The Needs of Others

by Liz Young

(Based on Matt 21:23-32; Ezek 18:1-4, 25-32; Phil 2:1-13)

God loves each one of us and welcomes us whenever and at what age we turn to him.
Welcome to all of you here today. We’re celebrating ‘care of creation’ in the middle of Spring,
with windy days, sharp showers and joyful flowers. We’ve had Daffodil Day, when Ros picked
hundreds of flowers to raise money for the Cancer Society, an illness which will have affected
each one of us either personally, or someone close to us. It was great to hear we’d made a
record breaking amount this year.

To return to Spring: when I walk through the village estate I’m cheered by all the azaleas out in bloom, and I love the scent of daphne and commiserate – with all of you who suffer from hayfever. This week we had a lovely Monday morning at Matapaia [local rest home – Ed]. Joan had decided to share our joy of Spring, showing us and the residents a huge variety of flowers and giving posies to some of the residents. We are lucky in New Zealand to be on an island and though we can have droughts they are short-lived, usually a maximum of six weeks, not years without rain. So I hope all of you collect roof rainwater to cover those dry weeks, and I suggest you don’t worry about climate change. We’ll get more tropical fish in our waters, and the schnapper may move to the South Island, and the rock cod to Stewart Island; but we will adapt, as long as we’re not greedy and we share with those less fortunate than us.
We also have to care for the sea floor, which is threatened by mining for manganese nodules. I suggest you Google to learn more about those threats.

In the readings this week Ezekiel told us God forgives his people and rebukes them for
saying ‘Life is unfair’, and says they are being unfair to God by sinning, and asks them to turn
away from sinning, and get a new spirit of love and caring. Don’t you remember, at the age
of seven, saying, “tisn’t fair”? I think it wasn’t till I was a teenager that I started putting the
needs of others before my own, and only because I followed the example of my parents and
another girl at school.
In Philippians, Paul reminds his readers that God is at work in them and says, “Let each of you
look to the needs of others and ignore your own interests.”
And in the parable we read from Matthew, Jesus tells us that it doesn’t matter how late in
your life you turn to him as long as you do it wholeheartedly and change your ways to
following his teachings. He will always accept each one of us, faults and all. I find that very
reassuring when I review my day in the evening, and acknowledge my mistakes and failures.
I realise that I’ve been very fortunate to have had a happy childhood, where my mother’s
love was unstinting. She never upbraided me for feeding my brother washing soda saying it
was ice from the fridge (and he sicked up in the sandpit).

I could trust the adults in my life, to teach me, correct me and forgive me. This meant that at
the age of twelve when I fell off an aquaplane and caught my foot it its rope, I could trust that
the captain steering the boat would be keeping an eye out for me, and that all I had to do
was hold my breath until he’d notice that I had fallen off, stop the boat and I’d be able to rise
to the surface and breathe. I counted to thirty before that happened. I could trust. Let us
remember and pray for those children who don’t feel safe at home. Let us pray that they
find some adult, a teacher at school, maybe, that they can turn to and trust.

So, trust in the Lord. We need to do this now, when the media highlights catastrophes. But the media’s concern is fleeting: remember Africa in your prayers and the refugees who can’t flee.

Some of us have the good fortune to be introduced to the Bible and its teaching at an early age, so that we are grounded in our faith. The Jesuits used to say capture them by the age of seven and you have them for life. Others of us have not been introduced to Christ until later in life. Jesus accepts us whenever we honestly turn to him, whether it’s in our childhood or on our death bed. Some conversions to Christ have been sudden and dramatic, for others it’s a slow gradual realisation that they can trust in God’s love; but I think it is a good habit to recommit ourselves to Christ at the beginning and at the end of each day. As Paul reminds us, put the interests of others first: prayer time is a good time to reflect on the needs of others we meet and connect with each day, and helps us work out how we can help them, with a word, a joke, a smile or something more concrete; to put their interests before our own.

