Author: Pat Karipa

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Temptation!

Temptation!
 
Readings:
Genesis 9:8-17
Psalm 25:1-9
1 Peter 3:18-22 
Mark 1:9-15
 
Colour: VIOLET
 
Sentence:
Lord be gracious to us; we long for you. Be our strength every morning; our salvation in time of distress. Isaiah 33: 2
 
Collect: 
God of Heaven and Earth, descend on us, we pray, in this season of Lent; strengthen us in the face of temptation so we may proclaim the Good News and reveal your ways. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
 
Mark 1:9-15
The Baptism of Jesus
 In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptised by John in the Jordan. 10And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.11And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’
The Temptation of Jesus
And the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. 13He was in the wilderness for forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.
The Beginning of the Galilean Ministry
Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’ 
 
 
 
Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.
 
Today is the first Sunday in Lent. Lent is the period of 40 days which comes before Easter. It started last week with Ash Wednesday. Lent is a season of reflection and preparation before the celebrations of Easter. By observing the 40 days of Lent, Christians replicate Jesus Christ’s sacrifice and withdrawal into the desert for 40 days. Lent is marked by fasting, both from food and festivities.
Easter celebrates the resurrection of Jesus after his death on the cross, Lent recalls the events leading up to and including Jesus’ crucifixion. So our journey towards Easter has begun. 
Our theme today is Temptation.
At some point in our lives, we all leave home. Well, most of us have all done it. When we do, we leave home physically, emotionally and spiritually. We leave those places that are familiar, comfortable and predictable. Sometimes we can’t wait to leave. Other times we would rather not leave. Sometimes we choose to leave. Other times the circumstances of life push us out the door. Regardless of how or why it happens, leaving home is a part of life. It happens in lots of different ways and times.
For children it might be the first day of school. Young adults move out of their parent’s home to start University or go to work. Significant changes of life are also forms of leaving home: getting married or a divorce, the birth of a child, the death of a loved one. A new job or the loss of employment are about leaving home. Moving to a new city, retirement, the loss of health all involve leaving home. Major decisions that brings us to the crossroads of life are also about leaving home.
Leaving home can be hard, scary and risky because it invites us to change and it opens us to new discoveries about ourselves. It challenges our understandings of where we find significance, meaning and security. Ultimately, though, leaving home is really the beginning of our spiritual journey and growth. Why? Because we are more vulnerable to and in need of God when we leave home.
However, leaving home is not simply about the circumstances of life. It’s the way of God’s people. Adam and Eve left the garden. Noah left his home on dry land. God told Abraham, “Go from your country and your whanau and your father’s house to the land that I will show you” (Gn. 12:1). Jacob ran away from home fearing for his life. Moses and the Israelites left their homes in Egypt. And in today’s gospel Jesus is leaving home.
As Mark tells it, “Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee” to the Jordan River. He left his home and now stands with John in the Jordan, the border between home and the wilderness. There he is baptised. The heavens are torn apart, the Spirit like a dove descends, and a voice declares, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” From there “the Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness.” Baptism may happen in the river, but the baptism of life begins in the wilderness.
You see, this story from Mark is not just about Jesus. It’s our story too. God’s words refer to Jesus in a uniquely literal way but they also apply to each one of us. By grace, gift, and the choice of God, we are his beloved daughters and sons. If leaving home, getting baptised, and going to the wilderness is Jesus’s way then it’s our way too. We leave behind our old identity, we are identified and claimed by God as his children, and we go to the wilderness.
Today is the first Sunday in LENT. And that’s what the season of Lent is about. It’s about leaving home and leaving home, in Lent and in life, it always takes us to the wilderness.
The wilderness is an in-between place. We are Neither here nor there. We have left behind what was and what will be is not yet clear. In the wilderness we come face to face with the reality of our lives; things done and left undone, our fears, our hopes and dreams, our sorrows and losses, as well as the unknown. These facts of our life are the source of our temptations. They feed our temptations.
With temptations, we tend to externalise them and make them about our behaviour. Behaviour is important but the real temptations are from within us, not around us. We are either tempted to believe that we are more than or less than the dust of God’s creation or we are tempted to not trust God’s willingness to get his hands dirty in the dust of which we have been created from. 
Temptations are not about our behaviour, breaking rules, or being bad. God doesn’t tempt us to see if we will pass or fail. Temptations are for our benefit, not God’s. They are a part of our salvation. We leave home and experience wilderness temptations to discover that our most authentic identity is being a child of God and our only real home is with God.
For many, the wilderness is new territory for us. In the wilderness the old structures, the ones we left behind, no longer contain, support, or define our life. It’s not, however, uncharted territory. The way has already been cleared by Jesus. It’s the way home, the way to God. We go to the wilderness with the knowledge and confidence that Christ has gone before us. Leaving home isn’t so much a loss for us but an opportunity for God. In the wilderness our illusions of self-sufficiency become surrendering to God, our helplessness opens us to God’s grace, and our guilt is overcome by God’s compassion. That’s what happens when you leave home.
We can never escape or avoid the wilderness. Like Jesus, we must go through it. We must face the temptations of Satan and be with the wild beasts. Yet we never go alone. The angels that ministered to Jesus will be there for us. “Remember who you are,” is their message. “You are a beloved son of God. You are a beloved daughter of God. You are one with whom he is well pleased.” Over and over they tell us. They remind, encourage and reassure us.
With each remembrance of who we are the demons are banished. With each remembrance of who we are we overcome Satan’s temptations. With each remembrance of who we are we take another step toward God. That’s the way through the wildernesses of life. Step after step. “I am a beloved child of God. With me he is well pleased.” Amen
 
