The Story Chapter 9 - Ruth

When talking about Bible, use Library metaphor.

History, poetry, biography, letters:

 

Today we’ve arrived in the Mills and Boon section!

If there’s a more touching romance in Bible, yet to find it.

 

Not just a love story – faith, hope and love story played out among the four central characters – Ruth, Naomi and Boaz… and of course, God, who all the while is taking the circumstances of their Lower stories, and weaving them into the fabric of his Upper Story. Bringing good, even out of the bad things that happen.

 

Make no mistake, Ruth’s story has a bad beginning. Three untimely deaths leave three widows, two of them just young women, and there are difficult decisions to be made.

 

Everyone’s trying to be kind and to think of the others, but there are so many different forces at work.

 

Naomi feels the pull of home. She, her husband and her two sons came to Moab ten years earlier to escape a famine, but that crisis is long past. There’s nothing to keep her here anymore. With her menfolk gone, she needs her kinsfolk around her more than ever.

 

And although she still has her daughters-in-law, Orpah and Ruth, they are Moabite women. This is their home. They’re young enough to re-marry, but if they come back to Israel with her who’d give them a second glance? Moabite widows? It’s not that long since Moab was a bitter enemy of Israel, and people have long memories. Those girls wouldn’t stand a chance, she thought. They’d be better off staying here.

 

And I don’t doubt that those same thoughts were in the minds of Ruth and Orpah too. To stay with Naomi would mean an entire change of life for them. Different culture, different place, different Gods and maybe – at the end of it – no one to love them or take care of them. It’s small wonder they wept. It was a no-win situation.

 

And Naomi makes that clear – there’s no future for you with me, she tells them. And that’s enough to tip the scales for Orpah, who returns to her people with tears and a heavy heart. And who could blame her?

 

But Ruth won’t take no for an answer – and her little speech to Naomi must go down as one of the most selfless ever made:

 

“Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me.”

 

So that was things settled.

 

 And you’ve heard how things play out – how they return home, and Ruth sets about trying to eke out a living for the two of them. In ancient Israel, God had ruled that when the harvest was being cut, whatever fell and was not gathered in should be left for the widow and the orphans.

 

And when Boaz hears who this young woman gathering the leavings is, he treats her well – not just because Naomi is related to him, but because he’s heard of Ruth’s kindness to her and appreciates what she’s done. “May the Lord repay you for what you have done. May you be richly rewarded by the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come to take refuge”.

 

Little does Boaz know that he himself is going to be the answer to that prayer, because it isn’t long before Naomi sends Ruth off in her finest to curl up at Boaz’s feet and let him know that if he wants her, she can be his.

 

“I am your servant, Ruth” she says by the light of the stars. “Spread the corner of your garment over me, since you are a guardian-redeemer of our family”.

 

And in English we lose something wonderful in that exchange, because in Hebrew the word for ‘garment’ and the word for ‘wing’ have exactly the same root.

 

Boaz prayed that Ruth would be blessed by God and taken under his wing. And here he is, living that out, as he spreads his cloak over her to draw her close, keep her warm and secure her future.

 

But there’s one last hurdle to clear before the happy ending. In Israel’s legal system, care was taken that childless widows shouldn’t be left on their own and the responsibility of marrying them and hopefully giving them children would fall on the nearest male relative:  the guardian-redeemer.

 

Boaz was willing to do this for Ruth and Naomi, even though it could complicate things in terms of his own estate, but he wasn’t the closest male relative. Fortunately when that individual discovered that with the land came Ruth’s hand in marriage, his enthusiasm for the transaction waned, and Boaz was able to step in and marry her himself.

 

And so this episode in the story which began with widowhood, displacement, sorrow and childlessness ends with marriage, home, happiness, and a new baby whose significance we’ll speak of right at the end.

 

But what can you and I take from Ruth’s story today?

 

Well let me offer a few reflections on that, in closing.

 

First about faithfulness – and it’s the observation that faithfulness is costly.