So, leave here with joy in your hearts, notice the flowers around you and share that joy. And help your neighbour whenever you can, because doing so does bring joy: and as we and those around us begin to lose the skills to help others, think creatively on how you can help them to help others.
Amen

Caring for the Whenua

by Rev Megan Means

(Based on Luke 12:13–21; Job 12:7–13; Ro 8:18–22)

So how is the ground beneath our feet in this caring for creation season? There is a whakatauki: Ka ora te whenua, ka ora te tangata. When the earth is well, we are well. [Whakatauki is a Māori proverb – Ed]

We do live in an era now where everything is advancing incredibly fast. At present I am watching a re-run of Person of Interest, a 2010 TV programme about a mass-surveillance artificial intelligence programme, along with all its drama. However, there is a large difference and realisation today for me with the actual ability of the AI that was portrayed back when I watched it sixteen years ago, compared to now, where it is quite real. The advancements of AI, global communications, and technology can now reach us instantly from almost anywhere.

However, they do use a lot of power, and I think there is a growing lack of attention to the health of the environments in which we live. If the vessel that holds us is unwell, how can we realistically expect to be well? We cannot just isolate ourselves from modern technology or withdraw to a back of beyond place, because both would be separating us from what is happening in the world around us. This observation isn’t just from an environmental talking point; it is a spiritual mandate. It is the very heart of the Tīwaiwaka movement that it bridges ancient indigenous wisdom with the profound lessons of our scriptures.

As in the Job reading we also are challenged to look at the natural world. “Ask the beasts, and they will teach us: ask the birds of the heavens, and they will tell us.” Job goes on to ask, “Who among all these does not know that the hand of God has done this?” God reminds us that wisdom is found in the life of every living thing and even in the breath of humankind. “Wisdom is with the aged, and understanding is found in length of days.”

Tīwaiwaka is about reverence for the land. The movement was developed by Pā Ropata (Rob McGowan) from his lifelong work with rongoā Māori (herbal remedies made from native plants, traditional knowledge, and spiritual teachings) that he received from kaumātua and kuia [elders, male and female – Ed] on the Whanganui River. Pā Ropata understood something we may have largely forgotten. It is simply a way of summarising what traditional indigenous societies have always understood. The ancient realisation that human wellbeing cannot be separated from the wellbeing of the whenua [land – Ed] and the wider living world.

When we care for the mauri (the life force of the earth), we are not just ‘saving nature’. We are participating in a system of wisdom that has kept us alive for millennia. Ka ora te whenua, ka ora te tangata. When the earth is well, we are well.

So why are we overlooking this? Why is it so hard to prioritise the health of the whenua? Maybe, like the man in Jesus’s parable, we may have become obsessed with ourselves and a modern way of living.
In the Luke reading, a man comes to Jesus and demands his inheritance. Jesus refuses to be the arbitrator of his wealth. Instead, Jesus warns everyone, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of one’s own possessions.” Jesus paints a picture of a rich man whose land produced plenty. This man had everything he needed to survive. But what did he do? He didn’t think about his community, or the land that fed him. He looked at his crops and thought, “What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?” The man then decided to tear down his barns and build larger ones, telling his soul, “You have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” God’s response? “This night your soul is required of you …”

The rich man may represent our modern obsession with ourselves. Many of us may focus a lot on our own security, comfort, and entitlements. We try to barn up our lives against uncertainty, and in doing so we may also be severing our connection to the Creator and to creation. Tīwaiwaka challenges us to move beyond a narrow, self-centred view and to prioritise care for the earth that is our living home. Can we look at the land as a gift to be cherished rather than a resource to be used?

Climate change, rising sea levels and ecological collapses are happening and are the symptoms of our disconnection from the whenua. Here in Tairua, we know what it means to live close to the estuary, the beach, the maunga [mountain – Ed], and the wider Coromandel whenua. When people here work to protect the dunes, keep rubbish out of waterways, plant natives, care for birdlife, and treat the coastline as a taonga [treasure – Ed] rather than a commodity, we see a living comparison to the rich man in Jesus’s parable. Instead of building bigger barns for ourselves, Tairua community shows us another way: a community that chooses and tries to store up care, gratitude and responsibility for the land that sustains us.

The Apostle Paul, in the Romans reading, describes a particular reality: “For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now.” Think about this imagery. Creation is not just passively suffering; it is actively groaning. It is in the throes of a massive transition. And Paul says something hopeful here. He says the creation is waiting with “eager longing” for the revealing of the children of God. Why the eager longing? Because creation has been subjected to futility. Paul does not present the earth as a disposable background to human life; he speaks of creation as bound up with our choices and waiting for freedom. We have too often treated the earth as ours to dominate, rather than as a gift to be stewarded. Creation wants to heal. It wants to thrive. However, it is waiting for us to stop the groaning by stepping up to our responsibility as stewards.