Archdeacon Kaio Karipa
 
 
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Christ is Compassion!

Christ is Compassion!
 
Readings:
2 Kings 5:1-14 
Psalm 30
1 Corinthians 9:24-27 
Mark 1:40-45 
 
Sentence:
 Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’ Mark 1:41
 
Collect: 
Exalted God, you care for all who suffer, remind us of our shared humanity, move us with your compassion to the outcast and lost. May we never turn away from those in need, but share with generosity and joy the love we have received. For you are alive and reign with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
 
Mark 1:40-45 
Jesus Cleanses a Leper
A leper came to Jesus begging him, and kneeling he said to him, ‘If you choose, you can make me clean.’ 41Moved with pity, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him, and said to him, ‘I do choose. Be made clean!’42Immediately the leprosy left him, and he was made clean. 43After sternly warning him he sent him away at once, 44saying to him, ‘See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.’45But he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word, so that Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.
 
 
Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.
 
Well whanau, we returned to karakia at Te Wairua Tapu today. There’s still lots of work to be done but it’s great to be back in the church sharing in worship and fellowship. 
In today’s gospel from Mark, we hear the story of someone, “annoying God,” more specifically, a leper who asks Jesus for healing. Prior to this passage, Mark tells us that Jesus and his new disciples are setting out on a preaching tour of Galilee: “Let’s go on to the neighbouring towns,” Jesus says, “so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.”  So off they go to spread the Good News.  And that’s when Jesus meets this leper.
According to some biblical studies, there’s a big question about one sentence of this passage.  Some translations, say that Jesus was ‘moved with pity or compassion’.  But a few translations, say Jesus was becoming angry.  What an odd thought, Jesus being angry.  There are good arguments for either one being the original wording, but most English translations choose to represent Jesus as compassionate, rather than angry. You can understand why, especially when we probably don’t like the idea that Jesus would be angry at someone asking for healing.  But at the same time, I am intrigued by the idea that Jesus may have been angry, just for a moment at least, because to me, that sounds like a very human reaction, not that I’m trying to justify anger but that sounds more like the reaction of a God who has flesh and blood and has human emotions like you and I.
 
However, we have just been told, that Jesus has set out on a mission: he intends to preach the Good News to all of Galilee.  He’s a man with a plan.  And his plan to preach has suddenly been interrupted by this man who approaches him to ask for healing.  So many of us are always in a rush, trying to fit more into our  day, irritated by missing a green light on our way to karakia this morning.  There’s a certain joy in imagining Jesus in a hurry: “Come on, hurry up,” he mutters to himself.  “I don’t have all day.  I have a sermon to write! And, I have to get to Tiberias!”  But besides impatience, there are other reasons that Jesus might have been angry in that moment.
Firstly, this man is a leper.  In a society without modern medicine, with no understanding of germs, viruses, or the immune system, with no way to understand the causes of diseases and no way to treat them, many illnesses were feared; and people suffering from these diseases were outcasts.  In other words, lepers were systematically excluded from society.  For Jesus to speak to this man, let alone touch him, sets Jesus in opposition to the powers of the day because he breaks the rules of a social system that kept clean and unclean people separated. 
Secondly, Jesus may have been angry as he heard this man’s request.  Perhaps Jesus was beginning to realise that his life was going to be shaped and marked by the unrelenting needs of all of the people in pain and distress around him.  It was never going to stop!  For the rest of his ministry, people will be clamoring for his attention: crying from the roadside, grasping at the hem of his garment, lowering the sick through the roof, all trying to get the healing Jesus can offer them.  You can’t blame them.  These are people in need.  But you can imagine living with the constant and overwhelming requests for help would be exhausting for anyone, and Jesus had so much to do with so little time.  I imagine that if Jesus were angry for a moment, it may have been, in part, at the realisation that there would never be just a sermon, just a dinner with friends, just a moment to pray.  He was going to have to live with continual interruptions.
 