 

Part of the reason we celebrate Ruth’s story is that when push came to shove, she stayed with Naomi even though that seemed to be the less attractive option. That’s why we’re talking about Ruth today, and not Orpah.

 

And we need to give Boaz some credit for taking Ruth on; marrying a Moabite widow and complicating his own family affairs mightn’t have seemed the best choice when there were probably other women who would have been thought of as more suitable matches.

 

But he was faithful to his obligations to Naomi and to Ruth, and glad to fulfil them. And because he loved Ruth, he thought little of the cost to his reputation.

 

And yet there was a cost. By definition, faithfulness is costly because it involves us giving up some of the choices we might make, and keeping faith with those whom we’ve committed ourselves to.

 

Staying faithful in body mind and soul is one of the biggest challenges of our lives – whether that’s to a spouse, or our children, our parents, our friends, our faith or our God.

 

And it’s difficult because all of us, like Orpah, are caught between the desire to do our own thing and go our own way, or to do what we know is right, even if – in the moment – it might seem less attractive.

 

In our time, it feels a wee bit like fidelity’s a dying art. My wife was speaking to someone the other day who was saying that they’re soon to be 15 years married, but among their friends they feel like the last couple standing. It takes work and self-sacrifice to make a marriage work, or indeed, any relationship. Is the divorce rate a symptom of our culture’s inability to commit and stay committed?

 

How’s your fidelty this morning? Are you being faithful to those you’re connected to, be they friends or family? Are they getting enough of your time and presence and attention or are you thinking mostly of yourself and your needs?

 

It’s not easy to be faithful – we need all the help we can get. And that’s why our faithfulness to God matters even more, because it’s as we put deep roots down into him that we find the wisdom and the will to make good choices about how to live.

 

The fruit of the Spirit, Paul tells us; the fruit that grows in us as we abide in him, is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, FAITHFULNESS and self control. Against these things – he says – there is no law. More than that, we might add, when we see them in action, as we do today in the life of Ruth, how lovely they really are

 

Faithfulness is beautiful to behold. But it’s also costly.

 

Secondly – with God, there’s always more going on.

 

Upper story and Lower story – as events play themselves out in the Lower story, God is weaving them into his Upper Story – even the dark and difficult times. See that most in Naomi’s journey this week.

 

 As she tries to persuade Orpah and Ruth to leave her, she says “it is more bitter for me than for you, because the Lord’s hand has turned against me”. And later when she returns to Bethlehem, she says to the people “ Call me Mara – which means bitter – because the Lord Almighty has made my life very bitter. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.”

 

And here’s the question – is that who God is, or is that who Naomi, in her struggles thinks God is?

 

It’s a live question. Does God send car crashes, and cancer and typhoons? In the ancient world, they had a view of God which saw him pulling all the strings all the time so everything was directly attributable to him. I’m not so sure that we’d see things in quite the same light today, though some may choose to.

 

It’s one thing to say that God causes these things; it’s another to say that unfortunately these are the kinds of things that do happen in God’s world, because at present it’s not the world he wanted it to be. He may permit them, but that’s not the same as saying that he causes them.

 

And yet, even within Naomi’s worldview, things are afoot. At the very moment when she feels that God’s hand has turned against her, God’s hand is turning towards her in the person of Ruth, who stays.

 

And though Naomi feels herself cut off and abandoned, the kindness of Boaz to Ruth brings the first glimmer of hope that things might actually work out for them.

 

Listen to what she says when Ruth returns from her successful day in the fields, and tells Naomi that she’s met Boaz:

 

“The Lord Bless him. He has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead”.

 

Who is ‘he’? She could be talking about Boaz – who’s remembered them in their plight. But she might equally be talking about God. “I thought you’d abandoned me, God, but I can see now that you still care and you still provide”.

 

“Call me Mara” she’d said in bitterness of spirit on returning home. But no-one did. We don’t hear that name again. They called her Naomi because that’s who she still was, despite everything that had happened. Her worst moments and darkest days weren’t the last word on her life. God had other plans in the Upper Story that – as yet - she knew nothing about. Plans that would end with her having not only Ruth, but a new son in Boaz, and a grandson – Obed – to bounce on her knee.

