bengilmourpreach

[bengilmourpreach]

Season of Creation - John 15:1-8 and Ps 148

Preached at Leigh Memorial (PCUC) September 2024

Today, as we gather in this Season of Creation, we reflect on our place within God’s good creation and the deep communion to which we are called—communion with God, with one another, and with creation itself. In John 15:1-8, we hear Jesus say, “I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me, you can do nothing.” And in Psalm 148, we witness all of creation—sun, moon, creatures of the deep, trees, wild animals, insects, and birds—offering their praise to God. These passages provide us with an abiding image of Christ as the true vine, the logos of creation made flesh, and a reminder that all creation, including humanity, shares in kinship through the act of offering praise to it’s creator.

The call to abide in Christ as the source of life and fruitfulness is a call to a communion that transcends individualism. It extends beyond personal belonging or even belonging to a church, encompassing the flourishing of all God’s creation. Just as a branch is part of something larger, connected to the vine and sustained by the soil, we, too, are woven into the fabric of creation—dependent on and interconnected. Christ, the incarnate one who unites divinity with creation, brings healing, justice, and peace not only to humanity but to all that God has made.

Yet, when we look at the world today, creation seems to be groaning rather than praising. We are faced with undeniable evidence of environmental damage caused by human actions. Living in a strongly individualistic Western culture, we have often placed ourselves and our desires for success and significance above creation, not with creation, distorting our God-given role of stewardship into one of domination and exploitation. The foundational narrative in Genesis 1:28, where God charges Adam and Eve to "be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it," this text, has justified religiously a trajectory that is now causing much harm to God’s creation. The Hebrew word "kavash," translated as "subdue," conveys control, sometimes with force, but I wonder if the ancient biblical writes could have predicted how such a text could justify the ruthless domination and exploitation of the earth we experience today. In pre-modern times, humans coexisted and struggled in a beautiful and yet wild natural environment. They recognised God’s abundant provision, but nature had its own agency and witness to praise God. Today, with nearly eight billion people on the planet, the balance has been disrupted. Instead of living with the creation, caring for the earth, and living with the environment, we as a global people, a species,  have exploited it, aided by the forces of industrialisation, technology, and an unsustainable ideology of limitless consumption and growth.

The consequences are alarming. A 2019 intergovernmental report found that human activity has severely altered 75 percent of terrestrial environments and 66 percent of marine environments. The productivity of soils has diminished by 23 percent globally, nearly 400 million tons of toxic waste are dumped into our oceans annually, and we are polluting even the deepest parts of the ocean with microplastics. We have driven countless species to extinction and pushed many more to the brink. What was meant to be a relationship of care has become one of devalued extraction and disregard.

As Christians, we are called to recognise that this crisis is not only environmental but also a matter of justice and faith. The poorest and most vulnerable—those who contribute the least to the crisis—are suffering the most. In the Pacific, rising seas are threatening whole countries like Tvalo, failing crops in Australia, higher frequency of floods or droughts, and extreme weather events continue to be devastating communities. While those of us in wealthier nations enjoy the fruits of abundance, others are deprived of basic needs like clean water, healthy food, and shelter from the impacts of climate change.

What have we gained from this unsustainable lifestyle? We in Australia have benefited from higher living standards, a rating of the second highest median wages after Luxemburg and rising in the top 1-3 globally for longevity of age, but at what cost to others and to creation itself?

New research from the UNSW Australian Climate Accountability Project has revealed Australia is the second-largest climate polluter when calculated by total carbon emissions from its massive fossil fuel exports, coal and gas – beaten only by Russia, but ahead of every OPEC country and the United States.

“Australia’s own fossil fuel exports are doubling back on us and making devastating events like the 2022 Lismore and NSW floods, and the Black Summer bushfires, more likely to happen, more often and more severely,” said Australian Climate Accountability Project lead Professor Gillian Moon.

Many of us are not naive to the reality of this. I am aware that many of us do our part; we recycle, and our consumptive choices are transitioning to electric cars and using renewable energy; we are also keen to minimise consumption to our needs and not just our wants, which is good. This reflection is not to create personal guilt, as this is a systemic and global issue in which our individual agency, while helpful, is less than a drop in the bucket of water. If Paul was writing, it is a matter of the principalities and powers of our age. Systemic change, stronger regulations and environmental standards, and environmental, and ethical business practices policies make significant changes, and to date, it has not been enough.

