If you’ve travelled along South Road recently you’d have seen that the T2D project is well underway. According to the promotional material, ‘drivers will be able to bypass 21 sets of traffic lights between the River Torrens and Darlington as they travel through two separate tunnels, connected by an open motorway’ saving up to 40 minutes in travel time! That’s the clincher isn’t it? We’ll be able to get to wherever we’re going quicker! Which, it seems, is what life is about these days. Quicker. Immediately. Instantly.
A 2015 Time Magazine article infamously reported that people now have shorter attention spans than goldfish*! (Are you still with me?)
So, perhaps we can relate to Habakkuk’s four-word cry: “How long, O Lord?” (even if it’s probably expecting too much to ask you to read the other 1384 words attributed to him).
It’s not just a lament for us in our instant-gratification world, but a challenge. Especially since God seems to run by his own schedule.
But, now that we’ll have an extra 40 minutes because of the T2D project you might spend 5 minutes of that time reading those other 1384 words.
Pastor John Strelan
* In case you were wondering, according to the article, goldfish have an attention span of 9 seconds.
Rihanna and A$AP Rocky welcome third child together. That was a headline in an online newspaper this week. Normally I wouldn’t give that sort of headline a second glance, but this made me wonder, what’s in a name? Apparently Rihanna (a.k.a Robyn Rihanna Fenty) and A$AP Rocky (a.k.a Rakim Athelston Mayers) already have two sons whom they named RZA and Riot. This third child they named Rocki Irish (it’s a girl, obviously!)
What’s in a name? Identity? Connection? Belonging? Attention? All of the above? Jesus told a story once about a poor man named Lazarus (I don’t think he was a rapper). The name means ‘Cared for by God’. There’s a lot in a name.
Pastor John Strelan
Think of a parable.
Which one are you thinking of? Is it ‘The Prodigal Son’? What a wonderful picture of God. Maybe ‘The Good Samaritan’. That’s a classic. Perhaps you’re thinking of ‘The Lost Sheep’, or ‘The Lost Coin’ (if you are, I hope you are rejoicing!) Or, maybe it’s ‘The Sower’, or ‘The Mustard Seed’? Whichever one it is, I am almost certain you aren’t thinking of the parable Jesus tells in Luke 16:1-13. ‘The Dishonest Manager’, or ‘The Shrewd Manager’. And, I am equally certain that when you go and read it in a moment you won’t come away thinking “What a wonderful picture of God!” And, maybe that’s the point. Sometimes God speaks to us in ways we don’t expect and through people we would never imagine.
According to the accumulated wisdom of the internet gathered together by Chat GPT joy is a deep feeling of happiness, contentment, or delight. It’s often more lasting and profound than momentary pleasure. Unlike fleeting emotions like excitement or amusement, joy tends to arise from something meaningful – such as love, connection, purpose, or a sense of inner peace. Hence, joy is a state of the heart and mind that can exist even in the middle of difficult circumstances.
According to Luke’s Gospel, joy is one sinner being found by God.
Mmm, grab your Bible and have a look at the passage before you read any further.
Welcome back. Now, that’s an interesting evangelism approach by Jesus, wouldn’t you say? I don’t recall Assistant Bishop Stephen Schultz promoting this kind of approach in his Prepared to Go workshop! I kinda want to say, “Steady on Jesus. Maybe just tone it down a little. At least to start with. How about leading in with a bit of an amusing anecdote? Help them to catch the vision."
But, then, who am I to tell Jesus what to do? I guess he knows what he’s doing.
[apologies - no sermon audio recording available]
With the rain bucketing down around us it’s hard to imagine that many parts of the state, and the country, remain in drought. The green shoots pushing through the soil often mask a land still crying out to be quenched. Perhaps it’s the same with our own lives? Our outer visage sometimes doesn’t tell the full story.
This Sunday we join with congregations around the district for a service of prayer and praise in acknowledgement of drought on the land. As we cry out to the Lord to bring rain, replenishment, and refreshment to the land, we might also ask for the same to happen in our own lives.
Words have always fascinated me. Words hold such power. They have the power to destroy and the power to bring life. All the more so when it is God’s words . . . and God’s Word. One word in particular intrigued me from the Gospel reading for this Sunday. In the original Greek the word is prosfwnew (prosphoneo). It’s not a particular common word, nor is it particularly interesting in itself. It just means ‘to call out to’, ‘to address’. But, in Luke’s Gospel it is used only twice and both times with the meaning ‘to call to oneself’.
When Jesus chooses the twelve he ‘calls his disciples to himself’ (Luke 6:13). Then, in this story, Jesus ‘calls a crippled woman to himself’ (Luke 13:12). There were other words Luke could have used but he chose this word to describe both situations. Fascinating. Intriguing. For me, at least.
Well, whatever else that might mean, one thing is for sure: on both occasions Jesus’ call turns nobodies into somebodies.
It’s all about render these days. You know, the stuff they plaster over brickwork on houses to make them look smooth and polished and appealing. Perfect house, perfect life, right? Isn’t that how we like to present our lives: shiny, polished and rendered? At least on the outside! Cover up the cracks, the chips, the dents, the faded lustre. And everything’s fine as long anyone doesn’t peer too closely.
Perhaps that’s why Jesus upsets so many people? He peers too closely. But, that’s what he’s here to do. To expose the cracks. Which is the opposite to what we would do. But, that’s Jesus; he can be a bit contrary at times! Division not peace! What’s that about? Could it be, in his contrariness, he invites us to discover who we really are, especially as Christians? Not perfect, flawless creatures, but cracked and broken human beings repaired with love. The kind of love that doesn’t hide the imperfections, but mends them and makes them human. And, I suspect, if we could fully embrace our humanness, then the world would find peace.
One night a house caught fire and a young boy was forced to flee to the roof. The father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, “Jump! I’ll catch you.” He knew the boy had to jump to save his life. All the boy could see, however, was flame, smoke, and blackness. As can be imagined, he was afraid to leave the roof. His father kept yelling: “Jump! I will catch you.” But the boy protested, “Daddy, I can't see you.” The father replied, “But I can see you. That’s what matters. Listen for my voice. I’ll catch you. I promise.”
Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.