Yesterday, as I was pondering what I will say by way of reflection in our 'Undefeated' service (I'm using parts of Luke 4 and Luke 14) I found myself recalling the story in John 9 of the man born blind, the disciples' question about its cause, and Jesus' response.  It is a complex and nuanced passage with several layers of meaning, notably about physical and spiritual blindness and possibly about the nature of revelation.

The story is clearly significant in breaking the automatic causal link between sin and disability, at least at a personal/familial level; the potential for corporate sin as cause or influence remains open I think.  But the words with which I have title this post, spoken by Jesus as being the reason or purpose of the blindness lead us to a place that should discomfit us... if we read this as saying, "this man was born blind in order that God could make him see and so show off God's great power" then what kind of a God is that?  Not one I'm drawn to for sure.  So here is the idea that popped into my head yesterday... is the man's very blindness, the way that God made him (or allowed him to be made, depending on your viewpoint) that is, in and of itself, the means for God's works to be revealed?  The story of the man's faith journey - from seeing Jesus as a man (v11) to a prophet (v17) to the Son of Man (v 35), his emergence as an adult in his own right rather than a dependent adult-child (v 23), his growing confidence to engage with the powers-that-be (e.g. v13-15, 27-33)... is this not the work of God?

In various of the healing miracle stories, the physical cure seems pretty much secondary, being instead a vehicle for teaching about attitudes/priorities or recognising faith in surprising places.

The 'Undefeated' material wisely steers clear of anything to do with 'cure' or 'miraculous healing' and centres instead on recognising the intrinsic value of every human being, and the potential for 'God's work to be revealed' in and through them just as they are.

I once came across an image of heaven as perceived by a long-term wheelchair user... in their perception, everyone in heaven would have a wheelchair.  Whatever you make of that idea, it challenges the assumption of what is 'normal' or 'healthy' or 'whole'.  Not one of us has a 'perfect' body or mind, not one of us is not in some way 'damaged', not one of us is totally 'normal', yet in these chipped and cracked clay vessels God's Spirt is pleased to dwell, and in our lives God's work can be, and is, revealed... Wow!

A few days ago I set a little puzzle here.  One person correctly identified the poet, but no-one had a clue where the photo was taken.

If you are in Glasgow, and visit the Buchanan Galleries shopping centre, entering from the steps in Buchanan St, look up to your right...

Just been checking the Olympic Torch route details for Friday/Saturday and they are as follows:

(source http://london2012.seeglasgow.com/torch-relay/the-route )

FRIDAY 8^TH JUNE

17:48 Argyle Street
17:54 Byres Road
17:58 University Avenue
18:04 Kelvin Way
18:05 Gibson Street
18:09 Woodlands Road
...

18:49 George Square South
18:49 Stage Corridor

SATURDAY 9^TH JUNE

07:23 Riverside Approach Road (B808)
07:26 Stobcross Road
07:29 Beith Street (B808)
07:38 Byres Road
07:47 Queen Margaret Drive
07:56 Maryhill Road
...

Interesting how sometimes you hear something you've heard a zillion times and something totally new (for you) strikes you.

Today's PAYG was a recounting of the occasion when Pharisees and Herodians came to Jesus to 'trap him in his words' by asking him about the payment of Roman taxes.  After taking the coin, Jesus asked 'whose image and inscription are these?' before saying 'render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's and to God that which is God's'.

Whenever I've heard anyone speak on this, it has been about the obligation to pay our taxes, and sometimes about our equal responsibility to be regular in our 'tithes and offerings'.  For some reason this morning I found myself pondering the currency in which we might 'render unto God', wondering first of all what the Temple coinage looked like, since the making of graven images is clearly prohibited, and what might be the appropriate 'image and inscription'.  Call me slow (you're slow, Catriona) but it struck me very forcibly that there is a hint here about ourselves, our lives, as the currency rendered unto God...  If, as we claim, we bear the image and likeness of God, if, as the psalmist and song-writers say, God's word is written on our hearts, then this is actually about a whole-hearted commitment to God.

Pay your taxes to the 'secular' authorities; give yourself to God.

So, not only a difference in 'kind' but a difference in quantity and quality too... the 'Emperor' demands x% in currency 'y'; God demands everything...

Were the whole realm of nature mine

That were an offering far too small

Love so amazing, so divine

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Hmmm.  Challenging.

... of Inward, Invisible Grace.

This is how Aquinas defines sacraments.  I have read more sacramental theology than most sacramentalists, and could run rings round the average Roman Catholic on official RC teaching on this subject.  I like to think I am probably one of the better informed ordinance theologians around.  But, as my more sacramental friends know, I am always up for being convinced otherwise.

Yeserday's sermon included my postulate that love is actually the supreme sacrament -  the ultimate visible sign of invisible grace, and that there must be (as a minimum) a set of nine sacraments on this basis as listed in Galatians 5 - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control.

The problem for those who associate 'sacrament' with 'ritual' or more specifically 'ritual correctly performed' is that in one sense all of these nine are invisible - you can't bottle love or procure a slice of gentleness of whatever.  Yet these are the biblically defined outward manifestations of the outworking of grace in the lives of believers wrought by the Holy Spirit.

I should probably note, that an ordinance theology of Baptism and Communion is not, as some claim, a cavalier or casual one; I view these rites as seriously (if not seriously, in some cases) as my more sacramental friends.  I would not even dispute that God's grace may be experienced in and through them, but I refute any notion of 'special grace' or 'guaranteed grace' ritually achieved, since this is totally contrary to idea of a Spirit that, like wind, 'blows where it will'.  Grace is grace; it has no 'flavours'; it has no ritually defined bounds; it is witnessed in its outworking... the fruit of God's transformative Spirit, and nowhere more clearly than in love.

Small wonder, then that the great commands are as they are... Love God, love your neighbour, love yourself.