The UN Secretary-General António Guterres warns of "far-reaching consequences" from our structural unsustainable practices. Crops are failing, clean water is becoming scarce, and natural systems are collapsing. Climate change intensifies all of these threats, deepening the injustices faced by the marginalised and compounding the suffering of the poor of humans and non-human creatures alike.

Eco-theologians remind us that the Gospel calls us into communion with all creation. Sallie McFague asks, “What would it mean to see the world as the body of God? To see matter, earth, and all living beings as bearers of divine presence?” Pope Francis, in Laudato Si' care of creation, challenges us to remember that we are made from the dust of the earth, that we breathe its air, and that we receive life from its waters. Jurgen Moltmann also speaks of the interconnection between creation and covenant: without creation, the covenant would not be fulfilled; without the covenant, creation would not exist.

The image of being grafted to the vine, calls us to live in communion, not domination, with Christ, with God and creation. Christ, the new Adam, came not only to restore humanity but to reconcile all creation with God. This healing work is at hand, and we are invited to participate as branches grafted into the vine of Christ. To abide in Christ is to recognise our deep dependence on the earth and to act as stewards of God’s creation. Some theologians suggest that the Church might act like the immune system of the body, caring for the health of the whole creation with targeted actions. Some are even willing to be arrested, confronting governments and large fossil fuel expansion projects with civil disobedience.

But where do we begin? The enormity of the climate crisis can feel overwhelming, but we are not called to despair. Rather, we are called to deeper reflection and action—to love others and make wise decisions based on the truth that creation is revealing. This begins with acknowledging the earth's finiteness and fragility, continues with honest conversation, and may require our conversion, and a conversion that becomes a movement that changes worldviews of creation, humanity and our relationship with it all.

The story of St. Francis of Assisi offers a powerful illustration of what such a conversion might look like. Born into a wealthy family in Italy, Francis lived a life of luxury and ambition, seeking fame and fortune. Yet, his life took a dramatic turn when he encountered a leper on the road. Instead of recoiling in disgust, Francis was moved by compassion, embracing the leper and, in doing so, experiencing the face of God in this outcast. This moment shattered his previous worldview, opening his heart to a new understanding of life.

His conversion deepened further when, while praying in a dilapidated chapel, Francis heard the voice of Christ say, “Francis, rebuild my church.” At first, he interpreted this literally, believing he was called to physically restore the crumbling chapel. However, over time, Francis realised that the call was far deeper—it was a call to restore the entire creation, broken by greed and exploitation.

From that point on, Francis renounced his wealth and embraced a life of radical poverty. He saw creation not as something to be dominated but as his true family. He referred to the sun as his brother, the moon as his sister, and the earth as his mother. He lived in profound harmony with the natural world, seeing the divine in every living thing and praising God for the beauty of creation.

In Francis, we see the truth of John 15: abiding in Christ means abiding in a communion that includes all of creation. He understood that fruitfulness comes not from exploitation but from living in harmony with God’s world. His life is a witness to the transformative power of communion with God and creation. Franciscans are a global monastic order, including the current Pope, who refuses to live in the people's palace but in a servant's accommodation and embraces a simple way of living.

Like Franciscans seek to live, we protestants are invited to undergo a conversion of hearts, critiquing the constant work ethic, and embrace communion with God and a Creation ethic. When creation is groaning under the weight of human activity, we are called to return to the source of life, abide in Christ, the true vine, and rediscover our kinship with all creation. The truth is that we are not separate from the world around us; we are deeply dependent on the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the ecosystems that sustain our lives. Creation is our sustenance and our home.

This is not just a matter of survival; it is a matter of love. To abide in Christ is to be drawn into the wonder and awe of God’s good creation and to recognise that we are called to participate in its healing and redemption. Christ, the new Adam, the human-divine one, is at the center of this transformation. His life, death, and resurrection are for the salvation of humanity and the restoration of all creation.

In Christ, we are grafted into this new creation, a creation that is being redeemed and renewed. This is the work of God in the world—to heal what is broken, to bring life where there is death, to restore what has been lost. And we are invited to participate in this work, not as masters over creation, but as co-creators and partners, as stewards of the earth’s gifts, as caretakers of the life that God has so lovingly brought into being.

