The Long Wait

by Pat Lee

(Based on Gen 21:8-21)

I have chosen to speak on the Genesis reading today because it’s an example of how not to behave, as people of God’s covenant. It’s also a reminder that God is always greater than we are and can sort us out even when we fail – as Sarah and Abraham did more than once.

First, some previous history. In Genesis chapter 12, God told Abraham to leave his country (Ur and then Haran) and family to go to a land that God would show him, which turned out to be Canaan, but with a detour to Egypt.
God promised him that he would make a great nation of him. Abraham obeyed God and left Haran with his wife Sarah. He was seventy-five years old and had no children.

His first failure was telling the Pharaoh in Egypt that Sarah was his sister! So the Pharaoh took her to be his wife. This caused many problems for Pharaoh. He eventually discovered that Sarah was Abraham’s wife, so sent her back to him.

What happened next? Well nothing much for quite a few years. Sarah got older and still no baby. God spoke to Abraham again in Genesis chapter 15 to affirm his promise, but still no baby, and Sarah continued to age. Eventually she got thinking and wondering if God needed some help to fulfil his promise. Things were very different in those days. It was not uncommon for men to have several wives and a number of concubines, usually their slave girls. They could have children by each of these women, and in their culture it was acceptable that if a wealthy mistress was childless, as in Sarah’s case, the slaves’ children were counted as if they were hers legally.

Chapter 16. Now Sarah decided that she would tell her husband to have sexual relations with her Egyptian slave girl Hagar, so that any child produced would be seen as hers. That was her failure. Foolishly Abraham did as Sarah suggested, another failure, and the result was that Hagar became pregnant. Hagar now felt that she had some status in the family, so she treated Sarah with contempt. So Sarah treated her harshly; and Hagar ran away.

God saw this, and told Hagar (through an angel) to return to her mistress. The angel also told her that God had said that he would enlarge her family by giving her many offspring. So, she returned to Sarah.
I wonder what Sarah thought about that?
There was probably great rejoicing from Abraham, but not for Sarah, as there was still no baby for her. Then Ishmael (whose name primarily represents human effort and the ‘flesh’) was born. Abraham was 86 years old, Sarah about ten years younger.

At one point, Abraham and Sarah journeyed towards the Negev, where they settled between Kadesh and Shur. Abraham had not learnt from his first failure and again passed Sarah off as his sister (to the King Abimelech). But God spoke to Abimelech (in a dream) and told him that Sarah was Abraham’s wife, so he too sent her back.

Some time later while Abraham was sitting outside his tent, God sent three men to him. Abraham gave them refreshments and then they told him that they would return to him in due season, when Sarah would have a son. Sarah was listening at the tent entrance. She laughed. I think I would have laughed too, in the same circumstances.

Isaac was born when the men had said he would be. Sarah (now ninety) said that God had brought laughter to her, and Isaac’s name means “he laughs” or “one who laughs or rejoices”.

Now we get to today’s reading. It was customary in those days for children (hence, Isaac) to be weaned at about three years of age. (!) Abraham gave a feast in celebration, which was also customary. During the feast, Sarah saw Ishmael (who would now be about sixteen, based on ages given in the text) playing with Isaac. ‘Playing’, in Hebrew, can mean several different things; one meaning is ‘making fun of’ or ‘mocking’. Sarah obviously thought that Ishmael was making fun of Isaac, so went to Abraham and demanded that he send Hagar and her son away. Abraham was very distressed because Ishmael had been Abraham’s heir for fourteen years and had grown very fond of him.

God came to Abraham’s rescue and told him to do what Sarah asked, because Isaac was the one through whom his family would have descendants, but that he would make a nation of Ishmael too. So Abraham sent Hagar and her son away. The Hebrew word used in the text is exactly the same as the common phrase for divorcing someone. In other words, he ended all legal obligation between him and Hagar and her son.
That must have been very difficult for Abraham to do, but imagine how difficult it was for Hagar and Ishmael. They were  sent off with some food and water, but not much, and ran out of both before very long. But God saw them out in the wilderness and came to their rescue too.

The next part of the text is a little confusing because it speaks of Ishmael as if he were a little child, crying out in hunger and thirst, but he would have been about sixteen. There may have been other factors at play, which we do not know about.

