Where does Jesus take us?

During the week, I was listening to someone having a little rant. That happens from time to time. On this occasion, they were ranting about the English language, or more accurately the way the English language sometimes gets used. And their particular gripe was to do with the word “journey”. “Everyone’s been on a ‘journey’,” they complained. “These reality programmes like MasterChef, the people always say they’ve been on a journey. ‘Oh, it’s been an amazing journey,’ they say. But they haven’t been on a journey! They’ve been stuck for weeks on a television set. They haven’t been anywhere.”

Now, while I have some sympathy for my ranting friend, at the same time I understand what those folk are saying. When we experience something which is life-changing, something profound, something which takes us beyond what we have known to someplace new, we often use the language of “journey”. “Journey” is the metaphor for change.

Now while we’re discussing language issues and journeys, let’s consider this morning’s gospel reading. Here we have two journeys: one which is entirely physical – a real, bodily journey – and another which is altogether more metaphysical – a journey of the heart.

We begin with the real journey: Jesus and the disciples travel by boat from Galilee to the country of the Gerasenes. And as we’re interested in language matters, we should note that the NIV which Rhyllis read from says it thus:

They sailed to the region of the Gerasenes,

which is across the lake from Galilee.

But, if we compare it with the NRSV translation we find:

Then they arrived at the country of the Gerasenes,

which is opposite Galilee.

“Across the lake from Galilee”?

Or “opposite Galilee”?

Taking up mat and cross: a narrative sermon on John 5:1-13

Yesterday I watched him,
as I have watched him for a long time.

Old now,
and dragging himself more slowly than ever across the cobbles.

Each night, past my gate, out of the city,
clutching whatever meagre coins he's managed to beg,
out to spend the night huddled against the city wall.

Outside with all the other undesirables –
the dung collectors and stinking tanners and sailors
and cursed money lenders and all the rest
who would never be missed if they didn't make it through the night.

And back again each morning he comes,
dragging himself back to beg and wait beside that pool.

As if he had a chance anyhow.

The way he moves, crab-like and crippled,
scrabbling to keep up with the snails,
he has never had a chance of making it into that pool
ahead of anyone.

Not that I've ever paid him much attention mind.

One doesn't pay much attention to the likes of him.

Not until yesterday, that is.

We watched this in church a couple of weeks ago...

I was wanting people to think about how we celebrate Easster; how we invite them to share with us in our celebration. And it occurred to me that there was a whole lot in this video which summed up what I was trying to say. What do you think?

[It doesn't fit the column, but if you click on the video it should take you to the YouTube page.]

What's been happening...

Much, much delay... while I've been trying to work out how to make this a little more user friendly.

I don't know how much success I've had, so any feedback is welcome. For a start, rather than posting the whole sermon, there should be just an introduction with a "Read more" option - for the diehards who really do want to read more! The other feature is a "Search this blog" option, so that readers can find out jut how much I'm repeating myself.

The next thing to work on is how to automatically let people know when a new post is up. Any suggestions? (Polite ones only, please.)