Dare we commit ourselves anew to this calling as a people of God? Let us be mindful of the interconnectedness of all life and of our responsibility to care for the earth, for each other, and for future generations. Can we individually and collectively act with courage grounded in hope and trust in God’s ability to bring about transformation through all of us?

In this Season of Creation, let us bear fruit that brings life to all.

Amen.

[bengilmourpreach]

Reflection/Sermon on John 6

Preached at Castle Hill Uniting Church September 2024

It is remarkable that every week, across this vast land and across the planet, the church gathers to do something remarkable: we reflect on ancient texts, seeking wisdom that speaks to our current lives and communities. In an age saturated with information—from ancient myths and philosophies to modern media—people like you and me gather in towns and cities, seeking to understand God's wisdom. We connect these ancient words with our traditions, reason, and experience to discern God’s way in Christ as good news for our souls and, more than that, for all creation.

Why is this remarkable? Because, like you, I am filled with doubts, fears, and questions, my soul is not pure and free. In a world where chaos, domination of nation-states and cooperations, and conflicted and competitive individual agendas often reign, I, too, seek a saviour—a healer—someone who can speak wholeness, peace, and healing into our souls, the very core of this lived life. I long for relief from all that causes dis-ease, hoping to find healing and balm for our world, creation, and souls. I yearn for someone who can transform us from merely reacting to this chaotic world to finding the peace, the shalom of God that comes to us in Christ.

Life is not without its challenges. Some in our community struggle with the rising cost of living and crippling debt, while others silently suffer from various forms of dis-ease and mental anguish. The turmoil in global politics and war disturbs us, and the growing disparity between the haves and have-nots in our own country can leave us feeling shaken and uncertain. These challenges are often exacerbated by systemic issues that are indifferent to how hard one works. Even within our own church, we wrestle with decisions and proposals that challenge us—whether it’s ACT 2, Presbytery projects, or the growth and sustainability of our congregations. Confronting these challenges—whether physical, emotional, or spiritual—reminds us of life's fragility and resilience.

In these times, our churches become sanctuaries where we seek to make sense of it all, hoping to encounter Christ's presence, who shows us the way of peace and life, as a gift for our souls. Yet, we must also recognise the temptation for ourselves and our faith communities to lose their way, becoming co-opted by native self-sufficiency or political agendas, whether hyper-individualist, socially conservative, or progressive reactionary politics. Sometimes, life pushes those buttons, and we want to speak and get angry and act, thinking we are on the side of ‘right’ rather than listening and engaging in God’s good ways for us. While it is important for the church to engage with the world around us as a sharing in Christ’s mission, we must be vigilant not to let unrealistic views of self-perfection, dominant political narratives, and their binary reactions swallow our identity in Christ as children of creation, children of a Creator who calls us into a deep, transformative relationship with God. At the heart of our witness stands Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus the Christ. And so, we turn our ears, our hearts, and our minds to truly hear and see.

In today's Gospel reading from Mark, we encounter a pivotal moment where Jesus confronts the Pharisees and scribes on an issue that seems, at first glance, to be about physical cleanliness. The religious leaders question why Jesus' disciples do not follow the tradition of washing their hands before eating, a practice rooted in the purity laws of their time. In response, Jesus challenges them with a profound question: "Why do you abandon the commandment of God and hold to human tradition?" (Mark 7:8).

Jesus goes on to explain that it is not what goes into a person from the outside that defiles them, but what comes out from within, from the heart: "For it is from within, from the human heart, that evil intentions come" (Mark 7:21).

This statement invites us into a deeper reflection on the nature of true righteousness, or being in God’s wholeness. Contemporary biblical scholarship often highlights how Jesus’ teachings shift the focus from external observances to the condition of the heart or the inner life—what we might call the soul. Biblical scholar Joel Marcus notes that Jesus is redefining the boundaries of purity and impurity, suggesting that moral and spiritual defilement is an internal issue, not something that can be managed merely through external practices. Our reading from James, takes this one step further, reminding us, our outer expressions should reflect the motivations of God in Christ in action.

This challenges us to consider how our soul—our inner life, thoughts, intentions, and desires, shaped by our personalities and formative experiences—can define or defile us. The Pharisees' focus on ritual purity lost sight of the more significant ethical and spiritual dimensions of God's commandments, allowing human traditions to overshadow the deeper call to justice, mercy, and love as reflected in the Law of the Scriptures.