You see, we too, live with continual interruptions, don’t we?  There’s always something coming up, something wanting or demanding our attention.  As those interruptions come up, we struggle to balance them: a stranger needs a hand to load something in their car when we’re already late for a hui or our kids sports games. Losing a loved that fills our heart with sadness and changes our lives forever. A daughter struggling with post-natal depression. A church member weeping in the pews on a Sunday because they were just diagnosed with cancer. All this stuff, it’s not part of our game plan.
This story of Jesus being interrupted on his preaching mission teaches us something about how to handle those interruptions, how to live with the uncertainty of changing our plans and shifting our priorities.  Jesus may have become angry for a moment–it’s only natural to feel frustrated or disoriented or even angered when our hopes and intentions are thrown into chaos.  But Jesus doesn’t let that first emotional reaction control his response.
Too often, we get drawn into believing that faithful discipleship means cultivating the correct emotion in our hearts: peaceful contemplation in worship, when truly our minds are filled with worry; sympathy for a person in need, when truly we are preoccupied with our own concerns; excitement for a mission trip or a life change, when truly we don’t want too.  When Jesus feels anger and then acts with compassion, he reminds us that discipleship can mean loving God and our neighbour with our actions even when we are angry or distracted.  Discipleship can mean responding faithfully to God’s surprises and the uncertainty of life, even when it’s really hard.  In that space whanau, we are never alone.
 
Maybe none of us “Want to annoy God,” because we fear that we are not important enough to notice, not worthy of God’s attention.  That might be the reason that so many of us are in such a rush!  We are always trying to be more important, to be more productive, to convince ourselves and each other of our own value.  We want to be people worthy of attention.
But there is nothing we need to do to earn God’s attention or God’s love.
The promise of this story is that Christ is always ready to turn toward us.  On that Galilean road, with so many limits and demands on his time, with so many consequences for stretching out his hand, Jesus chooses to touch and heal because, to Jesus, each one of God’s children matters.  Each one of us is a loved and beautiful child of God.  Each one of us is unique and precious.  The good news of this story is that you all matter to God.
 
The challenge of this story is to go and do likewise.  The challenge is to approach those interruptions and disruptions, those unexpected intrusions and inconvenient crises, those times of uncertainty and change, and see them as moments of opportunity.  The challenge is to set aside everything we think we know about God’s plan for us, all of our rush and hurryness, all of our ideas about who and what is important, and to turn toward our neighbours to bless and heal, and to find we are also blessed and healed by our actions.  Because when we do that, whanau, when we take a moment, take a breath, and turn towards each other, we see Jesus, on this spiritual road journey with us.
 
Let us pray: God, open our eyes, our hearts and our minds. Teach us to meet each new turn in the road of life with wonder.  When we are angry or indifferent or anxious, bless us with wisdom to hold our emotions gently, neither to ignore them nor to banish them, but to see and feel them and choose your way of love.  Give us the courage to bridge divides, to stretch out our hands to one another and to follow wherever you lead us and bless us with a certainty that we are never alone. Amen
 
Archdeacon Kaio Karipa
 
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Life of Prayer!

Life of Prayer!
 
