Today's sermon on the woman caught out in adultery ranged over quite a lot of stuff... the gender inequality/injustice enshrined in holy writ, the fact that I cannot imagine anyone ever sets out to commit adultery, that all of us is vulnerable to adulteries whether sexual or otherwise, that it needs opportunity, invitation/initiation and consent. I even noted that the woman was freed whilst the man was left with his guilty secrets - so did he really get away with it?

The new thing for me was when it struck me that "go and sin no more" was not a finger-wagging "you got away with it this time but..."  No, if we recognise that 'sin' means 'falling short of a target' rather than 'wilfully choosing the wrong thing' then it may better be heard as, "you deserve something so much better than this cheap, tawdry imitation of love" or "this falls way short of what God wants for you" or maybe even "don't settle for second best".

If we can hear it like that - that "all have sinned and fallen short" is not about being bad but about being fallible and finite, is about missing out on the best because we settle for less - then it becomes less harsh and more like our own experience.  Whatever it may be, in our own place of sin/failure, embarrassment/exposure Jesus refuses to condemn us and says "you're worth so much more than this, put it behind you and live the life you deserve".

I had a good morning, I hope others found it helpful/interesting/challenging/comforting or whatever was needful.

Saturday is a slightly strange day in my world... technically it's a working day (ostensibly I am available six days out of seven) but it's also a slower day, a day to catch up on household tasks, make final tweaks ahead of Sunday worship and generally be there if anyone needs me.

One Saturday morning a month, the cats and I take an hour or so to listen to the smallVOICE podcast, and it is always time well spent.  Wide-ranging, thoughtful and thought-provoking, it is worth listening to.  I don't always share the views expressed, and nor will you, and that is part of the joy of this podcast.  Always topical, always gracious it is one of the few things that I make a special effort to listen to.

If you fancy listening to this month's edition, then go here.  I am biased because people I know and love are among the those speaking in this edition, but it picks up some really important topics worth considering.

Otherwise, just enjoy the kitty cats photo, and have a great Saturday (whatever day it is) yourself.

Last Sunday I preached a sermon on "a woman with an issue of blood."  It was a somewhat experimental approach, centring on the shocking nature of the story, and the shocking reality of what the woman had already endured before, having touched Jesus' garment, her condition was exposed as, falling at Jesus' feet, she told her story.

In the sermon I alluded to two photographs that, having sounded out other women ministers, I opted not to use as illustrations.  As is the way of these things, the story of their discomfort in response to the images was a helpful 'way in' to a story that is shocking precisely because it challenges the taboo around menstruation, gynaecological issues and the like.

I haven't had much feedback as yet.  A small number of people did say they loved it and/or found it helpful, a smaller number have hinted at disquiet with the whole endeavour, and each of these is fine.  It's a shocking story, the poor woman has been forced to live outside polite society for 12 years and now, in a moment, she is blurting out the whole tale to a huge crowd.  It's shocking because Jesus, whom she has touched and therefore defiled, calls her 'daughter', credits her new-found wellness with faith and dismisses her in peace.  It's shocking because is shames the culture that says menstruation of gynaelcological conditions or stomas or catheters, or whatever it may be, are shameful.... private, yes; personal, for sure, shameful, no, no, no!  It is shocking because it exposes the fear of exposure, even perhaps exposes exposure for what it is, and in so doing subverts it.

For once I will make no apology to anyone who was discomfitted or worse... the whole point of this story is precisely that is discomforts us, disturbs us, challenges us...  And for those among us who live with hidden, unmentionable conditions, or even the perfectly natural process of menstruation, it offers the gentle embrace of a Lord who calls us 'daughter', 'son'; who cannot be defiled by our touch, but, mysteriously transforms it for our own well-being.

Two more sermons in this series.  Adultery and demons... watch this space!

Oh yes, the photos... fairly small versions, and feel free to look away now if menstrual blood embarasses or offends...

This week, and to a degree, last week, has been charactrised by "hmm" moments.  From the out-of-the-blue contact from a school friend I last saw in 1971 (and a now almost sorted meet up later in the month) to the equally unexpected "I'm sure I know who that former organist is, and we were in the same place at the same time 30 years ago" to the "I know this sounds a bit strange but..." request from the organisation I vounteer with.

Each of these has encouraged and affirmed me - and each feels a little bit like Divine teasing, which makes me smile and restores my soul.

It has also been a week when there have been delightful surprises - not things that can yet be shared publicly, but  which have made my heart sing - all to do with our shared life as a local church.

And then the realisation that rule-follower me can be subversive precisely by following the rules!  I kind of knew that anyway, but perhaps in working on my experimental sermons, each a teeny bit subversive, I have re-connected with that part of my inner being.  It is a little known fact that rule-followers and good-children often get away with things that others might not!

In a few minutes I will be off out to share in one of my best-loved routine aspect of ministry - sharing Commuinion in the home of someone now housebound.

Next time I'm a bit melancholic or self-pitying, I hope weeks like this will serve as signposts of God's grace, love and sense of the ridiculous!

I used to know a minister (well I still do, but they are no longer a colleague) who would sometimes say, "if you were religious you might think that God had something to do with it."  It always made us chuckle and we knew exactly what we meant.  We didn't "do" a kind of cheap theology that glibly attributes good or bad to God or satan, we didn't expect God to be surprising us at every turn, rather we trusted that God was there even when we felt God to be silent or absent.

Today a message was forwarded to me that had been sent via our church website... it was from a former school friend who I last saw in 1971, when she and her family moved to Australia, just a year before we moved to another part of Northamptonshire.  As is so often the way, our letters, sent surface mail and taking months to arrive, petered out over a few years.  Over the past few years, I've tried several times to track her down, wondering where she was and how life had worked out for her.

The email came out of the blue - turns out she is visiting relatives in the UK, and the wife of her cousion is the big sister of one of my classmates, who knew I was in Glasgow (via the now defunct "Friends Reunited").  It was a lovely email, full of encouragement and a shared faith, and its arrival really "blessed" me.  If I was religious, I might think that God had something to do with it!

That's grace - not something anyone can predict or manufacture.

That's God - prompting or preciptating unexpected blessings in the ordinariness of life.