A sermon for Trinity Sunday 2016
Proverbs 8:1-4,22-31; Romans 5:1-5; John 16:12-15
I have to make a confession: I’ve fallen – head over heels.
We met through a friend. It was love at first sight, and it promised to be life-changing. He’s really handsome. He has dark brown hair and deep hazelnut eyes. He’s younger than me, playful, and yet he will happily cuddle up on the sofa. Sure, it’ll take time and effort, and no doubt well have our moments, but I’m confident it’ll be worth it. He’s moving in with me next week.
Before I take this too far, though, let me clarify… I’m getting a puppy. A sprocker spaniel called Oswald. You can check back in a few weeks time after I’ve been dealing with 4am wee stops as to whether my rose tinted glasses remain intact!
Now you’re probably wondering already what on earth that has to do with Trinity Sunday.
(Sermon for Easter Sunday dawn service 2016, on John 20:1-8, preached at the Ecumenical Service at the Church of St Mary on the Rock, St Andrews.)
I wonder, have you seen Jesus yet today? I’m not joking; have you seen him? And if not, why aren’t you off looking for him?
Over the last few days, demolition teams have been at work in the so-called Jungle at Calais. Makeshift homes are being dismantled after a French court was persuaded to allow eviction of the people living there in conditions that have been said to be unsafe, unsanitary, and undignified.
So what’s being offered is loads better, right? An allocated mattress in a shipping container, with heat and light, but no communal space, and with the tented home you had worked to pull together bulldozed against your will, right under your nose, is better, is it? Better for whom?
While I was visiting friends this weekend, a few people quizzed me about the mystery life of a curate. We all know ministers work on Sundays, but what about the other six days of the week? You know, all those days off…
A few months ago someone gave me a miniature rose plant. It was very kind of them, and very pretty! Unfortunately though, I’m terrible with plants. Within weeks, the leaves went greyish, brownish and crispy. Dead, in short. I almost threw it out, but I’m also not very tidy, so for weeks it sat in my kitchen looking like dead twigs in a pot.