Anyway, “And God heard the voice of the boy; and the angel of God called Hagar from heaven, and said to her, ‘What troubles you Hagar? Do not be afraid; for God has heard the voice of the boy where he is. Come, lift up boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make a great nation of him.’ Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water. She went and filled the skin with water, and gave the boy a drink. God was with the boy, and he grew up; he lived in the wilderness, and became an expert with the bow. He lived in the wilderness of Paran; and his mother got a wife for him in the land of Egypt.”
Hagar and Ishmael are not part of God’s original plan. The plan was always going to be through Abraham and Sarah. However, Hagar was still one of God’s created beings so he speaks to her, assuring her of his provision for the future giving her and Ishmael hope.

So, what does all this mean for us today? In the New Testament Abraham and Sarah are held up as examples of faith, but the birth of Ishmael didn’t come about because of their faith. In fact, their faith failed. God had promised that they would have many descendants and God does not break his promises. It’s easy for us to understand why they decided to give God a helping hand, since they were both getting well on in years, but God does not need our help to do what he promises. He needs us to keep our faith and trust him.

Just like we do, Abraham and Sarah failed on several counts; but God did not write them off and he won’t write us off either. God asked them to believe the impossible, and to believe it for a quarter of a century. He asked them to wait patiently for his promise to be fulfilled and he didn’t tell them how long they would have to wait.
We see doubt and impatience, and harsh treatment of a slave, who actually did what they wanted her to do. When they didn’t need her any more, especially Sarah, she was sent off with very few provisions. Not the way to treat a slave or anyone else for that matter.

God wants us to wait for him to fulfil his promises, no matter how long it takes. If God has made a promise to you, wait. He may not have fulfilled it yet, but he will.

One writer says (of the heroes listed in Hebrews 11), “Are these heroes of faith? Maybe, and maybe they’re also ordinary human beings like us. They’ve been formed by attitudes and beliefs of their own culture. They find it hard to trust God for the long haul. They find it hard to treat slaves as their equal, just as many of us today find it hard to treat people of other races as our equals; we may believe they are in theory, but it’s hard for us to feel it. Does God approve of our attitudes? Absolutely not. Does God refuse to work with us because of them? Absolutely not. There are no perfect people available. God only has imperfect people to work with.”

God had Sarah and Abraham and he fulfilled his promise to them, even though they failed many times before it happened.

On Fostering Hope

by Dr Liz Young

(Based on Matt 9:35-10:23; Ro 5:1-8)

My sermons are often influenced by my current reading: this week’s New Scientist had a great article on why we should improve our mindset, and our book club book for this month is a junior mental health nurse’s reflections on her experience in the United Kingdom. It’s titled The Language of Kindness. Until recently, kindness was the only treatment we could offer the mentally ill: and still the most effective treatment for depression is cognitive behavioural therapy, where the patient learns to talk more positively to themselves and so improve their mood, though psilocybin, from magic mushrooms, can be a one off shot to reset our mood (but no good for schizophrenia).

What can we do to improve our community’s mental health?  How can we use our stress positively?
Offering kindness to others always improves our mood. I have appreciated the many kindnesses I’ve received over the past year, and our Op Shop radiates mutual kindness.

The other book I read (and cried over) – recently been released as a film – was the ultimate act of kindness: the story of the donation of a heart transplant to a terminally ill boy. The donor was brain dead after a car accident, and her younger sisters pushed her father to offer up her heart for organ donation, for transplantation, as she’d always been so giving in life. Because of the publicity about the boy who received the transplant, the donor family realised who their sister’s heart went to, and the families got in touch, although it was not current professional policy, for privacy reasons. The resulting friendship led to joint work on publicising the need for donors for the many parts of the body that we can donate, as we’ve been designed with replacements: something we need to work on.

Our mindset is our mood default button.

What is mindset?
It’s our intuitive, usually unspoken, internal ‘theory’, about how things work; a theory that shapes what we look for, how we make sense of things, that forms our expectations and our subsequent acts. The writer of the article I read in the Listener was a man – his father had Alzheimer’s, his wife was wanting to divorce him, and he’d recently left a steady job to be self-employed. He was stressed. But he wrote of two ways to respond to stress: he could get anxious, ruminate, dither … Or he could use the adrenalin to focus … if you view stress as enhancing, if you complete written exercises on the power of a positive mindset … your depression and anxiety levels can reduce.
Thinking of this made me wonder how to rewrite it in ‘gospel terms’.

Most of Jesus’s miracles involved altering mindset. In the feeding of the five thousand, for instance, everybody was hiding their food for the day from each other, until one small boy shared his loaves and fishes, and then everyone sat down to share with each other. What a lot of leftovers there were!  