As we delve deeper into Jesus' teachings, we may encounter a tension between different understandings of the inner life. Augustine of Hippo, one of the most influential theologians in Christian history, argued that our inner life is defiled by sin and can only be made whole through God’s grace. In contrast, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, a philosopher of the late modern period, proposed that the inner life is inherently pure, untouched by sin (as it is pure nature), and is the best place from which to critique the real defilements of societal, political, and social systems. This philosophy has gained much adherence in our contemporary culture—the idea that "you be you" is perfect. In this view, the gospel helps you live your best life. But the true gospel reveals that it is God’s gift that transforms us into the likeness of Christ, into who we were created to be as a becoming work of God in us, away from sin.

Jesus's ancient wisdom challenges the modern idea that simply being your authentic self is inherently pure, good and universally true. The inner life requires attention because all kinds of evil can flow from it. While the notion of inherent purity may resonate with some today, we must acknowledge that our true selves, as psychology reminds us, are not formed in isolation but are shaped by society, culture, and the environment—including genetic factors and formative experiences. And that all of this is shaped by sin, that which is not loving, just and true. It isn’t healthy to base our self-making as the foundation of our inner life being pure..

Therefore, matters of the soul are not just about self-expression or authenticity; they are profoundly about our divine/human relationships. It is within these relationships that transformation becomes possible—a transformation that is not self-generated but is a gift of God in the grace of Christ. Confession, then, is not merely an admission of guilt but a prayerful invitation for God to work within us. It is a recognition that the Holy Spirit, the animator of life, there is a deep communion with our human existence, guiding us toward wholeness in God; this is marked every time we celebrate communion.

In this light, the defilement that Jesus speaks of is not merely a matter of external actions but is deeply rooted in the condition of our hearts—hearts that are formed by and can be reformed through our relationship with God. The transformative power of Christ’s love and grace calls us to examine our inner lives, not in isolation but in the context of our relationships with others and with God.

As we reflect on today's readings, let us remember that the true matters of the soul involve this dynamic interaction between the divine and the human, where transformation and renewal are always possible through God's grace. This is the ministry of Christ. Now for you and me, a deep wisdom we need to be reminded of time and time again, why, because the God of Love, is doing a becoming work of God’s love in us.

So then, what might defile us from this becoming work of God’s love? There are biases, often hidden and unexamined, that corrupt our soul—our inner life—without us even realizing it, needing the light of Christ. How do these biases of the soul corrupt our behaviors with others? Biases, like Jesus' critique of the religious leaders' adherence to tradition over love, can subtly shape our actions and attitudes in ways that distance us from God’s true call of love, peace and justice. Unexamined, these biases can lead us to justify harmful behaviours, uphold unjust systems, and even distort our understanding of what it means to follow Christ and to use Jesus' words; these defile us.

Take, for example, the bias that might cause us to dismiss the struggles of others as due to their own failings, rather than acknowledging the systemic issues at play. Or the bias that leads us to favour those who are like us while ignoring or devaluing those who are different or think differently. These biases, deeply embedded in our societal and cultural frameworks, can defile us from within, leading us away from the radical love and justice that Jesus calls us to embody.

Let me share with you a story that illustrates this journey of faith for Clare.

Not far from here, a woman named Clare lived in a suburb of Western Sydney. Clare was a loving mother and caring grandmother, respected in her community and church for her can-do attitude and kindness. However, over the years, her relationships with her daughter, Sarah, and her granddaughter, Lily, had become strained.

One Sunday, after a particularly challenging sermon on humility and being attentive to one's soul—one's inner life—Clare felt compelled to examine her own heart. She realized that she had often dismissed Sarah's struggles as a working single mother, attributing her challenges to a lack of effort or organization. Similarly, she underestimated Lily's opinions, considering her too young to understand the complexities of life. More than that, Clare began to see that she felt ashamed that her daughter's relationship with her ex-husband didn’t work out and believed Sarah could have done more.

Clare began to see how her biases had clouded her judgment and prevented her from simply listening and seeing Sarah as Christ saw her—with deep, compassionate love. She noticed that showing true compassion to those closest to her was hard, and there were things holding her back. She prayed for guidance and decided it was time to seek reconciliation.

The next week, Clare invited Sarah and Lily over for dinner. As they sat around the kitchen table, Clare confessed her shortcomings, admitting that she had not fully understood or appreciated their experiences. She asked for their forgiveness and expressed her desire to learn from them and support them better.