 

With God there is always more going on than meets the eye. Don’t despair too soon.

 

And then lastly two very quick points about the overarching narrative of the story.

 

Over the past few weeks we’ve seen Israel slipping into what we’ve called the sin cycle. They’re no sooner out of Egypt than they’re grumbling and making idols. They conquer the land with God’s help, and then end up taking on board the practices of their pagan neighbours.

 

They’re painfully slow to learn that they can’t play fast and loose with the covenant and still expect God’s blessing under that covenant.

 

It’s already pretty clear that God’s plan to reveal himself through this supposedly holy nation is going to be fraught with difficulties. Maybe God knew that all along. Maybe it was we who had to realise that, so we’d be ready to look elsewhere for a solution.

 

But in today’s story we get a glimmer of a new and wider truth that takes us right back to Abraham, and forward to Christ.

 

The promise to Abraham was that through his seed, all nations would be blessed. Today, in Ruth, we are discovering that when anyone, from any nation, takes shelter under God’s wing, they will find a welcome. As Israel will discover in the years ahead, belonging to that nation is no guarantee of God’s favour where faith is lacking. It’s faith  - an active trust in God – that really counts.

 

And lastly, I said we’d say a word about the significance of Naomi’s new grandson – Ruth’s boy - Obed.

 

If you look at Jesus’ family tree as it’s recorded in Matthew you read these lines:

 

⁵Salmon the father of Boaz whose mother was Rahab,

Boaz, the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth,

Obed the father of Jesse, ⁶and Jesse the father of King David.

 

Unusually, in the genealogy, two women are mentioned at this point. We discover that Boaz’s mother was Rahab, who you might remember from chapter 7. She was the prostitute who helped Israelite spies scope out the city of Jericho.

 

So with that in his background, maybe Boaz had a particular eye for those on the fringes of society.

 

 And alongside Boaz, Ruth is named. Ruth whose people were from Moab, and who – by rights – should have been an enemy of Israel.

 

How fantastic that both women should be singled out, not for exclusion but inclusion in this way. Making a point, perhaps, that God responds to faith, wherever he finds it.

 

And how wonderful that this little story in Israel’s history should lead, in two generations, to their greatest King- King David, and in another fourteen, to the Christ himself, born of David’s line in David’s town – the town of Bethlehem where almost all of Ruth’s story is played out.

 

Once again, here in the depths of the Old Testament, we’re anticipating the New – and the coming of the one who will be the guardian-redeemer for the whole of the human race. Jesus the Christ, saving us when we were powerless to save ourselves.

The Story Chapter 8 - Judges

What images come into your mind when you hear the word “judge”?  Humour me for a moment and turn to the person next to you and share what came into your mind first.

 

Feedback.

 

In the Story we’ve come to a 300 year spell known as the period of the Judges and there’s a book of the Bible bearing that name.  But these Judges wear armour rather than robes and carry spears rather than briefcases.

 

We tend to think of judges as the people who can throw you into jail but the Judges we’re looking at this morning were the folk who got the people of Israel out of jail – out of the self-imposed prisons they created for themselves by their disobedience.

 

By now, we’re seven hundred years after God’s promises to Abraham; the promise to bless his descendants and make them a blessing to the whole world; and the promise to settle them in the land of Caanan.  You’ll remember that the overarching plan in the Upper Story is that God wants to be with us, but sin has made that difficult. So his plan at the present time is to reveal himself through a people – through this holy nation of Israel. They are to be different. Salt and light to the nations around them.

 

So by this stage, after the leadership of Moses and Joshua, the people of Israel are finally in their own land; God is present with them in the tabernacle; they have the law to guide their lives and a sacrificial system to help them atone for their sins. They have everything they need.

 

But they’re still not getting it right.