Paul, in the reading from Romans, weaves together the themes of faith, love, hope and glory, noting the past work of God helping us, how Christ came to die for us, how we now stand as God’s children. (Jesus charged us to be like little children, and children are usually full of hope, or should be.) These Pauline perspectives give us reason to hope for the future. While we accept that the future for humanity is uncertain, especially at this time, we can trust that God has a plan for us and that he will give us the strength to cope with whatever life sends us. So we can live in hope.  

So, what can we do to improve the hope and happiness of those around us? Don’t moan; don’t let the news get you down; take time to enjoy the beauty around us; give thanks for our daily blessings; for friendship. And do something caring for one another each day. Amen

Romans 5:1-5:
Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

Te Pouhere Sunday

by Barry Pollard

(Based on Matthew 7:24-29; Acts 10:34-43; 2 Cor 5:14-19)

Like most things that have history, the Anglican Church has developed and matured over time. With its roots firmly in the Motherland, in our neck of the woods it has generally been known as the Church of the Province of New Zealand. A subset of its colonial past. But the church has developed and matured to acknowledge the unique cultures and traditions that make up its population in our country today. Not only developed and matured, but formally recognised in a covenant relationship between Māori, Pākehā and Pasifika, so that we walk together as equals in faith under Christ; the relationship referred to as “Te Pouhere”.  Like the beams of a meeting house, Te Pouhere is intended to hold people together while allowing each culture and voice its own integrity and strength.

In te reo Māori, Te Pouhere translates pretty much as ‘the constitution’ or ‘the guiding framework’. Pouhere is a compound word made up from pou (a post, pillar or foundation) and here (to bind, tie or tether). It is ‘a foundation’.

If a foundation is a basis, it is a point from which we start. It is a point from which we expect to grow, build and carry on.
So, as you might expect, today’s readings speak powerfully about unity, reconciliation, and that foundation. They invite us to ask: “What holds us together?” And, “What kind of community are we building?”  They help us examine and understand our place in the three-culture relationship.

In Acts 10 one of the themes is ‘God shows no favouritism’.  In Acts, Peter experiences a profound conversion. Usually we think of conversion as turning toward God. But Peter already believed in God. His conversion was deeper: he had to discover that God’s grace was wider than he imagined. Standing in the house of Cornelius, a Gentile, an outsider in Peter’s eyes, Peter finally understands that God shows no partiality. That realisation changed the Church forever. Until this moment, many believers assumed the gospel belonged mainly within familiar cultural boundaries. But the Holy Spirit shattered those walls. God’s love cannot not be contained within one people, language or tradition.

That remains a challenge for the Church today. It is easy to build communities around people like ourselves, with similar culture, similar politics, similar worship style, similar assumptions. But the Gospel should keep pushing us outward. The risen Christ is always larger than our ‘tribes’.

For us in Aotearoa New Zealand, this reading has particular resonance. Te Pouhere asks us to do something difficult and holy: not merely tolerate difference, but recognise Christ in one another. That means Māori spirituality and tikanga (customs) are not optional extras. It means Pasifika voices are not just guests at the table. It means Pākehā (Western) traditions are not the default setting for everyone else.

Peter learned that God was already at work in Cornelius before he, Peter, arrived. Sometimes the Church must learn the same humility: God is already present in people and communities we may not fully understand.
Think back to the arrival of the church in New Zealand. On Christmas Day,1814, the first church service, in the form of a Gospel reading and sermon delivered by the Reverend Samuel Marsden, took place at Oihi in the Bay of Islands. I imagine that sermons delivered at that time were not quite the same as the style we are used to these days. Despite what may have been an unfamiliar experience for those listening, it was the spark that ignited a Christian movement. Samuel Marsden may have walked away quite pleased with himself, but God had already gone before him to set the stage for his missionary work!

The Acts reading is about discovering that all people are included in God’s kingdom; and the Corinthians reading is about what happens next. Reconciliation – restoring relationships, resolving conflicts, aligning prospects.
In Corinthians, Paul is saying that in Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself. It didn’t apply just to individuals. It applied to the world. Paul reminds us, “And all of this is a gift from God, who brought us back to himself through Christ.”  And then he presents the challenge: “And God has given us this task of reconciling people to him.”  He has entrusted the ministry of reconciliation to us.
This ministry is not about winning arguments. It is not about preserving comfort. It is not about protecting power. It is the ministry of reconciliation.

Reconciliation is costly work. We know that. Just look at the latest upsets as attempts are made to back-pedal on the status and authority of what many of us consider our nation’s founding document, the Treaty of Waitangi. We’ve been at it, with differing amounts of energy and progress, for more than 180 years!