This honest conversation marked the beginning of a new chapter in their relationship. Clare's home, once a place of unspoken tensions, now fosters more understanding and honest conversation with love. Through this journey, Clare experienced something of Christ’s reconciliation at work in her, a gift within her soul—a willingness to admit her faults and biases rather than holding rigidly to expectations of a so called “tough love.”

Clare's story reminds us that the journey of faith is not about achieving outward perfection or living one's best, perfect life with the best habits and practices. Rather, it is about continually seeking to open our hearts and actions to the love and justice of God in Christ in us. Some call this faith based reflection-action-reflection or living with deep contemplative prayer. We see this way of life, love, and justice clearly in Jesus Christ. As James reminds us, it is about being doers of the word, allowing our faith to shape our lives in ways that bring healing and wholeness to ourselves, our relationships, and our communities.

The truth is, we need Christ, the Christian community, and each other to see our biases and examine the defilements of our own hearts. Including me. What biases might we/you be holding onto that are preventing us/you from being transformed into a soul reflecting God’s love, peace, and justice? How might we, like the religious leaders Jesus challenges, be clinging to traditions or ways of thinking that need to be re-examined in light of this Gospel?

Ok, it is important for me to name some of by basis, and how the wisdom of Christ challenges me

Amy-Jill Levine, a prominent Jewish New Testament scholar, critiques the way Christians often portray Pharisees, arguing that such portrayals can be misleading and contribute to harmful stereotypes. Pharisees are frequently misrepresented in Christian teachings as legalistic, hypocritical, and rigid. This portrayal contrasts sharply with historical evidence, which shows that the Pharisees were a diverse group within Judaism, known for their emphasis on ethical behaviour, interpretation of the Torah, and their focus on making the laws of the Torah accessible to ordinary people. Transformation of our minds in Christ begins with the recognition that all people are created in the image of God and work in progress—far from perfect or pure, but more complex, with much good, and if we are honest, not that different to ourselves. I have written whole groups (like previous denominations I was a part of) of as being like Pharisees. I confess this so that my soul may be transformed by the love of God in Christ.

Just as Amy-Jill Levine critiques the misrepresentation of Pharisees, it's important to move beyond stereotypes of neurodiverse individuals as rigid or legalistic. This reframing can foster a more inclusive environment where diversity is celebrated rather than misunderstood. For example, someone with autism might adhere closely to rules or routines, not out of legalism or stubborn, judgemental inflexibility, but because these frameworks help them navigate a world that often feels overwhelming or chaotic.

I confess that I have struggled in the past with this, as my father had a late adult life diagnosis of Autism (he is ok about me sharing this; we are in a good space), but I judged my father without knowing how much God loves him and acknowledging the way he navigates life is just different, not wrong. Here, we both share a deep faith and have, in our own ways, been captured by the love of God, be it expressed differently at times.

The challenge for us today is to heed Jesus’ words and turn our attention to the motivators of our inner lives—the thoughts, attitudes, and intentions that shape our actions. It is much more complex than self correcting this to wholeness, as we all have biases and blindspots, we cant see things with the mind and heart of God, we can only discern this in Christ. We are invited to bring our biases into the light of Christ and the safety of trusted relationships in Christian community, and family, allowing God’s grace to transform us. Only then can we truly live as doers of the Gospel.

As we reflect on today's readings, let us commit to examining our hearts, embracing the soulfulness of this embodied reflective doing life, confronting our biases, and seeking Christ’s death and resurrection transformation of our very beings, so that we may be born anew with love in all our interactions with others. May we be doers of the word, living out our faith in ways that bring healing, reconciliation, and peace to our world. And may we embrace the transformative power of Christ's love, allowing it to shape us into a community that reflects God's justice, mercy, and grace with all. It is here the father of lights, the giver of every good and perfect gift is glorified in and through as as Children of God.

In the Uniting Church's Basis of Union, it affirms that we belong to the people of God on the way to the promised end. It encourages us to pray that, through the gift of the Spirit, God will constantly correct that which is erroneous in our life, bring us into deeper unity so that our worship, witness, and service will seek to reveal God's eternal glory through Jesus Christ, now, this day and forever. Amen.