So, what does this mean for how we may live? There is more to healing than just healing people who are unwell, in a clinical sense. As long as we keep putting sticking plasters on the problems of humanity while the planet, that is our home, continues to deteriorate, we are merely delaying the inevitable. Our future becomes increasingly uncertain because we have forgotten where we came from.

Good health is not just about ensuring we are symptom-free or re-defining what it means to be healthy. It is about sustaining a balance that our living world needs, to be well. As Pā Ropata and the Tīwaiwaka movement teach, being well means being in harmony with the living world of which we are a part. It means realising that if the mauri, the life force, is strong, our communities are strong. If the rivers and sea flow clear, our minds are clear.
This kind of healing begins close to home. It begins in the way we speak about the land, the choices we make about what we consume, the way we treat waterways and coastlines, and the willingness to see practical environmental care as a spiritual practice rather than a separate concern.

We can continue down the path of entitlement, domination, and trying to force the world to bend to our will with technology and ego. Or perhaps we can choose a pathway to a more hopeful future – one that is grounded in reality. As we go forward, let’s make a commitment. Let’s shift our priority from that of hoarding barns to nurturing the whenua. Let’s recognise that climate change is a call to action. Let us remember the wisdom Ka ora te whenua, ka ora te tangata. Let us listen to the earth. Let us heal our connections with it. If the earth is well, then we can be well. And perhaps that is the inheritance God calls us to treasure: not to fill barns but rather treasure our living world, care for it with love, gratitude and hope.

Reference: An introduction to Rongoā Māori Traditional Māori Medicine; Rob McGowan (Pā Ropata)

Perseverance

by Pat Lee

(Based on Matthew 15:21-28; Genesis 45:1-15; Psalm 133)

While listening to Sanctuary, a Christian radio station, a few weeks ago, I heard a story that really spoke to me. Each week they do a background story on a hymn, and this week it happened to be on What a Friend we Have in Jesus, written by Joseph Scriven, who lived between 1819-1886. I found this a very touching story.
Scriven was Irish born. In 1843 he was engaged to be married but on the night before their wedding the young woman was drowned in the River Bann. Of course, he was heartbroken by the accident. In 1847 he moved to Canada to start a new life, settling near Port Hope in Ontario, and fell in love with Eliza Roach. But she fell seriously ill and died of pneumonia before they were married.

Scriven joined the Plymouth Brethren and lived a self-imposed life of poverty, frequently giving away his own money, food, and clothes to help destitute neighbours. In 1855 he got word to say that his mother was ailing back in Ireland so he wrote a poem for her that was later found by Charles Converse, who set it to music, and it became the beloved What a Friend we Have in Jesus. Scriven died in 1886 in relative obscurity and poverty at the age of 66, in Ontario, Canada, but his hymn went on to be sung by millions worldwide, including us today.

So, what does that have to do with our readings for today?
I have given the title of this reflection Perseverance. If anyone had perseverance it was Joseph Scriven. Lesser people may have simply given up, but not him.

The Genesis reading is about Joseph (not Scriven) when he met with his brothers in Egypt. Most of us are familiar with Joseph’s story, but if you are not, you can read it in Genesis from chapter 37. He certainly had perseverance, otherwise he would never have ended up where he did in Egypt.
Joseph had faith in God, which is what got him through all those years of suffering. Let’s face it, prison was pretty awful back in his time. Not like today with a bed to sleep in and regular meals. He probably would have been in irons, lucky if he had been given a blanket, and I shudder to think what horrendous condition the prison was in.
But he persevered. Like Joseph Scriven, he trusted in God to get him through and now he was in a position to help his brothers in their time of need. It might have been very different for them if Joseph had been a man to bear grudges and take revenge. He forgave them though, and gave them what they needed; but not just them, their entire families, their households and their flocks and herds.

The gospel reading for today is another example of someone who persevered. When the Canaanite, or Gentile, woman came and pleaded with Jesus to heal her daughter of a demon, he completely ignored her. This seems to be an odd reaction from Jesus and very unlike what we would have expected from him. We know Jesus to be a man of compassion, but here he appears to be completely the opposite. Why?