 

The first few paragraphs of Chapter 8 state the problems well –

 

“Another generation grew up who knew neither the Lord nor what he had done for Israel. Then the Israelites did evil in the sight of the Lord and served the Baals. They forsook the Lord, the God of their ancestors, who had brought them out of Egypt. They followed and worshipped various gods of the people around them. And in his anger against Israel, the Lord gave them into the hands of raiders who plundered them.”

 

Israel made two key mistakes after conquering the land.

 

Firstly they hadn’t driven out all the Caananites; they’d settled down alongside them. And over time they started to assimilate Caananite practices. The salt was in danger of losing its saltiness.

 

And if we had more time, we might well think about that for ourselves this morning. To what extent are our lives shaped by the values and practices of the secular world around us? Are we in danger of blending in so much that we end up not being any different at all?

 

Israel blended in too much. But as well as that, they hadn’t done enough to teach their children about God and the things he’d done for them. The memory of God and his great acts of deliverance were being lost among them.

 

It’s a sobering thought for you and me that Christianity is only ever one generation away from extinction. How will our children and grandchildren know who God is and what God means to us if we don’t find ways of sharing that with them? We can’t leave that up to the church any more than we can leave a child’s upbringing to its schoolteachers. The foundational work should be done at home, in the context of the family.

 

Over the years we’ve tended to think of Sunday School as the place where children get their Christian education. But that was never how it was meant to be. Sunday School was only to be the icing on the cake – the real substance was what was done at home through prayer, conversation and reading. That’s why we’ve been trying to encourage the young families in the congregation to do the Story together. If we don’t teach our kids to read and pray and think and talk about God, rest assured - no-one else is going to do it for us.

 

So two big mistakes, right at the beginning of this chapter: Assimilation, and failing to pass on the story to the next generation.

And those led to a repeated cycle for the next 300 years of their history. Washing machines have a spin cycle, Israel had a sin cycle!

And it went something like this –

 

They’d forsake God and worship the deities of the people they lived alongside.

They’d lose God’s protection, and some form of judgment or oppression would fall on them.

They’d cry out to God for deliverance

God would raise up a Judge to lead them and save them.

 

Out of the 300 years the book of Judges covers, 111 of those years were spent living under oppressive regimes because the people repeatedly turned their backs on God.

 

Israel is still struggling to learn the same old lesson she should have learned in the years of wandering in the desert – you can’t expect to live under God’s blessing if you play fast and loose with God’s covenant. And that’s a lesson you and I need to learn too, because it isn’t just Israel who gets caught up in the sin cycle. How often have you found yourself, head in hands, saying ‘not again’. I can’t believe I’m back in this same godforsaken place all over again”.

 

Take courage from God’s faithfulness to Israel. But take care not to presume on his grace and mercy.

 

So what about these Judges – chosen to get Israel back on track?

Well, there were six of them, and we hear three of their stories in some detail in Chapter 8 – those of Deborah, Gideon and Samson.

 

Now Deborah is probably new to you; and isn’t it great to find these words in the middle of a patriarchal text that was written in a patriarchal time. “Now Deborah, a prophet, the wife of Lappidoth, was leading Israel at that time. She held court under the palm of Deborah and the Israelites went up to her to have their disputes decided.”

 

She must have been an amazing, powerful woman to have exerted that kind of authority in a world where men almost always held sway. Strong in the Lord, wise, greatly respected. The kind of woman that no-one could really argue against because of the sheer quality of her character.

 

I had a wee smile on my face as I thought about Deborah, because an image came to mind almost straight away. If you go into the vestry, there’s a photograph on the wall that was taken to mark the centenary of this building in 1978. It’s a picture of the elders of the Kirk, and a fine body of men they are too. I have to be careful what I’m saying here, because there’s still a good few of them around!

 

But on the front left of the photograph, there’s one lady – Nan Sutherland – who I only know by reputation because Nan died just a matter of weeks before I was inducted to this charge. But I’ve heard nothing but good things about Nan in my time here. Strong in the Lord, wise, greatly respected. A woman in what – at least in those days – was a very much a man’s world. When Nan spoke, people listened – and they listened because they knew the quality of her character and her walk with the Lord.

