers for all of us - she gave me one of the best gifts of all. After the prayer of consecration, she handed me the ciborium and dropped to her knees beside me - enabling me to give her the Sacrament, and then to share it with each one of her congregation. That evening, of course, the congregation included our own band of pilgrims - and it was hugely important for me to give them Communion by name at this early point in our journey together. The evening service at Bishop Gill Church is held in English, which made it easy for us to feel at home - but for me it was the warmth of Rachel's smile and her grace in welcoming me to share her ministry that made the difference. I've been privileged to spend time with her now on 3 different occasions, twice in India and once here in England. My hope and prayer is that our friendship is now so confirmed that it is unthinkable that we'll not meet again - though sometimes I could do with a rather smaller world.

In contrast, my other highlights in worship were in churches where we couldn't understand a word of what was going on. The first was in the Tamil church of the Good Shepherd in the Kolar Gold Fields, where we were warned that the congregation on a Thursday evening would be small - and highly traditional. Not a word of English was spoken during the course of the service, during which we mostly sat on floor mats (men on the right, women on the left) and listened as the congregation sang the traditional hymns and lyrics, with their tabla, harmonium and Indian bells - but I think each one of us was caught up in the atmosphere of focussed prayer that surrounded us. There was never a moment of doubt that deep and faithful worship was going on - which it was a privilege to be involved in. Incidentally, that "small" congregation numbered around 60 - with an age-range from twenties to eighties..The young Indian woman praying beside me somehow carried me in her prayers without our exchanging a word throughout - and I'll not easily forget the lovely stillness of her presence.

Finally, 2 Sundays ago, I found myself preaching once again - this time at Christ Church Hosur. Again the service was in Tamil, so I had the slightly disconcerting experience of pausing at the end of every sentence to allow a translation - while having absolutely NO idea whether the translator was actually sticking to my script at all. Apparently he mostly did - but couldn't resist expanding on some points. As Tamil seems to be a more involved language than English, even a direct translation took quite a while - which meant that my "about God, about 10 minutes" sermon was miraculously expanded to fit the longer slot that Indian congregations expect. Earlier in the trip, one pastor told me that if HE had dared to preach for just 10 minutes his congregation would instantly assume that he knew nothing whatever about Scripture - and be phoning complaints to the bishop without delay. 
This, however, was not what made it a memorable Sunday.
This church has a history of resisting women's ministry and it will be many a year before an ordained woman can pastor there. Though I had no idea at the time, I was making history in preaching - and later I found that I was pushing a few more boundaries, in blissful ignorance.

You see, once again the pastor of the church generously invited me to give Communion to his entire congregation.

All 1000 of them.

It was an extraordinary experience. The sheer number of hands was overwhelming in itself. Though I have been part of congregations of that size before, at ordinations or at Greenbelt for example, the norm in those situations is to have several stations for Communion. Here, every single man, woman and child came and knelt at the altar rail, and opened their hands so that God could fill them.
And SUCH hands
The soft white hands of my fellow travellers
Brown hands
The work hardened hands of some elderly men 
A few hands with deformities - missing fingers, at least one fearful scar gouged right across the palm
Hands knarled by arthritis
The chubby hands of children
All of them stretched out, - and me, ME given the joyous task of offering what they were asking for.

At the door afterwards there were many requests for blessings, many babies placed in my arms so that I could pray for them, many many moments when the language barrier faded to nothing as I was asked to do what I'm ordained to do - to pray, to reconcile, to bless.

For me India is, supremely, a place of hospitality - and in that church on that morning I glimpsed for a moment the faintest echo of the endless hospitality of God - who places himself, literally, in the hands of whoever asks.

"Father against son and son against father" - words for Trinity 12C at St Matthew's

51Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division! 52From now on, five in one household will be divided, three against two and two against three; 53they will be divided:
father against son
   and son against father,
mother against daughter
   and daughter against mother,
mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law
   and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.’

That may sound rather too close to the current state of the Church of England – divided over women bishops, gay priests, fracking and a whole let else besides – and if it does, it probably does not fill you with hope or joy.

We tend to think that to be set against something is always bad – that harmony and unity are goods to be pursued at all cost.

But sometimes, you know, it's worth taking a stand AGAINST something

In India I spent a lot of time singing the sort of Sunday school songs that my own mother learned in childhood – songs that are, for the most part, considered far too old fashioned for the sophisticated children of 21^st century Gloucestershire...One such was “Dare to be a Daniel – dare to stand alone”

and perhaps that's closer to the spirit of today's gospel than the infighting of the institutional church.

Sometimes there are things worth standing up for – whatever the apparent cost.

Let me tell you a story – not from this visit to India, but from my previous adventure there 7 years ago.

I'd spent some time wrestling with the legacy of the British Raj.

Was it something to applaud or mourn?

To be honest, I'm still not sure.

Disturbingly, to be white still seems a passport to instant respect.

A blessing from English hands is valued more than an Indian one, and to the young Indian to be westernised is to be to sophisticated and successful.

That’s a real issue –for westernisation brings as many problems as blessings.