I wondered about this for some time. As we read further into the passage, he tells her that he came to the lost sheep of Israel which implies that he didn’t care about anyone else. They were seemingly not important. She perseveres, telling him that “even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table”. That was what Jesus was waiting for. He had been testing her faith and she came up trumps. Jesus commended her for her faith and told her that he would do as she had asked.

Like Joseph, Joseph Scriven and the Gentile woman, we all have experienced trials and storms of one kind or another in our lives, but we wouldn’t be here today unless we had persevered and got through them. Trials and storms come in a huge variety of ways. Things like severe or life-threatening illnesses, serious accidents, family troubles of one kind or another, loss of a job, debt, death of a much-loved man, woman, or child … How do we cope with them? Do we try to deal with it on our own? Seek professional help or share with a trusted friend? There is nothing wrong with any of these options.
Or do we, first, do what Joseph Scriven did, and take it to the Lord in prayer?

I believe perseverance is a God-given quality. He has given each one of us a measure of perseverance. It is the mechanism by which we cope with the crises in our lives. But God wants us to hand them over to him when the tough times come so that we can persevere and come through. Sadly, some people don’t have the perseverance they need to get through the trials, often with tragic results.

It’s not just in our trials and storms that we need perseverance, but also in our work places and in our daily lives. In his book One Thought for Today Bishop Bruce Gilberd wrote this for today’s date: “Christ, our brother, you showed us that it is not just the beginnings that count, but perseverance until our work is completed, that brings the true glory.”
Are we prone to give up too soon?

The Bible is full of stories of people who persevered in difficult circumstances. Some that came to my mind were Joshua, Daniel, Ezekiel, Ruth, Esther, Paul, Mary, and, of course, Jesus himself. All these people had faith in God which enabled them to persevere.
Some people in more recent times in our history are Abraham Lincoln, Thomas Edison, Winston Churchill, Edmund Hillary, Florence Nightingale, Corrie ten Boom and Mother Teresa. I don’t know if all of these people relied on God to help them persevere though their difficulties, but I do know that at least some of them did.

Those of us who are believers in Jesus do not need to go it alone when the going gets tough. We can do what Joseph Scriven did because he knew who was the best helper to take his troubles to.
Let’s take another look at some of the words of this well-known and often sung hymn. They are the kinds of things that Jesus wants us to take to him in prayer. “All our sins and griefs … peace we often forfeit … needless pain … trials and temptations … trouble, sorrows and weakness … heavy laden … cumbered with a load of care”. When we take these things to Jesus in prayer, the hymn tells that “in his arms he’ll take and shield us, and we’ll find a solace there”.

Before I finish, I’m going to ask you a question: Who do you think has shown the most perseverance of all?

I suggest the answer is God himself. He has persevered with the human race since life on earth began. One of the best examples of his perseverance with humans was during the Exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, until they eventually entered the promised land. They tested him repeatedly and many did not make it because of their disobedience.
God perseveres with us as well. Why? Because he created us, loves us and wants us to reach our full potential, and he promises us that he will “never leave or forsake” us. (Deuteronomy 31: 6,8; Joshua 1:5; Heb 3:5) He’s always available – 24/7.

I found a fourth verse to Scriven’s hymn which I didn’t know existed, so I’ll end with it:
Blessed Saviour, thou hast promised, Thou will all our burdens bear, May we, Lord, be ever bringing, All to thee in earnest prayer, Soon in glory, unclouded, There will be no need for prayer, Rapture, praise and endless worship, Will be our sweet portion there.

Rejection, Faith and Storms

by Sharon Marr

(Based on Matt 14:22-33; Gen 37:1-4,12-28; Ro 10:5-15)

As we gather today, our readings invite us to reflect on three experiences that many of us know well: rejection, faith, and life’s storms. These are not just stories from long ago. They are the realities of every human life, and perhaps especially familiar to those of us who have walked this life for a wee while.

The first reading tells us about Joseph, the beloved son of Jacob. Rejected by his brothers – understandably in my opinion – then sold into slavery, he lost everything familiar. Yet his story reminds us that rejection is never the end of God’s story. Years later, Joseph recognised that God had been at work even through the cruelty of others. What was intended for evil, God transformed into an opportunity to save many lives.

