In the portion of Mark’s Gospel that we read at our recent Joint Communion Service, we found Jesus surrounded by his disciples and curious followers, but his attention is drawn to the shouts of a blind man who recognises a special power and presence near him. In his sermon Eddie Sykes commented:

The others want to silence Bartimaeus, but Jesus calls him to draw near, and asks, “What do want me to do for you?” Consistent with the high priest image in Hebrews, we too discover that Jesus can do something for us. This is not a “I want a million pounds” kind of request; it is more a “Jesus, please help me to follow you more faithfully”, or “Jesus, help me to understand what you want to do with my life” type of request.

Do we see Jesus able to use us in whatever situation we are in?

Some people hide behind busy schedules or justifications of their own creation as excuses for only living what might be termed ‘half-lives’.

Sometimes we really do not want the freedom to serve God openly because what lies ahead is unknown. Bartimaeus gives us inspiration and courage for the changed outlook that such a kind of freedom requires.

It’s not so much that we’re afraid of change or so in love with the old ways, but it’s that place in between that we fear … it’s like being between trapezes. There’s nothing to hold on to.” (Marilyn Ferguson)

You can read the whole of Eddie’s sermon at this link.

The illustration of “Lord, that I might see!”, a 1970 sculpture in Matyas Church, Budapest, comes from “Art in the Christian Tradition”, a project of the Vanderbilt Divinity Library, Nashville.

Pilgrimage is much on our minds: the Climate Justice pilgrimages are reaching their destination; Episcopal friends recently walked some of the Fife Pilgrim Way to St Andrews; Saturday’s West Fife Area mini-gathering has pilgrimage as one of its themes. On Tuesday, our friend Liz Crumlish took this picture near St Ninian’s Cave near where her diocese is having a retreat with pilgrimage as a theme, and yesterday she wrote this in her blog:

All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. (Hebrews 11:13-14)

In the pilgrim’s backpack..
are not just the essentials of travel…
Like water
and a snack
spare socks
lip balm
and first aid supplies

In the pilgrim’s backpack..
is also the community from whence they came
those they have left behind
the ones they like to hang out with
and the ones they avoid
those who bring them joy
and those who drink deeply
from the well of another’s compassion
and test their tolerance

They all find a way to cram themselves in
a bit like the cloud of witnesses
who jostle around the altar
every time bread is blessed and broken

The whole community gathers
carried by the pilgrim
bidden or unbidden

And, as prayer is offered
all are gathered up
into God’s embrace
for God, too, is a pilgrim.

It was wonderful to be able to share in our Harvest Festival service on 26 September – the first time that our Local Ecumenical Partnership has worshipped together for over 18 months! Our service was led by the Rev Eddie Sykes, who had adapted a special liturgy from the Iona Abbey Worship Book and the 2021 Abingdon Worship Annual so that we could really focus on the meaning of harvest as well as enjoying singing some traditional seasonal hymns. The prayer that followed the sermon reflected on the Gospel reading (Matthew 6:25–33):

Look at the birds of the air.
They fly free of our worries:
no fields to weed and harvest,
no barns to fill.
And yet God feeds them.

Consider the lilies of the field.
They grow free of our worries:
no clothing to buy, no shoes to match.
And yet God clothes them in splendour.

So do not worry. Do not fear.
God knows our needs.
We will eat in plenty!
We will be satisfied!
Rejoice! God looks after our needs.

You can read all the prayers Eddie used at this link.

Photo by Marty Southwell on Unsplash.

The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. (John 3:8)

Spirit of God
Intriguing
Elusive
Capricious
Eternally present
Before the birth of time
Not an afterthought
Not the latest iteration
But an integral part
of the eternal dance of the Trinity.
Creator
Redeemer
Sustainer
She was there moving over the water
at the birth of time
she was there in the hopes and fears of a people
who longed for a Messiah
She was there in the garden
when the warmth of resurrection
rekindled love
All three woven together
moving in synchronicity
Sometimes to the mellow strains
of a slow waltz
Sometimes to the whirling upbeat
of a ceilidh dance
At times she takes the lead
selecting the beat
changing up the rhythm
And then she sets the stage for another
to be front and centre
For the dance cannot be accomplished
without all three parts participating
in the divine choreography
And new parts are always being written
so that we, too, might participate
even in our clod hoppers
by taking our place on the floor
and simply beginning to move
to that persistent beat
that draws us into the Divine dance

This thought for Trinity Sunday comes from our friend Liz Crumlish: more on her blog.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words.   (Romans 8:26)

This Pentecost, O God,
We fear the mighty rushing winds
and the tongues of fire that disrupt our careful order
We fear the exuberance of a crowd
getting out of control
and spilling onto the streets
We hold back on celebrations
when not all are able to participate
in our local church world
and in our global world
Send your Spirit once more
to intercede for us
with sighs too deep for words
With sighs that give thanks for life
and sighs that mourn so much death
With sighs that re-story us
as a people of hope
With sighs that re-member us
as a people of faith
And giving thanks for the very breath of life
May we take your life
and your Spirit
into all the world.

Written by Liz Crumlish for Pentecost 2021