Readings:
Isaiah 40:21-31
Ps 147:1-11,20c
1 Corinthians 9:16-23 
Mark 1:29-39 
 
Sentence:
34And  Jesus cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him. Mark 1:34
 
Collect: 
Healing Jesus, in your touch the sick were healed, and the chains unbound. Set us on a new path of wholeness, deliver us from all that binds us, and turn us to embrace your life giving love. For you are alive and reign with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
 
Mark 1:29-39 
Jesus Heals Many at Simon’s House
As soon as they left the synagogue, they entered the house of Simon and Andrew, with James and John. 30Now Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, and they told Jesus about her at once. 31He came and took her by the hand and lifted her up. Then the fever left her, and she began to serve them. That evening, at sunset, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. 33And the whole city was gathered around the door. 34And he cured many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons; and he would not permit the demons to speak, because they knew him.
A Preaching Tour in Galilee
In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed. 36And Simon and his companions hunted for him. 37When they found him, they said to him, ‘Everyone is searching for you.’ 38He answered, ‘Let us go on to the neighbouring towns, so that I may proclaim the message there also; for that is what I came out to do.’ 39And he went throughout Galilee, proclaiming the message in their synagogues and casting out demons.
 
 
Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.
 
Well whanau, next Sunday 14 February, we could possibly be returning to karakia at Te Wairua Tapu. The new slate roof is complete, our church is now water tight after waiting 35 years and our team of amazing workers have cleaned Te Wairua Tapu from top to bottom. We will confirm on Tuesday 09 February.
In today’s gospel reading from Mark, you get to see that everyone loves it when Jesus shows up. His presence makes a difference. Things happen. The sick are cured. Demons are cast out. Lives are changed. This is true not only for the people of Capernaum in Jesus’ time but also for us here and now. He comes to our house as surely as he went to the house of Simon and Andrew. I know of many people who have been transformed because Jesus has shown up in their lives. 
But what happens, though, when we wake up to find ourselves in the darkness of life? You know as well as I do that there are times when life is just plain hard. We struggle to get up. We don’t get our way. Things happen that we never wanted to have happen in our lives. Faith is difficult and at times, it’s results don’t seem like it works. In those times it’s as if there is only darkness and Jesus is nowhere to be seen. Some will assume he has forsaken them. They will abandon their faith. They will give up on him and even the Church. So what do we do when Jesus takes off and we feel all alone? That’s the big dark question.
According to today’s gospel that time will come. Jesus will get up in the early morning hours, while it’s still very dark, and go to a deserted place. But this isn’t about Jesus escaping or getting away. It’s about prayer; his and ours. It’s no longer about what’s happening around us or to us but what’s happening within us. Regardless of how dark it may seem Jesus never leaves us. He may withdraw but that doesn’t mean he’s absent. His withdrawing is in reality an invitation for us to move to a new place, to the deserted place. He calls us out of the comfort of the house into the vulnerability of the wilderness. It’s a deserted and desolate place; a place where there is only prayer. There, we are alone with nothing so it would seem.
You see, we all have deserted places in our lives.  For some it’s accepting the limitations that age and disease bring. Others deal with broken relationships. Loneliness and grief are desert places for some. The struggle to make ends meet is a wilderness many are trying to escape. You could each name your own wildernesses, places of hardship and deserts. Most of us don’t like those deserted places. We tend to avoid them. They are empty places that can be scary and dangerous. There is nowhere to hide. We have to face up to who we are and who we are not. We are confronted by things done and left undone. Our sorrows and losses are laid bare in those dark places. There we begin to recognise that our successes, possessions, and accomplishments don’t ultimately count for much. In the wilderness we have to admit we are not in control. Time in the deserted place is a matter of life and death. However, it’s also the place where our deepest healing can happen.
But there is a cost for going to the wilderness. We must trade the security of the house for the risk of the desert. The wilderness prayer of self-surrender must begin to replace the house prayer that only asks for things to happen or change. Wilderness prayer doesn’t ask so much that circumstances will be changed but that we will be changed. Only being in the wilderness makes that change possible. Jesus goes to the dark and deserted places of our lives to draw us there. If he didn’t go first, if he didn’t invite us to that place, none of us would probably ever go there. Yet, the wilderness and desert places of our lives are Tapu and sacred places. In the desert there is only God, there is nothing but God. Jesus is drawing us deeper and deeper into the heart of God. That happens in the very place we thought was barren, empty and desolate.
The deserted places of our lives are the places of Jesus’ prayer. They are the starting point for his message of good news. Good news comes from the empty and desolate places. Jesus will leave this deserted place to go proclaim his message in the neighbouring towns. Before today’s gospel Jesus emerged from the wilderness saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near, repent, and believe the good news” (Mk. 1:15). Before him was “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord’” (Mk.1:3). Before that the voice of God spoke creation into existence when “the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep” (Gen. 1:2). New life arises from the deserted and empty places. The good news of Christ comes from the wilderness. Like I said almost a year ago, we are in midst of real change, new life and new beginnings.
“Everyone is searching for you,” they told Jesus. Yet Simon and his companions were the only ones to find him. Maybe they were the only ones willing to go to the deserted place. I wonder where the others were searching. The safety of town? The security of their houses? Standing in line at the door? I wonder where we will search when the dark or nighttime of our life comes. Go to the deserted places of your life and it’s there you will find Jesus, praying. Amen
Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