[bengilmourpreach]

Reflection/Sermon on John 6:1-21

Preached at Graystains Uniting Church in July 2024

The global church does something remarkable each week: it gathers to reflect on ancient texts of faith, seeking wisdom for our time and place. In an age overflowing with information—from ancient myths to modern media—every Sunday, someone like you or me stands up in towns across this vast continent, striving to share the wisdom of God from these ancient texts, in dialogue with tradition, reason, and experience.

Why is this remarkable? Because I am a human being, just like you, filled with doubts, fears, and questions. Like in today’s Gospel, I am still seeking a saviour, a healer, someone who can calm our fears and provides for our deepest needs, someone to mend this chaotic world and the chaotic place of me in it all. I long for relief from all that causes dis-ease, hoping to find healing and balm for our world, creation, and souls.

This last few weeks have been challenging for many, some in our community a really struggling with the cost of living and crippeling debt, others are silently suffering from all manner of dis ease and mental anguish. We were shocked by the attempted assassination in the U.S. the stepping aside of the US president and all the drama of American Politics, and here at home, union wars and corruption shake our political landscape. Our Uniting Church Assembly wrestles with the Act 2 proposals, seeking to be a church fit for purpose. Many of us have been battling colds and flu, reminding us of the fragility and resilience of human life.

In such times, churches become places where we seek to make sense of it all. That presence of Christ that calms the storms and feeds the hungry. However, some faith communities have lost their way, co-opting either a socially conservative or social progressive agenda, being swayed by politics to pander to our fears and foster our biases. While the church must engage with local politics for the common good, the challenge is not to lose our identity to the dominant or reactionary political narratives. At the centre of the church's witness stands Jesus of Nazareth, Jesus the Christ. And so we turn our ears, our hearts, and our minds so that we may truly hear and see…

How do we navigate this? It is why we tell and re tell the gospel narratives, the stories of Jesus, to focus on Christ’s presence, life, way, words and actions. The U.S.  and to a lesser extent in Australia, we continues to struggle with a binary divide between liberals and conservatives, spilling into theological colleges and churches. Often, people seek Jesus to support their agendas rather than for healing, peace, providence and restoration. In the West, Christianity has sometimes morphed into Moral Therapeutic Deism, where faith is more about reinforcing cultural norms and treating personal discomforts rather than truly encountering God and forming deep relationships with God, each other, and all creation.

As a minister of the word, I share a conviction about a faith in Christ as an encounter with the transcendent one of heaven and earth meeting together, a Christ that is bringing true peace, transforming us beyond our biases to find communion with God and each other. This encounter with God isn’t finished; it continually transforms us into the likeness of Christ, embodying justice, grace, peace, and reconciliation. We are called into relationships with ourselves, each other, our community, creation, and God.

We are entering an era where many have little or no connection to Christian faith and church. Narratives of individual salvation of one’s personal moral failures doesn’t resonate with younger generations as it had previous generations, and when it doesn’t, unless in a reactionary way always lead to becoming part of a local community of Christ, a church… And yet, according to NCLS research, 25% of Australians would be warm to attending church if asked, and another 25% are open to the conversation. Also the personal prosperity narratives of Churches in the name of Christ is been critiqued in its inability to see the environmental and social challenges of our time (in the US, UK and Australia). Instead, they seek authenticity and depth of a salvation that is good news for all creation and peoples, A Jesus that isn’t an individual crux, but a Jesus who is God incarnate, for all creation. The Uniting Church, alongside other churches, sees salvation in the biblical witness as both personal and about the reconciliation and renewal of all creation, inviting us to participate in God’s mission.

Our commitment to First Nations, the environment, and honouring the whole person made in God’s image—regardless of gender, ethnicity, or status—is often labelled as "woke" by conservatives. Yet, it is a faithful response to the Gospel's call of the one who calms our fears, and provides food for all who are hungry, regardless of even the disciples ability to pay.

The witness of the gospel is also speaking a different word to liberal Christians as they move into a post-liberal place, seeking to not limit faith and God to individual libertarianism as the final trajectory and goal of faith. The reality is evangelicals, conservatives, liberals, mainstreamers are also doing some soul-searching to hear the Good news of Christ again, beyond our own political and tribal biases. Professor Young (at fuller in the USA) in his book the Hope of the Gospel writing form an evangelical perspective, Our history is the foundation that creates both the limitations and possibilities of evangelicalism. Unfortunately, we tend to make two crippling errors in relation to our history. First, we are woefully ignorant of it. We are shaped by a history we do not know in ways we cannot detect. Second, we mistake nostalgia for historical awareness. Many in our movement long to go back and recover the simple faith and way of life they want to believe existed in our past. But nostalgia is not a Christian virtue. Hope is. Evangelical theology calls us to long for the future God has promised, not the past. That promised future far exceeds any romanticized notion of our past and any vision of its idealized restoration.