 

Deborah, it seems to me, was cut from the same cloth – and that quiet authority she had was married with courage, because she didn’t just order the troops into battle – she went with them into the thick of it, and saw them triumph. So that was Deborah.

 

Gideon’s story is probably better known. He was a nobody from a little tribe in Israel, and when the angel of the Lord greets him with the words “The Lord Is With You, Mighty Warrior!” he looks over his shoulder to see who the angel’s talking to!

 

But it’s Gideon God is after, and though he takes some persuading, he eventually comes round to the idea that God is indeed calling him to liberate Israel from the Midianites. Not with 32,000 warriors, but with 300, so that Israel would never forget who it was who had really saved them.

 

And lastly, there was Samson. An interesting case if ever there was one. We’re told he was a Nazirite, set apart to God from birth – unable to cut his hair or take strong drink. But however God was at work in him or through him, there’s not much evidence of Godliness in Samson.

 

He developed a taste for Philistine women and for swift, bloody revenge; he brooded over his rights when they were infringed, but gave no thought to his responsibilities; he thought nothing of visiting prostitutes, or taking up with a woman who was clearly out to betray him. And all this time, for all that he was a Nazirite, we never once in the whole story hear Samson talk with God as Deborah had, and as Gideon had. At least, not until the very end.

 

The first time he’s recorded as praying is right at the end of his life when he grasps those pillars in the temple of Dagon and asks God for the strength to do what he has to do. And as you know, that prayer was answered.

 

Samson, Gideon, Deborah. Three very different people, and yet all of them Judges – used by God to deliver his people.

 

And if there’s one phrase from today’s readings that seems to pull their stories together into some kind of unity, it’s this, taken from God’s meeting with Gideon:

 

“The Lord turned to him and said: “Go in the strength you have. Am I not sending you?”

 

Go in the strength you have; your woman’s strength, Deborah. Your humble strength, Gideon. Your foolhardy, fearless and ultimately self-defeating strength, Samson. Go in the strength you have, and rest assured I will use you.

 

That, I think, is our word for today. Go in the strength you have.

 

God calls us as the people we are, into his service. He knows you – he knows you better than you know yourself. And it’s you that he calls; with all the light and shade, gifting and weakness that makes you the person you are. He calls you, and he says what matters is not the strength you feel you lack, but the strength you already have. Go in the strength you have. It doesn’t matter if you’re 8 or 80. Go in the strength you have – that’s all I ask of you.

 

But Go.

 

Sitting around is not an option for a disciple. Being a passive consumer is not an option for a disciple. To be a follower of Jesus, by definition, is to be in motion.

 

God’s command is to ‘go’ – to be active in his service; not passive.

Deborah went; Gideon went; even Samson went. And things happened as a result.

 

How many more things could happen in our church and in our community, if we recognised the strength that we have – the things we’re good at or love to do or have time to do – and put them at God’s disposal.

 

This year, for Right Christmas, we’re thinking about our talents and putting them at the service of the church and community. And I know that many of you already do a lot to help out in different ways, so this may not be for you.

 

But here are some things to think about –

 

If you don’t have some kind of a role or involvement in the church which is about service of some kind, maybe it’s time you did. The church is often called the body of Christ, and each part of the body has its own particular role. It wouldn’t be in the body if it didn’t. Have you found your role yet? A way that you can help?

 

And if you’re one of those folk who’s already running hard doing things, you might ask yourself this question. Am I working out of my strengths? Are the things I’m doing life giving for me? Are there other things I might be doing which are a better fit with who I am?

 

Food for thought.

 

And today I’m just sowing some seeds, but over the next wee while I’m going to ask you to be thinking about this, and then I’m going to put out a sheet with some suggestions for ways you might be able to help – regardless of age, experience or ability. There will be something for everyone, and it would be great to get as many of those back as possible, to make sure we’re using the talents of everyone who’s a member of this church community.

