This morning was the first of our two services using the JPIT material.  Because I've just had two Sundays off we have two weeks to explore four themes, so I chose to pair them up as 'Truth & Justice' and "Peace & Wellbeing'.  The format was deliberately chosen so that there was less of me speaking and more opportunity to listen for God's voice in scripture and in the vox pop videos offered by JPIT.  It seemed to work quite well.

It is rare I post anything sermony that I've written, not least as it is a heck of a lot of words.  But here, for what it's worth, is the script from which I worked today.  For it to make sense you need to know that one of the Bible stories we used was the parable of the landownder who hired people to work in his vineyard at various points through the day (Matt 20: 1 - 16)

“What is truth?” asked Pilate.  And it is a question that philosophers and theologians have pondered throughout the whole of history.

“I am the truth,” said Jesus – but what did he mean by that?  Was he making a divine claim or an ethical one?  What did he mean when he said his purpose was to testify to the truth, or that if his followers knew the truth they would find liberation?

Is there one ultimate, absolute truth?  Or are all truths partial and imperfect? 

We say we want politicians and other people in power to tell us the truth, but what do we actually mean by that?  There are clearly facts that can be verified about any issue we choose to consider, but facts are never viewed in isolation, they are always part of a narrative, a story, an interpretive framework that seeks to make meaning from what is, otherwise, raw data.  Given the same information, different people conditioned by different experiences will interpret it differently; each may be truthful in their endeavour, but none is value free.  Perhaps that’s what Pilate was hinting at – the difference between verifiable fact and interpreted truth.

And perhaps that’s why Jesus’ story about the workers is so challenging – the interpretive framework that validates the landowner’s actions challenges the established truth that a person is paid in direct proportion to the amount of hours they have worked – that an hourly rate or a piece-rate is self-evidently a fair and just way for rewarding employees.  The more you work, the more you get paid… the way of the world, an indisputable truth, or a value judgement conditioned by a context that values productivity?

The landowner in the story chooses to break with expectations and pays everyone the same sum of money, irrespective of how many hours they worked, or how productively they filled that time.  Understandably, those who have worked long and hard question the justice of this decision: it seems unfair; it’s not the way the world works.  And those who arrived late, whose voices are not heard are almost certainly equally bewildered, delighted for sure, but conscious that this is not the way it is.  An equal hourly rate for all the workers would have seemed fair, just… an equal day’s salary irrespective of hours worked is certainly not equal by any measure with which we are familiar.

So we are left with puzzles to ponder…

What might justice look like if it is not exactly the same thing as equality? And if we value equality, of what, and in what, and how?  Who might be the unhired workers in the metaphorical marketplace of our society, willing and able to play their part but for whatever reason not engaged?  Who are the hard workers and what does justice or fairness look like for them?

Whose truth do we listen to?  What values shape the narratives by which we live our lives?  If truth is linked to integrity and authenticity, how do we demonstrate that in the choices we make, the questions we ask, and the votes we cast?

Jesus said, ‘If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.’ What might liberation look like, not simply for us and those like us, but for our neighbours, near and far?  How do we begin to live truthfully the hope of which we speak?

This weekend it will be six years since I visited two churches in the Glasgow-ish area to see if either might be where God was calling me.  I have many abiding memories... The incredible architecture of the church to which I felt no sense of call whatsoever, and the kindliness of the folk there, gracious to the last.  The tacky tartanalia of the hotel I stayed in near the airport, and the opulence of the appartment I stayed in in Glasgow (and the honey nut cornflakes for breakfast!).  The cullen skink and great conversation in the restaurant that had once been a Bible college after it had been a church with remarkable ceiling painting.  The discovery of Torness Street, which made me smile.  The hospitality and rapidly rustled up chicken dinner with folk who are now friends.  And the azaleas in the Botanic Gardens, a riot of colour on a glorious spring weekend.  My recollection is that every spring I've been here, my "squinty anniversary" has been warm and sunny.  I'm told the forecast for Saturday is rain, so I may yet be made a liar, but there really is a sense of spring springing now.

So much has occurred in those years, and I do seem to find myself in reflective mood much of the time.  But for today, I shall enjoy the sunshine, take my sandwiches up to the Botanics, enjoy the flowers and look out for 'my' special squirrel (with the damaged tail) who I haven't seen in a long time.

After a very relaxed break, it is back to work, and that feels good, if a little hectic and a fair amount of tail-chasing happening as I catch up on what's been happening.

On Sunday we have the first of two services based on the JPIT material "Love Your Neighbour: Think, Pray, Vote" where we will be focussing on Truth and Justice (next week Peace and Well-being).  So this afternoon I have been reflecting on the Bible readings and researching thoughts on 'truth' and 'justice' and being reminded what slippry words they are!

This weekend it is exactly six years since I first preached in Glasgow, and every time I reach this date it gives me pause for thought.  Such a lot has happened since then, for good and ill, and I do sometimes wonder, if folk could have known what lay ahead if they'd have made the same call.  I certainly have no regrets whatsoever, and am happy to be here, doing my best.  Definitely refreshed by my time out, and knowing that there is plenty to do between now and the next break which is... um, a long way off!

My thoughts and prayers are with the people of "Dibley" Baptist Church following the death earlier today of their minister.

Having been there a little shy of four years, arriving as a fairly mature in years NAM, he and his wife served the church with energy and enthusiasm, notably guiding them to set up a community cafe as an outreach opportunity.  He was due to have been 'handshaked' at this years Assembly and will now instead be among those whose passing it recorded.

Rev P. L. may light perptual shine upon you; may you rest in peace and rise in glory.

In a little over a week, it will be six years since I first met the people of The Gathering Place... the start of a very enjoyable and challenging relationship that continues to develop.  It was a time when Dibley Baptists were really struggling and I was supporting them best I could through a painful transition.  Six yeras later, they are once again in a painful place, a very different one but no less traumatic, indeed, probably more so.  An enthusiastic and creative minister who has been with them around about four years is terminally ill... my heart goes out to him and to them as they try to negotiate these weeks of letting go.

One of the scripture 'sentences' I use at funerals is half a verse from Deuteronomy... "the eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms".  It's a great promise and a tender, reassuring image.  I pray for P & C that they will know this promise in these days, and for the Dibley BC folk as they once more face upheaval and challenge.

And, if I'm honest, it gives me pause, as I continue to be NED more than four years on from my own diagnosis with cancer.  None of knows what is round the corner - we really do need to live in the present moment and not defer to "one day" which may never come those things to which we really aspire.