The better we know our history, the more we may be able to strip away what we want our past to have been and see ourselves as we actually were. A distorted view of our past gives us license to justify a distorted view of our identity and mission in the present. But a fiercely courageous and steely-eyed gaze into our history grounds our understanding of the present in reality. The better we know our history, the more we will be able to help shape our movement into the beautiful, hope-filled, gospel-centered presence that the world yearns for but doesn’t know where to find.

Both for the evangelical and reformed, liberal and protestant churches, we are becoming aware of how our idealised biases are distorting the ministry and mission of Christ in our times. All people of faith are called to encounter Jesus presence, life, teachings and works afresh in our time and contexts.

Biblical Exegesis and Historical Insights

In John 6:1-21, we witness two significant acts of Jesus' ministry: the feeding of the five thousand and Jesus walking on water. These passages offer deep insight into Jesus' mission and character. Through these narratives and miracles, Jesus transcends the boundaries and biases we all have, challenging our materialist rational minds. He invites us to encounter God's transcendence in Christ, leading to transformation within us all.

In John 6:1-14, Jesus performs the miracle of feeding the five thousand. The crowd follows Jesus because they have seen the signs He has performed on the sick. Jesus, seeing the large crowd, challenges His disciples by asking where they can buy bread for the people. Philip responds that even six months' wages would not be enough to buy bread for each person to have a little. Andrew points out a boy with five barley loaves and two fish, but doubts that this small amount can feed so many. Jesus takes the loaves, gives thanks, and distributes them to the people. Everyone eats as much as they want, and twelve baskets of leftovers are collected. This miracle reveals Jesus' compassion and ability to provide abundantly, surpassing human limitations.

In John 6:15-21, after the miracle of feeding the five thousand, Jesus perceives that the crowd wants to make Him king by force. He withdraws to a mountain by Himself. The disciples set off across the sea to Capernaum without Jesus. As they row, a strong wind blows, and the sea becomes rough. They see Jesus walking on the sea and are terrified. Jesus reassures them, saying, "It is I; do not be afraid." They then willingly take Him into the boat, and immediately the boat reaches the shore where they are heading. This account highlights Jesus' divine/creation relationship with nature and His ability to calm the fears of His disciples as well as the storms of the sea (and of life). It also shows us that Jesus will never collude with our political desires, let alone our political tribal affiliations. Jesus brings a peace that is beyond any such divisive human pursuits.

The Gospel of John, written later than the Synoptic Gospels, emphasizes the divinity of Christ and His role as the Son of God, the logos of God and the call into communion with God in Christ. John's audience, likely facing internal and external challenges, would find assurance in these signs of Jesus' transcending miracles and His presence with them.

The historical context of Roman occupation adds another layer to our understanding. The people's desire to make Jesus king reflects their longing for a leader to deliver them from oppression. However, Jesus resists this political role of colluding with finite political power, focusing instead on our relationship with the creator of all that was and is and is to be. His actions challenge the expectations of His followers and reveal a different kind of kingship grounded in love, service and sacrifice.

Story of Clare – Let me tell a story of how our one can move beyond our basis to encounter Christ’s peace and share Christ’s compassion.

In a western Sydney suburb, there lived a woman named Clare, a loving mother and caring grandmother. Clare was deeply respected in her community and her church for her wisdom, kindness, and can-do attitude. She had always prided herself on being fair and compassionate, believing that her faith guided her interactions with everyone around her. However, her relationships with her daughter, Sarah, and her granddaughter, Lily, had become strained over the years.

One Sunday, after a particularly challenging reflection on how true humility comes with self-reflection, Clare asked the minister where she could learn more about how unconscious biases can cause harm and misunderstanding. The minister encouraged her to take some pastoral care courses at UME and UTC and attend some sessions of the Uniting Church's Soul Care conference in September. Clare signed up for Soul Care, where the presenter spoke about how biases are formed and how they can subtly influence our actions, often without us realizing it. She emphasized that even the most well-intentioned individuals could fall prey to these biases and recognizing them was the first step toward true compassion—the kind of compassion we see in Jesus Christ.

