Category: sermon

Isaiah | A vision for the City of Manningham

Isaiah’s vision of the city of joy, shared at the induction of Rev Con Apokis. (Listen here.)

A city of joy, its people a delight: this is what God promises through the prophet Isaiah. It sounds wonderful! So, what are the elements of this joyful city? First, says Isaiah, health and wellbeing. No child will die young; no senior die prematurely (Isaiah 65:20). And we can imagine it. In this city, the air is clean, and the soil and waters, too. There are no coal-fired power stations; no rampaging wildfires; no unprecedented floods. No children or elders are struggling for breath through air yellow with smog; no one is sick from forever chemicals because these are forever banned; no one is collapsing from extreme heat.

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Luke | Resurrection now!

Resurrection life starts today! A little something from the archives, refreshed for a new context. (Listen here.)

If you’re a fan of Bon Iver, perhaps you know he takes his stage name from the greeting shared in the quirky tv show, Northern Exposure. Bon hiver! Good winter! In the show, a young urban Jewish doctor is sent to small town Alaska to pay off his medical tuition. There he encounters all sorts of eccentric inhabitants, including Maggie. Maggie’s a bush pilot whose boyfriends have all died in bizarre ways. Steve was hit by lightning. Harry ate tainted potato salad. Bruce had a fishing accident. Glen took a wrong turn into a missile test range. Dave froze to death on a glacier. Then Rick is killed by a falling satellite: and Maggie is somehow blamed.

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Psalms | Even the hard pathways overflow with abundance

A meditation on rivers and soil and economies of gift and abundance. (Listen here.) For the record, I preached this, said Amen, then there was a great long rumble of rolling thunder followed by beautiful, softening rain. We at MUC took this as the earth’s Amen; you can draw your own conclusions.

Back in the 1800’s, a vast swamp and river basin in Toronto were covered over. The wetlands were buried eight metres deep in dirt and gravel so that the city could expand. In the 1920’s, the river itself was re-routed into a concrete channel, so its path could be fixed and the area even more heavily industrialised. Factories poured their waste into the river; raw sewage was also directed there. The river became so polluted that it was declared dead. On several occasions, it caught on fire.

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Luke | George & Ruby & the long arc of history

Justice takes prayer and persistence. (Listen here.)

Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a war on. Authorities were concerned that power stations might be bombed, and with them, the people who lived nearby. So, along with many other children, a boy named George was evacuated from his home near the power station at Yallourn and sent to live in Bendigo. At his new primary school, he sat next to a girl named Ruby, and they’ve been sitting next to each other ever since. Last week, they celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary.

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Jeremiah | Planting with the prophet Jeremiah

In the face of climate catastrophe, seek the welfare of your place. One from the archives, dusted off and revisited in a new context. (Listen here.)

Driving to church this morning, I nearly hit a kangaroo. It was a juvenile male moving frantically through the many acres of roadworks at the freeway exit in Bulleen. I slammed on my brakes as he hopped past my bonnet, then across two more lanes of traffic and over the freeway bridge into suburbia. I had wondered about whether the following would preach here in Templestowe. But the wave of grief I felt for this young kangaroo, whose home has recently been torn up around him so we can build yet another major road which will very soon fill up with traffic, told me that the following is exactly what we need to hear.

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Luke | Increase our faith!

How much faith is enough? (Listen here.)

Once upon a time, John D. Rockefeller was the richest man in the world. At the peak of his wealth, he was asked by a reporter, ‘How much money is enough?’ To this he famously replied, ‘Just a little bit more!’ If only I had a bit more money, says the rich man, then I’d relax. I’d be able to slow down and take a break. I’d spend more time with my family, explore my creativity, follow my deeper calling, be more generous, give more away. Whatever. But first, I just need that little bit more. You want something from me? I’ll get back to you in a year or three. I’ll be ready then.

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Luke | Mind the gap!

On fancy backpacks, merino briefs, and the responsibilities of the global rich. (Listen here.)

A few  years ago, my colleague Rev Nguyễn Hữu Trí took a group of young people on a trip to Vietnam. They planned to visit Christian communities aligned with factory workers, street kids and people addicted to heroin, both to build connections and to witness the gospel being embodied in these contexts. As Trí tells it, the young people turned up at the airport decked out in brand new gear purchased especially for the trip. And so off they went with their bright new backpacks, ergonomic walking shoes, high tech breathable fabrics and versatile layering options to encounter Vietnam’s poor.

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Romans | Ruth and the body of Christ

On flea bombs, sick kids, old wardrobes, the Grim Reaper – and resurrection life! (Listen here.)

Hi, I’m Alison, and I’m the daughter of a dynamo! My mother, Ruth Sampson, was a pastor of this church in the 1970’s and 80’s. She was energetic, dynamic, well remembered by many, yet she is long gone. In her absence, I’ve been asked to talk about her contributions, both at Box Hill Baptist and elsewhere in that era, and to draw out some points for your future.

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Luke | Three invitations into joy

Maybe the lost are not always the people we assume. (Listen here.)

‘Would you like a drink?’ I asked our friend Carl. ‘No thanks,’ he said. ‘Is that an Anglo no, or a Lebanese no?’ I asked. Our friend Carl is from a Lebanese family. In Lebanon, if someone offers you a drink, it is the height of rudeness to say yes straightaway. It might be 36 degrees, you might have walked across Beirut to get there, you might be so dry your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth. But you graciously say no, giving your host the opportunity to demonstrate their generous hospitality by offering again, and again, and again. By the sixth time, you can finally say ‘Yes, actually, now I come to think of it, and in response to your exquisite hospitality, perhaps I could manage a small drink!’ Then your host pours you a long cool glass of something refreshing, and hovers at the ready to refill it.

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Psalms | My grandparents’ breakfast table and other stories

Another week, another family story – this time, about lifelong faith. (Listen here.)

My grandparents’ breakfast room opened off the kitchen. It had a brown sideboard, brown scratchy chairs and a brown shag pile carpet. Whenever my sister and I stayed with them, we participated in their morning ritual. First, we held hands and said grace. Then my sister and I would gobble up our breakfasts while our grandparents were still fussing around assembling theirs. Cornflakes. Sultanas. Bran. A bit of sugar. Milk. Yawn. My sister and I would sit swinging our legs, discreetly itching where the chairs scratched and waiting impatiently for our grandparents to finish eating. But even then, we couldn’t get down from the table for, after breakfast was cleared away, it was time for morning devotions.

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