The Venerable Kaio Karipa

Chaplain

The Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu

www.tewairuatapu.com.au

Photo: Feb 2021

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The Presence of JESUS!

The Presence of JESUS!

Readings:

Deuteronomy 18:15-20 

Psalm 111

1 Corinthians 8:1-13 

Mark 1:21-28

Sentence:

 25But Jesus rebuked him, saying, ‘Be silent, and come out of him!’ Mark 1:25

Collect: 

Holy One of God, as healer and teacher of the faith, your words astound, and transform the lives of many. May we teach your word and be bold in our actions so that your presence will be revealed. For you are alive and reign with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

Mark 1:21-28

The Man with an Unclean Spirit

They went to Capernaum; and when the sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. 22They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. 23Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, 24and he cried out, ‘What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.’ 25But Jesus rebuked him, saying, ‘Be silent, and come out of him!’ 26And the unclean spirit, throwing him into convulsions and crying with a loud voice, came out of him. 27They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, ‘What is this? A new teaching—with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.’ 28At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

Well whanau, the man with an unclean spirit is probably the most intriguing part of today’s gospel.

Who is this man with an unclean spirit that shows up in the synagogue? He’s loud. He interrupts. And he draws our attention the way an un-showered, talking to himself, homeless man would catch our attention if he showed up at Te Wairua Tapu. 

However, he doesn’t have that effect on the people in the synagogue. Their attention is clearly on Jesus. They are amazed by his presence and his teaching. It’s like nothing they have ever heard before. He speaks with authority. His words mean something and they make a difference. Even the man with an unclean spirit is shocked and intrigued by Jesus. “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?”

Jesus is teaching them and his authority fills not just the place but each person that is there. While this is happening, immediately this man with an unclean spirit shows up. The presence of Jesus, the one with a ‘clean-spirit’ draws out the presence of the man with an ‘unclean spirit’. Jesus has that effect on people, especially those who listen. His authority and teaching reveal the truth about his listeners’ lives.

The one with the unclean spirit is an image of what the lives of those in the synagogue actually look like. His uncleanness is not about personal hygiene, immorality, being bad or being over religious. Instead, his presence “in their synagogue” describes the problems of their soul, their fragmented and dysfunctional lives, and the many voices within them. In looking at him they see themselves and they are astounded by the contrast of the one who has a clean-spirit.

“What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?” The man senses the distance between his life and Jesus’. His words betray his isolation. However, it’s not just about him. He speaks not only for himself but for all those in the synagogue that day. He represents every one who has ever experienced the brokenness of life and for all who feel disconnected from themselves, others or God. In other words, he represents the human condition. Behind his question is the unspoken longing and hope that Jesus would say, “Everything I have is to do with you.” Those are the words that can begin to put his life back together.

We’re not so different. Each one of us also longs for that answer because we too know the separation and brokenness of our own lives. We’ve lived in isolation. We have been trapped in grief. And we have carried the burden of guilt. The truth of those situations often reveals itself in the many personas we wear. At some level we all project various personas or images of how we want others to see us and how we want to see ourselves. Sometimes it’s as simple as saying, “I can’t go to the shops looking like this. I haven’t had a shave and my hair is a mess.”  Or we smile and say, “Yeah, I’m good,” and quickly change the subject when the truth is we are hanging on by a thread and not sure how we’ll get through the rest of the day. We don’t want our life to be seen in it’s unmade-up condition.

You see, we use our personas as masks to hide the truth of what our life is like and who we are. The tragedy is that they also hide who we might become. It seems that those masks most often arise from the many voices that live within us. They are the voices of low self esteem, guilt, grief, fear, anger and judgment. They are the voices that keep us in constant comparison and competition with others. They are voices that demand perfectionism, asking, “What have you done for me today?” The voices are never satisfied. We are never able to do or be enough. Every one of those is a false voice, the voice of the unclean spirit that separates us from our authentic self, from all that we love and all who love us.