Clare listened intently, feeling a stirring in her heart. As part of the reflection, the presenter asked the participants to reflect on their interactions with their loved ones and to identify any patterns of bias. Clare began to realize that she had often dismissed Sarah’s struggles as a working single mother, attributing her challenges to a lack of effort or organization. She also realized she carried biases deep down, including shame and disappointment about her daughter's broken relationship with her former husband. Similarly, she had underestimated Lily’s opinions, considering her too young to understand the complexities of life.

That evening, Clare prayed for guidance and clarity. She felt a deep sense of conviction, recognizing that her biases had clouded her judgment and prevented her from showing true compassion to those closest to her. She decided it was time to seek reconciliation and healing, beginning with a heartfelt confession.

The next day, Clare invited Sarah and Lily over for dinner. As they sat around the kitchen table, Clare took a deep breath and spoke from her heart, albeit a little clumsily. "I want to confess my shortcomings," she said, admitting that she had not fully understood or appreciated their experiences. She asked for their forgiveness and expressed her desire to learn from them and support them better.

Sarah, taken aback by her mother's posture, also felt a wave of relief. She shared the challenges she faced balancing work and motherhood and how much she longed for a little more of her mother's understanding. Clare listened attentively, realizing how her biases had prevented her from seeing and hearing Sarah’s real needs, as well as her resilience and dedication.

Lily, too, opened up to her grandmother, sharing her dreams and aspirations. Clare was surprised by her granddaughter’s insight, intelligence, and maturity. She apologized for not valuing Lily’s perspective and promised to be more open and supportive. Lily interrupted Clare, saying, "If I am honest, Nana, I am a lot like you too. My biases about you and your generation—that you have no idea what it's like for us—I need to let those go too." Lily and Clare hugged each other.

Clare’s confession marked the beginning of a different direction in their relationship. She sought her daughter’s and granddaughter’s help to actively speak up if they see her biases are unhelpful or blinding honest dialogue. Clare said that her faith, while taking small steps, is helping her to embrace the compassion and love Christ has for all and that as a follower of Jesus, she wants to do better at real compassion and real peace. She joined a church group dedicated to promoting inclusivity and compassion in the community, where she could learn and grow alongside others committed to the same path of discipleship. Clare began to make new friends with a recent migrant family through one of these church groups and felt that this relationship was a real blessing.

In the weeks that followed, Clare’s relationships with Sarah and Lily blossomed with deeper understanding and wholeness. They spent more time together, engaging in deep conversations and sharing their lives with a greater openness. Clare’s home, once a place of unspoken tensions, became more of a haven of understanding and love.

Through this journey, Clare learned that true compassion and peace requires ongoing self-reflection and a willingness to admit one’s faults—not to hide them in shame and fear, but to share them, so as to learn and grow with those dear to her. That the sharing of these things, can be transformed into blessing of deeper relationships. Clare still had her moments with her daughter and granddaughter—old habits are hard to break—but her faith in Christ taught her that confession, bringing to the light and repentance, orienting to a greater truth and love,  were not just acts of false humility that silence or let one off the hook. Rather, they are powerful steps in the journey toward compassion, healing, and peace that need to be practiced. By embracing this way of life, Clare not only found restoration and deeper honesty in her relationships but also became a witness to this compassion and peace in her engagements in the wider community.

Her story became a testament to the Spirit of Christ that can transcend our biases, transform our relationships, and restore us back into communion with each other, inspired by the unwavering peace that calms all fears and storms and feeds our deepest needs in Jesus Christ.

Call to Action

As we reflect on today's Gospel and Clare's story, and the divisive politics of our times, let us commit to examining our biases and seeking true compassion, reconciliation and peace in our interactions. Let us be communities of faith that transcend divisions, promoting healing and reconciliation in our world. May we embrace the transformative power of Christ's peace and compassion that feeds the hungry and calms our fears, striving to embody this love in all our relationships. Let us pray for the courage to confess our shortcomings, seek forgiveness, and work towards genuine reconciliation and renewal.

In our Basis of Union, it concludes saying; The Uniting Church affirms that it belongs to the people of God on the way to the promised end. The Uniting Church prays that, through the gift of the Spirit, God will constantly correct that which is erroneous in its life, will bring it into deeper unity with other Churches, and will use its worship, witness and service to God's eternal glory through Jesus Christ the Lord. Amen.