Sermon for Ordination and Induction of Rev Alastair Bruce, Ellon Parish Church

Isaiah 30:15-18           Mark 1:29-39

There’s a story told about a minister who was conducting a baptism
as part of morning worship, and she’d been running around so much
before the service she didn’t realise that there was no water in the
font until they were halfway through the baptismal hymn.

So as discreetly as she could, she started making eyes to the
Session Clerk and nodding towards the font, and he – being quick on
the uptake – realised what the problem was and slipped out to try
and find a solution.

Now this was a wee country church, and the only receptacle he could
find to hand was a vase with some flowers in it. So he wheeched out
the flowers and filled up the vase with fresh water from the tap
outside. But how on earth was he going to get it into the font?

Well, of course there was no discreet way to do it, so ended up
doing the only thing he could.. He strode back into the church during
the last verse of the hymn, holding the vase out before him with
great pomp and ceremony. Poured the water into the font with a
flourish, bowed to the minister and sat back down in his pew.

And afterwards everyone was saying ‘wasn’t that a lovely thing they
did with the water. I’ve never seen that done before – wasn’t that a
lovely thing.”

And lo and behold – a new tradition was born!

How do we end up doing the things that we do within the church?

I wish I could say it was all by careful thought and prayer and
design, but we’re a human institution as well as a spiritual one, and
our reasons for doing things aren’t always as spiritual as they might
be.

Some of our practices owe more to accident and circumstance than
deliberate planning. Speaking to some of our members you’d think
that the old tradition of celebrating communion twice a year was the
eleventh commandment rather than a quirk of fate.

It’s well known that John Knox wanted the new church to celebrate the sacrament
every Sunday, there just weren’t enough ministers to make that possible in the early years of the Reformation. An accident of history that became a cherished tradition.

Some of the things we do in the church we do because it’s aye been
that way; and we in the Kirk are rarely in the vanguard of change.
We keep doing things that were meaningful for previous generations
without stopping to ask if they continue to have meaning for this
generation.

And some of the things we do in the church, we do simply because
we’re swept along in a river of well-meaning activity borne out of a
sense of duty, We ought to do this, we ought to do that. It’s what
the writer Gerry Hughes calls a hardening of the oughteries.

I heard a sketch a while ago by Adrian Plass in which a man comes to
faith.

“So what do I do now?” he says to his Christian friend….

“Well there’s the Bible Study on Monday, the Prayer Meeting’s on
Tuesday; on Thursday there’s a new Nurture Group starting – you’ll
need to get to that. Friday there’s a bus going to hear an American
Evangelist, Saturday there’s a day-long conference on next year’s
Mission and on Sunday there’s the service in the morning, Christian
Aid meal at lunchtime and communion in the evening.”

“Hallalujah!” says the new convert.  “Free at last”

We’re so busy doing things in the church. But I often wonder if
we’re too busy. Do we speak about the grace of God, but then find
ourselves living with the Pelagian anxiety that it all comes down to us
and our efforts? 

It’s easy to be busy in the church, especially in these challenging
times. It’s much harder to be busy with the right things.

But what are the right things? How would we even begin to know?

Well Isaiah and Mark have some wisdom to share with us on that
question this evening.

God, through the prophet Isaiah, is addressing his people. And his
accusation is that they are busy making their own plans about how to
deal with the challenges they face. Parleying with stronger nations,
forging alliances, playing politics, or failing all of that – simply
running away from danger. Fleeing on horses.

Their sin isn’t that they live in the real world and have tough choices
to make. It’s that they’re acting as though their hope and their
salvation lies entirely in their own hands.

And isn’t that a little like us, sometimes? Aren’t we tempted to think
that salvation lies in the next programme, or scheme that we start
in church life? If we could only get this group going, or get that
initiative started, or raise the money to do this piece of work, then
our fortunes would change. If we could only get that nice young,
capable minister and convince him and his family to stay around for a
few years, then we’d be sorted!

Well we need plans and programmes, and we need people to serve
the church in a whole host of different ways. But the place we need
to start isn’t with the doing, it’s with the being. Hear the word of
the Lord this evening through Isaiah:

God says: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and
trust is your strength”.

Alastair; good people of Ellon church - let those words encourage
you tonight. God is reminding you of your need to draw aside. To
rest; to change your thinking; to be still; to trust. Why? So that
when you go out in his name to live your life in all its aspects you’re
working from a place of centredness and contentment in God. You’re
channelling God’s energies, not just trying to summon your own.
You’re working to God’s priorities and not just pushing on with your
own. 

As ever, in recent years, there’s been a lot of talk about new
structures in the church and positive change is always welcome, but
what our church really needs isn’t new structures but deeper people.
Folk who, like a tree planted by a river, put down deep roots into
God that see them growing, stable and fruitful.

Can you imagine the powerhouses our congregations could become if
more of our people were willing to make that inner journey? We’d be
ready to take a few more risks. We’d be more willing to lend a hand
and not leave the work to others. We’d know in the core of our being
that we are loved with an unfailing love. That love might even spill
over to those around us and draw them into the circle of what God is
doing in the world.