Reconciliation requires honesty about our hurts, injustices and history. It also calls us to refuse to cave to cynicism. Because the legacy of colonisation, land loss, cultural suppression and economic inequity still shapes lives today. It means believing the Holy Spirit can still create something new between people. It should be filled with promise and hope. I think the Anglican Church can be proud of Te Pouhere. Some might say it is imperfect, but it was a courageous attempt to embody partnership rather than domination.

Paul reminds us that “Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” Other translations refer to us being a “new creation”. Essentially, Paul is saying things are going to be different from now on. Not only different, but better!

The Church, made up of faithful believers, is meant to be a sign of that new creation. A place where former divisions do not disappear by magic, but are transformed by grace. When our churches genuinely listen to one another across culture and history, the gospel becomes visible. People should be able to look at the Church and say, “How is it that such different people remain together?” And our answer should be, “Because Christ holds us together.”

In our Gospel reading today, Jesus is reaching the end of the Sermon on the Mount, and says, “Anyone who listens to my teaching and follows it is wise.”  Because we are generally slow to understand, he provides a simple analogy. He describes two houses, two foundations, and one storm. In one case the house is flattened and in the other the house stands firm. Jesus is pointing out the dangers of not heeding his words. In his analogy, both builders ‘hear’. The difference lies in the fact that for one the words are not lived out. No attention is paid to them. A church can talk endlessly about unity, justice, bicultural partnership and reconciliation. But eventually the storms reveal whether those values are decorative language or solid foundations.

Storms come: conflict, declining numbers, financial pressure, fear of change, cultural misunderstanding, revelation of abuse-in-care, and more. A church built on shaky foundations will struggle. But a church grounded in Christ, in humility, truth, mercy and sacrificial love can endure. These readings this Te Pouhere Sunday should remind us, however, that structures alone cannot save the Church.  Constitutions matter, but they are not really the foundation. Christ is the foundation. And Christ’s foundation is not uniformity. It is covenant love.
In a building, the structure depends on many parts working together. A ridge beam, rafters, walls, and floors, all have to be tied together. Remove one, and the whole building is weakened.

Look up! We are in a building that was weak. The steel ties were added to keep the walls upright and stop the roof falling on us. Remove them, and it likely will!
The Church is similar. We are strongest when each part contributes faithfully to the whole body of Christ. And we are the parts. What we do will make it strong, or let it fall. A weighty point to consider!

Almost an aside but not quite: another important point to consider in our church, St Francis, is building up our resilience and focussing on succession planning. What happens when our key people move on, or up? Are there willing others prepared to take their places, to ensure that we remain strong? Will we be able to look forward to a future where we build on the platform already laid?

I have spoken previously about our visits to Kalihi Union Church in Honolulu. I mention Kalihi Union again now because they are going through an adjustment brought about by the retirement of their Senior Pastor, Jonathan. Although they have gone through the sadness of losing a loved and valued leader, the church is not despairing. They are looking forward expectantly to the next chapter. They have confidence that the Gospel will continue to be preached, and acted upon. They have confidence that their missions and ministries will continue to enrich their congregation and the wider community.

We need to ensure we have that here!

We can think about today’s readings forming a movement:

  • In Acts: God breaks down barriers.
  • In Corinthians: Christ reconciles the world, draws us together.
  • In Matthew: Jesus encourages us to build our lives on his truth.

Te Pouhere Sunday doesn’t just celebrate our unique approach to church governance. It celebrates our gospel-shaped and gospel-inspired church community.

At the start of my reflection, I hinted that our readings would get us thinking about what it is that holds us together, and what kind of community we are building. More and more these days I am pushed to re-examine my life: my way of thinking, my motivations, my politics, and so on. More and more I feel I am being moved from observer to participant. So, in writing my notes for today I was asking myself, do I just want to admire the vision of reconciliation or do I want to help build on it?

Because we know storms will come, we need to know that, for all we are about to face, God has equipped us.
A few weeks ago we were celebrating the gift of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, the very power of Jesus within us. If that isn’t foundational, I don’t know what is! Christ truly is our foundation. Our differences need not divide us. Instead, by God’s grace, they may become a witness to the world that true reconciliation is possible.

Ascension and the Days Following

by Pat Lee

(Based on John 17:1-11; Acts 1:6-14; 1Peter 4:12-14, 5:6-11)

Today is the ‘Sunday after Ascension’, when Jesus was taken back up to heaven. Suddenly the disciples find themselves on their own. But, are they?