Many of us know the pain of rejection or disappointment. Even as we grow older we may feel overlooked or forgotten by a society that values youth more than wisdom. Yet Joseph reminds us that God never forgets his children. Even when we cannot understand our trials, God continues to work quietly for our good.
Paul, in the second reading, reminds us that “the same Lord is Lord of all, generous to all who call upon Him”. No one is excluded from his love. No one is beyond his mercy.
That is wonderful news, especially for those who may sometimes wonder whether their lives still matter. Our value does not depend on our strength or productivity but on being beloved sons and daughters of God.

Many of you have spent a lifetime calling on God. Through joys and sorrows, he has remained faithful. Your quiet witness of prayer, patience, forgiveness and hope continues to strengthen your families and the Church. Never underestimate the power of a life lived faithfully.

Having reminded us of God’s wisdom and mercy, the Gospel reading shows us what that mercy looks like in action. The disciples are crossing the Sea of Galilee when a storm arises. The wind is strong, the waves are high, and they are struggling to make progress. Then, in the darkest part of the night, they see Jesus walking towards them on the water. At first they are terrified. They think they are seeing a ghost. But Jesus speaks those reassuring words: “Take courage, it is I, do not be afraid.”

Jan Luyken: Christ walks on water during a storm on the Sea of ​​Galilee

Peter responds with remarkable faith. “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus simply replies, “Come.”
Peter steps out of the boat and begins to walk towards Jesus. For those first few moments his eyes are fixed on the Lord, and the impossible becomes possible. But then Peter notices the wind. He becomes frightened. His attention shifts from Christ to the storm around him. He begins to sink and cries out one of the shortest and most beautiful prayers in the Gospel: “Lord, save me!”

Immediately Jesus stretches out his hand and catches him.

Did you notice in this short reading, three times the word immediately is used.  In the original Greek the word eutheōs was used, meaning immediately or straightaway! Doesn’t it speak volumes of the response of Jesus to our cries?

This speaks deeply to us all. The storms we face today may be different from those of our youth. They may be worries about our health, declining strength, increasing dependence, or the loss of people we dearly love. We may worry about our children or grandchildren, or wonder what the future will bring. Some storms are visible; others are carried quietly within our hearts.

Jesus never promised his disciples a life without storms. Instead, he promised that he would be with them in the midst of them. That is the great comfort of today’s reading. Christ does not wait for the storm to end before coming to us. He comes while the wind is still blowing and the waves are still crashing.  Peter’s mistake was not that he became afraid. Fear is part of being human. His mistake was allowing the storm to become greater than his awareness of Christ.  Peter focused on how he was doing. He judged himself. He measured his performance.
That sinks us every time. How often that happens to us. We become so focused on our concerns that we lose sight of the One who is standing right beside us.

Yet, even then, Jesus does not abandon Peter. He does not say, “Try harder,” or, “Come back when your faith is stronger.” The Gospel says, “Immediately Jesus stretched out His hand and caught him.”
That single word – immediately – is full of hope. The Lord does not delay his mercy. With love he reaches out as soon as Peter calls. What saved Peter was his belovedness. And we are all loved by God.

Many of us have prayed Peter’s prayer ourselves: “Lord, save me.” Perhaps in a hospital room. Perhaps beside the bed of a dying spouse. Perhaps during times of loneliness, uncertainty or grief. Sometimes those three words are all we can manage. The beautiful truth is that they are enough.

Every sincere prayer reaches the heart of God. He knows our fears before we speak them. He understands our weakness. He is never ashamed of those who cry out to him for help. We are loved. Perhaps that is one of the greatest lessons we learn as we grow older. We discover that life has never depended on our own strength alone. Looking back, we can often see that God was lovingly carrying us through moments when we thought we were walking by ourselves.

Today, let us place our lives into his hands once again. If we carry memories of rejection, let us remember Joseph. If we ever wonder whether we still matter, let us remember Paul’s assurance, that God is rich in mercy toward all who call upon him. If we find ourselves facing storms we cannot control, let us remember Peter, whose simple cry, “Lord, save me,” was enough for Jesus to reach out his hand.

The God who guided Joseph, inspired Paul, and rescued Peter is the same Lord who walks beside us today. He has not abandoned us. He has not forgotten us. He is still reaching out his hand. May we keep our eyes fixed on him, trusting that whatever storms we face, his hand is always stronger than the wind, his love deeper than our fears, and his mercy greater than all our weakness.     Amen.