A Truth called Wonder

Prophets are without honour in their home town. This was Jesus’ experience when he returned to teach in his home town. They could not get past the fact that his father was a carpenter, his brothers and sisters were living amongst them and how could one of their own kind bring anything significantly life altering to them. The traveling preachers usually get the fame and glory whilst the faithful pastor living with his flock is soon regarded as family and found wanting. We love the unusual, expecting the ways of enlightenment to come from outside the familiar. But lets be honest, is it not our closest partner who speaks the greater truth? We love to pick the flowered words of those outside, the guest speaker, the rhetorical giants, and take from them snippets of wisdom to boost our sagging morale. They fix the headache but not the root, the truth lies deeper, the one who knows us knows the cause. The one who loves us, stays with us, covenants with us, abides with us, they are the healers, the truth tellers, the preachers, the wonder workers.

Places of contact

Some days I sit outside and other days I sit indoors. There are times when I walk or run and other times when I am as still as a mouse. Sometimes I love the grandeur of stain-glass and iconography devotedly crafted in deep reverent cathedrals but other times the simplicity of a pine bench, bunch of daisy’s, and a faulty organ make my day. The prompts in the places of my worship are often different. Not one owns the seat of my praise or holds seasons tickets to box me in. It is the Spirit that enfolds them all dear to me. Using all of them to free me to be me in Spirit and in Truth. (John 4 “But the time is coming – it has, in fact, come – when what you’re called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter. It’s who you are and the way you live that count before God.” E. Peterson )