 

So to get us started, would you be prepared to think about serving the church as an elder. Could you take a slot on the car rota, bringing people who don’t drive to church on a Sunday? Could you help dig paths to the Kirk on snowy Sundays? Could you sing, or play an instrument, or lead a prayer or reading in worship? Could you give some time over to visiting an elderly person as part of the visiting team? Could you take a turn on the crèche rota; or with a bit of training, take a turn running the laptop during the service? If you’re struggling to get about these days, could you take a more active role in praying for your church from the comfort of your own home, with a little bit of encouragement and direction? Could you commit time to starting a Mainly Music group within our church, reaching out to young mums and toddlers within our community?

 

How’s that for starters?

 

Go in the strength you have, God says to Gideon.

 

He doesn’t ask us to be strong, to be someone else. He asks us to be ourselves – that’s how he best uses us.

 

But he also asks us to go.

 

And the Story shows, again and again, that whoever we are, and whatever our talents, when we go, in faith, God will use us.

 

Amen

The Story Chapter 7 - Joshua (Remembrance Sunday)

Name me some of the heroes/heroines in the Bible. Shout em out!

 

One name didn’t hear – unsung hero – Joshua. Hear how important he was in the story this morning.

 

Over the past few months in church we’ve been working our way through a teaching programme called the Story which is like the Bible in summary form, taking you all the way through from Genesis to Revelation in 31 chapters.

 

And up ‘til now, it’s been pretty familiar territory – we’ve met some of the big heroes of the faith – Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and Joseph. And now Moses, probably the biggest Old Testament hero of them all. Moses, who led the people of Israel out of slavery in Egypt and brought them to the edge of the land God had promised to give them. The land of Caanan.

 

But at the beginning of today’s chapter, chapter 7, Moses has died, and it falls to his assistant, Joshua, to fill his shoes.

 

Now Joshua himself is a man to be reckoned with. He’s no green youth -  he’d be well into middle age by this time. He’d been at Moses’ right hand for years; he’d been one of the spies originally sent in to Caanan for reconnaissance; He was as good a deputy as Moses could have had. But the fact remained that he wasn’t Moses. And the prospect of following on from such an imposing figure must have been incredibly dauntung. Just ask Davy Moyes how that feels!

 

So listen out for the reassurance God brings him as he starts out on his journey of leadership. These are the first few lines in Chapter 7 of the story, which are taken from the book of Joshua in the Old Testament:

 

¹After the death of Moses the servant of the Lord, the Lord said to Joshua son of Nun, Moses’ assistant: ²“Moses my servant is dead. Now then, you and all these people, get ready to cross the Jordan River into the land I am about to give to them—to the Israelites. ³I will give you every place where you set your foot, as I promised Moses. ⁴Your territory will extend from the desert to Lebanon, and from the great river, the Euphrates—all the Hittite country—to the Great Sea^£ on the west. ⁵No-one will be able to stand up against you all the days of your life. As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you.

⁶“Be strong and courageous, because you will lead these people to inherit the land I swore to their forefathers to give them. ⁷Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go.

 

Be strong and courageous. Did you hear that? Twice in those verses, and another two times before the end of the chapter. 

 

God knows that Joshua’s afraid – who wouldn’t be, in his shoes?

 

But a hero isn’t someone who’s unafraid. A hero’s someone who manages to rise above their fears and do what they have to do. That’s what makes them special. They overcome their fear.

A father and son were parting in a novel I read recently, and the boy was worried about how he would cope without his dad. “Can a man still be brave if he’s afraid?” asked the boy. “That’s the only time a man can be brave.” his father replied.

 

History shows that Joshua faced up to his fears, and under his leadership, not Moses’, Israel took possession of the land that God had promised to them.

 

But how did he do it? How did he overcome his fears?

 

Well we don’t get the inside story on that one, but it strikes me, from the passage we just heard, that there were two things that must have helped him.

 

Firstly, God reminds Joshua that there’s a much bigger story going on than the narrative around his feelings and his fears. There’s a wider purpose and a greater good he’s called to serve.

 

Be strong and courageous (he says), because you will lead these people to inherit the land I swore to their forefathers to give them. 

