Today I had my first 'skinny fairtrade latte' since before Lent began, balanced by the first 'heart attack on a plate' in the same duration.  Hurrah for supermarket cafes!  I was working, honestly, trying (and succeeding eventually) in finding a Christian bookshop that would provide roughly what I want for our Pentecost Party.

What I had in mind was a stall selling 'Christian Tat' so that any children who come along with their pocket money to spend can buy, say, a pencil with a cute lamb on it or a 'Jesus loves me' eraser; some birthday cards, the odd (well not too odd really) item of God-jewellery... the kind of thing people will buy at a 'fete', non-threatening, useable trivia.  So why do the shops try to flog me loads of SCARY tracts?!  The nice lady in the independent shop eventually agreed to no books and 'just a few trackts' (sic), having shown me some that were seriously scary.  Imagine the scene, nice family day out at local place of interest, Bappy minister has painted little Johnny's face as a tiger, you have purchased a Fairtrade wooden box for granny, you've been given a 10p off voucher for the cafe at the churches together stand, made a brass rubbing, had a picnic and then you pause at the Christian bits and bobs stall attracted by a bright display of 'free leaflets'...  You casually open a leaflet that tells you that you are evil and bound for eternal fire.  Do you (a) get on your knees and repent (b) put it down and leave thinking these Christians are not such nice people after all?  Dim question.  Let's face it, if we went to a community event organised by another faith group we'd be miffed if we were told we were going down unless we believed what they believe, so why do our oh so earnest shops think we must?

Are there any organisations who produce decent giveaway leaflets?  Not that I think we have to have them, Jesus seemed to do fine without, it would just be helpful to have a positive alternative 'up my sleeve' so to speak.  I'm planning to 'forget' the tracts when I take the stuff to our Pentecost Party (and be praying like mad that no one else decides to take theirs along!) because what we actually want to say is 'hey, we can have fun too.'  People will be invited to our open air service the next day, surely that is 'tract' enough?

There seems to be a gulf between the worldview of those involved in any contemporary forms of mission/evangelism and the resources that are available in our shops.  Maybe you think I've just sold out somewhere down the line, but I know I cringe when someone hands me a turn-or-burn tract, so I'm not about to give them to anyone else.

Next Wednesday I am speaking to a ladies' meeting in Manchester!  They have even altered their date to fit my availability, so I'd better be good.  I am speaking on Mary and Martha - Luke 10 and John 11.  Two very different tales that give us some different takes on these sisters.

Martha - you know her, careworn red hands, face lined from frowning, always busy cooking and cleaning.  Mary, beautiful, attentive, deeply spiritual... well that's the kind of images I grew up with anyway.  So which one is it who recognises Jesus as who he is...?  Why do Luke and John give us these seemingly contrasting portaits?  Are they, in fact, contrasting?  Or is it just that somewhere I have sold out to an unfair image of Martha (even if she's the one I feel more like, busy, practical and, when all's said and done, is making sure Jesus plus 12 hungry blokes and countless hangers on get the best dinner she can cook - yes, I know, that's Sunday School eisegesis or worse, but you get my drift).

Somewhere in what I share I want to affirm both Mary and Martha, and to recongise the times when it is right to be either or both of them, that actually they both live within each of us.  To note that sitting at Jesus' feet (the good child who knows all the answers in Sunday school) does not automatically lead to recognising him as Lord; to suggest that the busy, practical woman who at times puts family or community before church is not automatically less spiritual than the one who is there every week looking both gorgeous and suitably pious!

There's nothing radical or new here, and I owe a debt of gratitude to Stuart J for his amazing Mary and Martha sermon of a few years back, but I hope that my thoughts will say something to these 21st century women who meet for worship on a Wednesday afternoon and then scurry home to cook tea for husbands and families...

This Sunday's sermon will be based on the Emmaus Road story.  Given the length of the journey - some scholars say 3.5 miles, others 7 (depends on if it was a round trip distance that was recorded apparently) - what we get told by Luke is a very minimalist precis.  So here is where Sunday's sermon will go...

First of all, Jesus met Cleopas and friend where they were - on a journey, feeling lost, confused, bewildered, perplexed, stuck in their own little world.

Then, he let them tell their story.  He did not interrupt (so far as we are told) just let them tell it as it was for them.

Then, 'foolish and slow' comment not withstanding, he reminded them of ancient promises - we don't know what exactly, no one tells us.  The Moses story - the one they have just had a festival to commemorate - speaks of God's faithfulness of hope despite the oppression of slavery in Egypt.  The obvious prophecy Luke's gospel has Jesus quoting to refer to himself is one of hope and action (Luke 4: 18-19/Isaiah 61: 1 - 2).  Jesus doesn't ask them to 'Turn Take, Trust, Thank' or 'Admit, Believe, Confess' or put crowns rather than self on a chair, he offers them wonderful promises of a trustworthy God and a vision of a different world.

Then HE accepts THEIR invitation to share food - something utterly ordinary and accepting of them as they were.  In a very earthy and practical way, he is invited to be with them.  "Come and be part of our everyday life, we have something to offer you"

Only then, as they are doing something as ordinary as sharing a meal, do they realise who he is and race back to Jerusalem to tell the news to others.

It seems to me that this passage offers us lots of things...

• promises for when we find ourselves in Cleopas' place
• a reminder that we don't take Jesus with us into the world, Jesus turns up whenever and wherever he wants to, recognised or not
• a model for pastoral support - listening and offering hope (not advice or solutions!)
• a Jesus approach to evangelism - walking with people, earning their trust, entering their places, receiving from them what they can offer us, and being surprised by joy in the process as it is they, not us, who recongise Christ and take the news to others.

In many ways on Easter Sunday nothing changed - the Romans still occupied the land, people still got crucified, the Temple still functioned as before, violence and injustice continued - and yet everything changed for Cleopas and friend as they discovered a new way of seeing, a new way of walking into a future shaped by promises of hope and a love that was stronger than death.

Reflecting on the story has been helpful for me - challenging tempations to too much eisegesis (reading in) and interpretation and allowing myself to stand in the places of Cleopas and (dare I say it) Jesus as they walked together as Easter people in a Good Friday world.