What are you going to be? (Sermon)

Just for a laugh, here's my first ever sermon... from a congregation that I'll call rather creatively, 'Placement 1'

Readings: Ecclesiastes 4: 1-16; Luke 10: 25-37

What are you going to be when you grow up?

You may be worrying that I have prepared a children's address instead of a sermon! But that is a question that we hear many times through life. As young children, aunties and uncles, parents and grandparents may have asked us this. At school, teachers ask pupils this question - or now it may be 'careers and vocational guidance staff'. As we become aunties and uncles, parents and grandparents, we start asking the next generation of young people - 'what are YOU going to be when you grow up?'

Perhaps we have even asked ourselves this - what AM I going to be when I grow up? My stock answer as a young boy was 'part-time racing driver, and part-time baker'. I suppose being a racing driver was one of those jobs that seem exciting. The bakery part was 'so I can set up a shop in Aberdeen, near my Granny's house, and give her free rolls'! As I grew up, to my parents' relief, racing cars became less attractive, and they're probably glad, in a way, that I didn't achieve my later ambition of being an astronaut, either. I do bake occasionally, but the only thing I tend to bake is banana loaf!

What are you going to be... the world seems to continually ask that question, to give you a label, to put you in a pigeonhole (a doocot?). I, for one, am still trying to answer the question 'What am I going to be when I grow up' - and I know others older than me who haven't found the answer yet either.

But, I have a few lines of enquiry... As many of you know, Enquiry is the fancy name for my placement here for a few months. Like many others, I've expressed an interest in working in and for the church - perhaps as a parish ministers, or serving in some other way. So the Church have assigned me to work with [the minister] and all of you at [this church] : taking part in Sunday worship, having the privilege of chatting with and visiting some of you, and reading books. Most importantly, I have to keep a reflective journal - not an easy task! The journal is not just a record of events, but also to do with the meaning of what I've done and experienced. I might write about how I felt before, during and after this sermon. For example, when I stood up in the pulpit, my main thought was 'What am I doing here?'! I might also write about what I think God is saing to me about enquiry and the ordained ministry.
[The minister] best described what I am doing when I was first introduced to you: "[Nodrog] is asking some big questions of God, like 'What shall I do with the rest of my life' "

And it was while I was discussing with [the minister] the reading from Ecclesiastes 4, that I had - or received - a sudden insight:
We were discussing the question, What is the Philosopher really saying in this passage, in this book? I shouted out - 'He's doing an Enquirer's course - this is his reflective Journal'. Of course, the Enquiry process is so new that many in the church haven't heard of it, but the process of questioning God, or asking yourself, 'What is the meaning of life? What am I doing here?' is not new at all, and I believe that the book of Ecclesiastes records some of the Philosopher's journey through these big questions.

[The minister] looked last week at how he started on a fairly depressing note - 'life is useless, there is nothing new under the sun, it is all chasing after the wind'. But by chapter 4, the question 'what do we have to show for all our toil?' has been replaced - for a while, at least - by further questions, and some tentative answers. Just as my reflective journal allows me to ask further questions and perhaps find some possible answers.

One area of his questioning seems to be 'Why do you allow injustice, God? Why are the oppressed weeping, why does no one help them?'. These are questions that many people today are asking - even using them as a reason to doubt God exists. The fact that there are so many oppressed by poverty, by sickness, [PAUSE] EVEN by other people, can make the problems seem overwhelming. What can any of us do in the face of large-scale suffering?
The Philosopher writes - 'I looked at... the oppressed... and no one would help them because their oppressors had power on their side.' As [the minister] reminded us in the children's address, we can feel outclassed by issues at the international level, but we need to remember that we can help on a one-to-one basis. Getting close to someone who is hurting can relieve the oppression that they are under.

Further on in the chapter, the Philosopher has continued to work through these questions adn come to that point. In verse 9, he states: 'two are better off than one, because together they can work more effectively'.
Now, for some, [PAUSE] but not for all, [PAUSE], this partenrship may mean marriage. But not all the time - as verse 12 states 'two men can resist an attack that would defeat one man alone'. Some people may be called to be single, and gain strength from business partnerships, or friendships. Verse 10 talks of, perhaps, two friends out walking: "If one fo them falls down, the other can help him up. But if someone is alone and falls, it's just too bad, because there is no one to help him." What is very clear from these verses is that we were not created to be individuals - it's as if the Philosopher is reflecting on the passage from Genesis 2, where God has made Adam, and notes that 'it is not good for him to be alone'.
In fact, the writer goes further than the benefits of just two in relationship together - 'a rope made of three cords is hard to break'.
What does he mean by that?
I believe that he is bringing God into the relationship equation. In general, it seems that the writer realises God has a part to play in life, but he can't understand exactly what it is. However, in this picture of the three-corded rope, he acknowledges that bringing God into your friendships, business partnerships, dealings with your next-door neighbour, will bring much more strength and richness to that interaction.

What does that mean for us now? We have to look no further than our New Testament reading. Jesus makes it quite clear in the well-known parable of the Good Samaritan that just one ordinary person can break a barrier of oppression - a gap between two peoples who looked down on each other.

It only takes one person to do something for another individual, and in doing so, start building a relationship that can transform a community. If "mighty oaks from little acorns grow", where can you plant an acorn - today, this week? Who do you know who is oppressed, or outcast? Are there barriers that you can help break down between age groups, between nationalities, between housing estates...?

You may have heard the following story before. Why not close your eyes, if you like, and try and imagine you are in the story, observing the situation.

A man was on holiday in a seaside town, and one morning, he went for a walk along the beach. As he walked, hea noticed a number of stranded starfish all over the beach. He approached a young boy, who was picking up the starfish one by one and, very gently, throwing them back into the sea.
'Why are you doing that?' the man asked.
The boy replied, 'Because the tide is out and the sun is coming up - if I don't do it, they'll die.'
'Just throwing a few back won't make any difference,' exclaimed the man. 'This beach stretches for miles - there must be thousands and thousands of starfish.'
The boy paused with another starfish in his hands, and looked at the man. 'It makes a difference to this one,' he said, and continued his task.

The following morning there were two people on the beach, a man and a boy, throwing starfish back into the sea.

Jesus said 'You go, then, and do the same'
Make a difference
Break a barrier
Build a relationship

Amen.




Even as I review this, I know that I wouldn't write the same words today (it was 6.5 years ago!) but I'll avoid commenting on specifics in case anyone else wants to first!
However I did recently discover the source of the closing story: 'The Star Thrower' by Loren Eisley or Eiseley (anthropologist, 1907-77).