I’ve believed for many years that the greatest task that our church
faces isn’t the task of mission; that’s a hugely important but
ultimately secondary task.

Our biggest task is to rediscover what is means to be disciples.
Knowing God for ourselves, not as a philosophical construct or a
tradition, or a printed word in a book, but as the loving Father in
whom we live and move and have our being. The God who’s closer to
us than our own skin.

If all of us could get closer to that God in that way, I’m pretty sure
all the work needing done in our churches would soon fall into place.

The writer and poet Antoine de Saint Exupery says

“If you want to build a ship, don't drum up people to collect wood
and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long
for the endless immensity of the sea.”

The longing and love have to come first – then the doing naturally
follows. That’s why God says to us this evening:

“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is
your strength”.

And in tonight’s gospel reading we see the fruit of that in a very
immediate, practical way in Jesus’ life. A way that can help us in our
living.

Jesus is in Capernaum and as usual, once the healings start, there’s a
press of bodies at the door looking for his time and attention. A
busy evening stretches out into a late night, but after a few short
hours of sleep he gets up while it’s still dark and manages to step
through the thicket of snoring disciples without waking anyone;
heading off to find some time and space to be with his Father.

But before long, Simon and some of his friends have noticed Jesus’
absence and when they finally track him down he’s greeted with

‘”Where have you been?! Everyone’s looking for you!”

Of course they are. There’s more work to be done. There’s always
more work to be done. More healings, more exorcisms. More need.

And in the face of that need, Jesus does something we just wouldn’t
expect Jesus to do. He says ‘no’.

Let me say that again because it might fly in the face of some of
your ideas about Jesus. Faced with real human need in those
circumstances, Jesus says ‘no’ and he moves on. Not unkindly, but
that’s what he does.

Why?

Well, he tells us in verse 38 of chapter 1

“Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so that I can
preach there also. That is why I have come.” 

That is why I have come.

Apparently, Jesus is clear in his own mind about his purposes, and
even when something that’s good and worthy comes his way, if it
doesn’t fit with the plan God’s given him then he feels free to say
‘no’.

That’s a liberating story for you and me and I want to end by making
just one observation about it. And it’s this -  You can’t say ‘NO’ to
things until you’ve said your definitive ‘YES’.

Jesus knew what he needed to be about. I think it’s safe to assume
that in his times of repentance, rest, quietness and trust he grew to
understand what God was calling him to be and to do and he said YES
to it.

And once he’d made up his mind about that, the rest was pretty
straightforward. When something came along that didn’t fit with
the plan, even something good, he said ‘NO’. It simplified things
immensely.

It wasn’t that the other things weren’t important – they often were.
They just weren’t what he was giving himself to at that time. They
were good, but they weren’t the best. They were worthy, but they
weren’t his particular calling.

His saying ‘YES’ to a few things allowed him to say a kind ‘NO’ to all
the rest.

Is part of the reason we get so overcommitted and stretched in life
is that we’re not clear on what we’ve given our ‘YES’ to, so we find it
really hard to say ‘NO’?

Is that why so many ministers, in the memorable words of Flannery
O’Connor, become a quivering mass of availability?

It’s much better for all of us to do two or three things well with
vitality and joy than ten things half-heartedly and with growing
resentment.

But how do I know what I should give my YES to?

Well that’s where the time away from the crowd comes in.
Repentance, rest, quietness, trust. Discerning where your particular
gifts and responsibilities lie; where you can best serve God’s
purposes. It’ll look different for each one of us. And it’ll look
different at different stages of our lives. But all of us need to
discern what we’re called to say YES to, so we’re able to say a life-
preserving NO when we need to.

I heard a wonderful reading many years ago at an ordination and I
think it’s worth sharing this evening. It’s from the Methodist Church
in Singapore and’s entitled ‘Called to Something Smaller’. It’s
addressed to the ordinand, but it has a word for the whole
congregation.

And it reminds us all that a pastor’s primary call isn’t
to become CEO of the local congregation. Leadership is the shared
task of the Kirk Session. The pastor’s call is to say a YES to the
particular tasks of ministry for which he or she has been set apart,
and then a gentle NO to everything  else which might detract from

that calling.

The liturgy says:

Tonight, in your ordination, you aren’t been called to ministry;
That happened at your baptism

You aren’t being called to be a caring person;
You’re already called to that.

You aren’t being called to serve the Church in committees, activities
and organisations;

That’s already implied in your membership.

You aren’t being called to become involved in social issues, ecology,
race, politics, revolution;
For that is laid upon every Christian.

You are being called to this charge, for something smaller and less
spectacular.

To read and interpret the sacred stories of our community, so that
they speak a word to people today.

To remember and practice those rituals and rites of meaning that in
their poetry address people at the level where change happens.

To foster in community, through word and sacrament, that
encounter with truth which will set men and women free to minister
as the body of Christ.

Ministry has always been the work of the whole people of God.

Ministers are simply those called to prepare the people of God for
the task.

To minister in Christ’s church in whatever capacity, is both a great
privilege and a significant responsibility. It will often ask more of us
that we feel able to give.

So may God help us remember that “In repentance and rest is our
salvation; in quietness and trust is our strength”.