When the adverts offer us everything,

If only we have the money;

And you offer everything

If only we do without,

Lord, help us to say ‘no’;

When the easier way to succeed

Means we lose our integrity,

But the harder way,

Means we lose our pride,

Lord, help us to say ‘no’;

Today, we wonder what it is to see and then be transformed in our ways of being. Indeed, what is the connection between eyesight and insight, and what does it mean to allow our seeing to be shaped by our believing… or is it our believing to be shaped by our seeing?

Nathan Nettleton takes the reading from 2 Corinthians, and plays with the imagery around sight and blindness… and what it means for us to take the wool from our eyes. Let’s read his word in the belief that when we have eyes to see, we will see indeed. “The hope we have in the new life-giving ways of the Spirit fills us with confidence to live our faith openly — more openly even than Moses. His face was aglow with the glory of God after he received the written law, but he put a scarf over his face so that the people wouldn’t see how quickly it faded.  The Lord and the Spirit are one and the same, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is the freedom to see clearly. The wool is pulled away from our eyes and we come face to face with the glory of God. This experience is truly transfiguring! We are set ablaze by the Spirit — lit up like the Lord — so that more and more we become like mirrors reflecting the glory of God.

We have nothing to hide then, and no reason to lose our nerve, for God has been incredibly generous in trusting us with a share of this work. We have sworn off any methods that we’d be ashamed to have brought to light. We don’t hide behind masks; we don’t do anything shifty or manipulative; and we don’t twist God’s word to promote our own agendas.

Instead, we simply lay all our cards on the table and let our integrity speak for itself. By stating it plainly and living it openly in the sight of God, we give everyone the opportunity to make up their own minds about the truth.

2 Corinthians 3:12 – 4:2

The year is almost a month old, and we greet you from the first ‘record’ of the year. It won’t be long before we are back in a rhythm of our days, and the months will swing by. The question I wonder about as we engage this year, is how we can honour our experience of life, with all its highs and lows, and discover God within it… and how we can do that authentically, without compromising our connection to the Christian Story. This question presupposes that we experience God, rather than talk about God. Our experience is our primary way of connecting with God and the language we use to describe that is a secondary thing, rather than the focus. And I suspect that this is a risky business, perhaps even dangerous in terms of our preservation of the tradition. That is, ensuring we are authentic to our Gospel story and our experience of God is important.

Risk elicits lots of possible responses – fear and retreat, anger and attack, abandonment, excitement… but primarily I’d like to think that risk invites a response of trust. Trust in a Spirit of God who will always enliven, always draw toward truth. In the cry of the Psalmist, the present experience is being enlivened by the dynamic of the Spirit of God. And in the cry we have to God, we open ourselves to the larger experience of our being in God. And, yes, if there is no reference to Scripture or tradition, then there may be even greater risk. But experience itself is not contained by doctrine but enriching of it. We must take the risks if we are to live. And risk acknowledges our vulnerability and our frailty and people, and calls us to life anyway.

I wonder how the year will unfold, what creative adventure will be before us! I look forward to sharing the journey with you, and as a community exploring the way forward. I hope you can put February 21 in your diary, for our first community conversation of 2010, where we can explore the creative journey before us.