 

That’s the big story. This isn’t just Joshua’s story – it’s the story of his fathers and forefathers; his descendants and their descendants.  

God’s forming a nation here. Blessing Joshua’s people so that they in turn will become a blessing to the whole world.  That’s where we’re headed. And that’s the perspective Joshua has to try and get on things. His life is caught up into a greater cause.

  

As many of you know I’m a Liverpool fan and I love reading the old stories about Bill Shankly who managed them in the 1960’s.

 

Apparently there was one occasion when Shanks found Tommy Smith, a no-nonsense defender, stretched out on the treatment table at half-time. Shanks asked him what was wrong and he said ‘It’s my leg, boss’.

 

“That’s not your leg, son” said Shanks. “That’s Liverpool’s leg!”

 

Joshua overcame his personal fears by remembering that he was called to serve a greater cause.

 

And I wonder how many of our unsung heroes in wartime found their courage and rose to the occasion, in exactly the same way. By remembering the bigger picture they were a part of – the defence of their nation and all it stood for, the defence of the weak and vulnerable and the need to strike back against the forces of tyranny.

 

Joshua overcame his fears, firstly by remembering he was part of something greater. But secondly, by remembering that he didn’t go alone.

 

“As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

 

If I had a pound for every time God makes that kind of promise in the Bible I might not be rich, but I could afford a nice lunch out at the Cock and Bull….

 

It’s a constant refrain on God’s lips. And it almost always comes to people who are afraid –

 

Moses at the burning bush when he’s told to go back to Egypt.

Jacob when he’s told to go back home and face the wrath of his brother Esau.

Gideon, when he’s told to take on the might of the people of Midian.

Jesus’ disciples, when he tells them that he’ll soon return to His Father, but that he’ll send the Holy Spirit to remain with them

 

I will be with you – God says. Go in faith, and you go in my strength, not just your own.

 

For the man or woman who believes, those words are often enough to stir our courage to do what’s right, even when it feels beyond us.

 

One of my favourite war poems expresses that though beautifully. It was written by a soldier called Malcolm Boyle, and it was found on his body after he was killed in action during the D-day landings.

 

If I should never see the moon again

Rising red gold across the harvest field,

Or feel the stinging of soft April rain,

As the brown earth her hidden treasures yield.

 

If I should never taste the salt sea spray

As the ship beats her course against the breeze,

Or smell the dog-rose and the new mown hay

Or moss and primrose beneath the trees.

 

If I should never hear the thrushes wake

Long before the sunrise in the glimmering dawn

Or watch the huge Atlantic rollers break

Against the rugged cliffs in baffling scorn.

 

If I have said goodbye to stream and wood,

To the wide ocean and the green clad bill,

I know that He who made this world so good

Has somewhere made a heaven better still.

 

This I bear witness with my latest breath

Knowing the love of God,

I fear not death.

  

 

Today we’ve been thinking about unsung heroes. Ordinary men and women, who found it within themselves to do extraordinary things.

 

Three sailors, risking their lives to retrieve information that changed the balance of the entire war.

 

Thousands of nurses, overcoming their own distress to put on a brave, friendly face in dealing with the wounded and the dying.

 

One man, taking it upon himself to rescue hundreds of Jewish children from the clutches of the Nazis.

 

Another, offering his life on a beach in Normandy with a poem tucked into one of his uniform pockets.

 

And Joshua – accepting the call to lead his people, knowing full well all the challenges that lay ahead.

 

They were heroes not because they knew no fear – but because they knew fear and overcame it.

 

They understood that they were part of a bigger and more important story that they needed to serve – maybe even with their lives.

 

And they knew, many of them, that when in faith we seek to do what’s right, our God will be with us, whatever the future holds.

Amen

An Apology

Folks, my apologies for neglecting to post for so long. You would think that cut and paste each week would be easy, but it takes more time than you might realise to get it formatted right and I've found it hard to make the time each week. But I will try to do better and will be uploading the Story sermons from now on, including the ones I've missed.