In the reading from Acts it seems that the disciples still have missed the point of why Jesus came. They are asking him if he is going to restore the kingdom to Israel; but Jesus tells them that that is not for them to know, because it is the Father who gives that authority, not him, and, besides, he knows that he is about to leave them.
He has just been telling them in the previous few verses that they are to stay in Jerusalem where they will receive ‘the gift of the Holy Spirit’, which he had previously promised them – an indication that he will not be staying. So, it seems to me that they are still not aware that Jesus is about to leave them.

He tells them again that they will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on them, so that they will be able to be witnesses there in Jerusalem, but also throughout all Judea, Samaria and right “to the ends of the earth”. (Which now includes us.) He’s not saying it directly, but he is telling them that they will be carrying on the work that he himself started here on earth, because he is leaving.

While they are standing there contemplating what he has said, Jesus disappears from their sight. I wonder how long it took them for the ‘penny to drop’? Well, it took two men dressed in white to come and stand before them and explain that Jesus had gone back to heaven. So, I wonder what was going through their minds then?

 I can imagine myself in a similar situation where my mind would have been working overtime with questions like, “What do we do now? How are we going to manage without him? Who is going to teach us?” So, the eleven disciples return to Jerusalem, to the upstairs room, and join with Jesus’s mother and various others, where they pray – the most sensible and logical thing to do.

When I read today’s readings, my first thought was, “Where to start … How do I find something new and challenging to say?” So, what was the most sensible and logical thing for me to do? Pray.

Writing, and especially reflection, does not come easily to me, to which my English teacher at school would very happily testify if he were here. I struggled at school with English, especially writing essays. So, how do I cope now? Through prayer. Because over the years of my Christian walk I have learnt that I can’t trust myself; but I can trust my God. It’s about knowing how to trust and depend on his help when you need it. It’s about what the disciples had to learn and to do, now that Jesus had left them.

In 1 Peter 4, Peter says, “Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.” This is a lesson Peter and the rest of the disciples had to learn, just as we do. Peter was an uneducated fisherman before he met Jesus. He had a lot to learn. He was hot-headed and often spoke before he thought. Jesus had to rebuke him several times, but in the Scripture I just quoted we can see how far he had come in those three years of guidance he received from Jesus. He learnt how to trust him and follow his example. He learnt that he had an ability he didn’t even know he had.
Peter became a great orator (which we will probably hear in the Acts reading next week). That would have been unthinkable three years before. He became “the Rock” that Jesus said he would be.

We need to remember these verses when the going gets tough in our lives, and when we don’t know where to turn or what to do. We need to pray just like the disciples did in that upper room when Jesus had left them. That was their best and only choice.

The Gospel reading has Jesus praying to his father. Interestingly, this is not at his Ascension, but is, in fact, at the Passover meal he shared with the disciples prior to his arrest and crucifixion. Jesus is praying out loud in front of them. He is praying for himself and for them. The things he puts forward in this prayer are those things he came to earth to do, and did.

Firstly, he prays for himself. This is not a selfish prayer but one that pointed people past himself to the Father.  Jesus’s work was the work of the Father, and was aimed at giving people eternal life. The Father and the Son enjoyed joyful fellowship before Jesus even came to earth, and that is what he was going back to. That is what he wants the disciples to experience as well, joyful fellowship with him and the Father. It’s in Jesus’s relationship with his Father that he is glorified, as we have seen in his ministry, because he did everything the Father asked him to do. The Holy Spirit was being sent to the disciples so that they also would be able to do the things that Jesus did, through the power of the Spirit.

Secondly, he prays for the disciples. Jesus’s prayer was that his disciples be instruments and reflectors of what came from the Father through him, and that they might enjoy the unity that he, the Son, had with the Father. Jesus did not count himself as being equal with the Father, but ’emptied himself’, taking on the form of a servant, having been born as a human being.

The relation of Father and Son as distinct persons was and is the model for unity. William Temple said, “This unity is something much more than a means to an end – even though that end be the evangelisation of the world; it is itself the one worthy end of all human aspiration.”

What does all this mean for us today? For those of us who have a personal relationship with Jesus, it means that we too can carry on with doing God’s work through the power of the Spirit. When opportunities arise, have the courage to speak about our faith and what it means for us. It means that when tough times come, we do not need to be anxious, worried or overly concerned about how to deal with them. We need to turn them over to God in prayer and ask for his help; because that is what he wants us to do.
It means that the prayer Jesus prayed for the disciples on that night of the Passover also applies to us. Jesus was asking the Father to protect us by the power of his Name because we belong to him too.

Bishop Bruce Gilberd put it this way in his book One Thought for Today: “We need to harvest meanings from our experiences. After Jesus’s resurrection, the first disciples did just this, they harvested fresh and profound  meaning from the three years they spent with their Master.”

Amen