However, nothing is ever quite straightforward in India. Just as soon as you think you've got a handle on something, fresh light shows new perspectives – and I'm still not sure whether the work of the British in India is something to cherish or to lament.

Some of my Indian friends, though, are quite clear about it.

People like Andrew a Sunday school worker with Church of South India.

Like 70% of Indian Christians, Andrew's family is dalit, - the untouchable caste that is still seen in some areas as barely human, the lowest of the low,valued so much less than those beasts that Hindus revere as gods.

But his grandfather converted to Christianity, following what amounted to a miracle – a miracle that both gave him a great deal and cost him a great deal too.

Grandpa was employed by a British tea planter, a Christian who held daily prayers for his household...but grandfather, a devout Hindu, was not convinced.

He liked his employer, valued the kindness that was offered to all the staff, but remained steadfast to the faith of his own ancestors. Then one day he had an accident at work, breaking his hip...hospital treatment was some days journey away, and by the time he arrived gangrene had set in and amputation seemed inevitable. Surgery was planned for the following day, and he lay in great pain and utter desolation. How could he hope to support his family as a cripple? What could he do in in the face of such ruin? Where could he turn.

As he lay there on his hard hospital bed he noticed a picture of Jesus, which the face familiar from pictures in his employer's home...

In some desperation prayed

"I am in too much pain. If you are indeed a god, act."

That night his pain did not keep him awake, and instead he slept deeply and dreamed vividly of two men in white who came to him and assured him that Jesus had indeed healed his leg. In the morning, astounded doctors found that the gangrene had gone, the broken bone was whole and, not surprisingly, grandfather converted to Christianity on the spot.

Wonderful, life changing stuff – but carrying within it the seeds of another change – the sort that sets father against son and mother in law against daughter in law.

His grandfather's conversion meant that he was rejected by his own community, driven from the family home, threatened with violence, subjected to scorn and vitriol.

Even today, when Andrew returns home to his village, he is ostracised, out cast.

But, he says, it is worth it.

For Andrew, Christianity represents an open door, an escape route from the confines of the eternal cycle of karma to freedom and dignity as a child of God.

There are, you see, some things that are more important even than family unity.

You may never find yourself having to stand against those whom you love for the sake of your faith – but today's gospel reminds us that following Christ should never be an easy option. To be honest, if it has never yet cost you anything, you might need to ask yourself whether you're actually living as one of his disciples – or just coming along to a pleasant religious social club.

Think about that.

About what it is in your faith that might inspire you to hold fast no matter what...for Jesus emphatically does not promise an easy ride.

He does, though, promise life everlasting.

In no particular order -reflections on my 2nd visit to India. 1) Multi faith society

I was intrigued when I got home from Bangalore on Wednesday to see that the media was busy reporting Rowan Williams' recent interview in which he suggested that UK Christians claiming persecution should reflect on the true persecution that their brothers and sisters in other lands experience and, not to put too fine a point on it, "grow up".

I'd very much agree with the former ABC...there is a wealth of difference between being asked not to wear a cross at work and facing actual physical violence, and I've come home impressed by the way that different faiths seem to co-exist quite peacefully, even respectfully, in Karnataka.

In India, Christianity is very much a minority faith - owned by just 2% of the population - and of course in some parts of the country it IS under threat. Just google "attacks on Christians in Bihar" to read about the sort of persecution that the early martyrs might have encountered. However, in the diocese of Karnataka Central, and particularly in that great melting pot that is the city of Bangalore, things seem very different. 

We were there during Ramadan, at a time when you might have expected tensions to escalate. After all, nobody is at their best when trying to function on an empty stomach - but we encountered neither sight nor sound of religious tension. Instead, wherever we went we heard stories of co-operation between neighbours that reminded me of the idealised community we imagine was the English village of yesteryear.

Out at Kannapura, Revd Shilpa told how her Hindu neighbours were great supporters of the tiny church that meets in her home, how they always attended harvest and Christmas celebrations and would work alongside her congregation to raise funds for the new church building that will soon become a reality.

In Bangalore, almost every school we visited welcomed children of all faiths, many had special arrangements in place for Ramadan but not one of them compromised their Christian identity even for a second. Thus it was that at the CSI Zenana Mission School one morning we found ourselves singing Sunday school choruses my mother learned at the feet of CIM missionaries in Chefoo before WW2 with a congregation of 100% Muslim children - in the shadow of a Hindu Temple arch. 

The whole multi faith situation in microcosm.

I asked repeatedly if there were any problems, any tensions - and was assured that no, the Church was respected and appreciated. When I pushed a senior cleric as to why this should be so he summed it up very neatly

"For you in the west, the cross is seen as a sign of victory. Here in India it is a sign of service. Our neighbours respect us because they know that we will work tirelessly for the well-being of the community. If we do that because of our faith, then our faith is worth reverence..."

Perhaps that's the issue which should concern those Christians who feel that that they are being oppressed in 21st century Britain. Have we done anything to EARN the respect and love of our neighbours - or do we, by treating them with suspicion and alarm, pave the way ourselves for misunderstanding and division? 

Perhaps we should focus rather more on love in action and less on imagined slights.Who knows, perhaps if we visibly loved our neighbours, they might feel more inclined to love us!