The reality of it all, is that deep down we long for intimacy and authenticity but the last thing we want is to be found out, to have someone see us for who we truly are and who we are not. We don’t want to drop our guard so we put on a good front hoping that will gain us approval, acceptance and love. We say the right things, act the right way, dress and behave a certain way, even believe the right way, and all the while we are creating ourselves in the image and likeness of the unclean spirit. The problem is that those personas we put up, keep us from having the very things we think they will gain us; things like intimacy, love, acceptance, healing, forgiveness and authenticity. The personas offer no possibility for life to flourish and be abundant. Still we hold on to those false voices, voices that collectively ask, “Have you come to destroy us?”

That is exactly what Jesus has come for. He has come to destroy. He silences our false voices.  He casts out all our personas and makes us people with a clean spirit. He has everything to do with us. He stands before us as the mirror image of who we can become. There is no aspect of our life about which he is not concerned. He calls us into our true self, the one made in the image and likeness of God. He calls us back into the beauty and wholeness of our original creation. Today’s gospel is as much about calling forth as it is about casting out.

The true voice and the true image are always present. That’s why the man with an unclean spirit can cry out, “I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” He speaks from a deep place of knowing. His recognition of Jesus is at a profound level a recognition of himself and his own holiness. For every voice that denies that and leaves us crying, “What have you do to with us?” Jesus says, “Shhh. Be quiet. That’s not who you are. You are mine and I have everything to do with you.” Listen to that voice and you too will be amazed and astounded at what can become of your life. Amen

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

The Venerable Kaio Karipa

Chaplain

The Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu

www.tewairuatapu.com.au

Photo: Jan 2020

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Roofs finished, now the cleaning begins…

Thanks Everyone:

Derek, Greg, Wiremu, Pat, Miriam, Robyn also Terry for erecting the scaffold, Irma & Wayne, Te Ao Iti, Scott and the Living Water Fellowship for our combined working bee today. It’s still a work in progress however the results so far are stunning!

Derek with Living Water Fellowship
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Follow Me!

Follow Me!

Readings:

1 Jonah 3:1-5,10 

Psalm 62:5-12

1 Corinthians 7:29-31 

Mark 1:14-20

Sentence:

 And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’ Mark 1:17

Collect: 

God of Good News, Bearer of the Gospel, call us to repentance, call us to belief, so that we may fish for people in our generation and draw them to your love. For you are alive and reign with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

Mark 1:14-20

Jesus Calls the First Disciples

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’ As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

Simon and Andrew were casting a net into the sea for they were fishermen. Day after day it was the same thing; the same sea, the same net and the same boat. Day after day it was wind, water, fish, sore muscles and tired bodies. They probably grew up watching their tupuna fishing, watching their future life and watching how they would spend their time. Casting nets and pulling them in. If you aren’t casting the net, then you sit in the boat mending the net. That’s what James and John were doing. Fishing and mending nets.

 You and I know about those days, don’t we?

Many of us living in Sydney may not fish for a living but we know about casting and mending nets. Days that all seem the same. One looks like another. Life is routine, nothing changes and we don’t expect much to happen. This is our life. Casting and mending to make a living for ourselves, to feed our whanau and pay the bills. Working hard to gain security and get to retirement, to hold our whanau together, to make our relationships work and to support our children and mokopuna as they grow up. Working to gain the things we want; a roof over our heads, a car, clothes and holidays. Working to earn a reputation, gain approval and establish status. Or working our way through another day of loneliness, sadness or illness.

Casting and mending are realities of life. They are also the circumstances in which Jesus comes to us, the context in which we hear the call to new life and the place where we are challenged, changed and our ordinary lives become extraordinary.

You see, these would be disciples, Simon and Andrew, James and John, are not looking for Jesus. They are too focused on fishing. It’s another day of casting and mending nets. They may not have even noticed Jesus but he not only sees them he speaks to them. Jesus has a way of showing up in the most ordinary places of life and interrupting the daily routines of our lives. That’s what he did to Simon and Andrew, James and John. That’s what Jesus does to your life and my life. “Follow me” is Jesus’ invitation to a new life. If these four fishermen accept the invitation, their lives will be changed forever. They will be different. They will no longer just catch fish. They will fish for people.

When Jesus says, “I will make you fish for people,” he is describing the transformation of their lives, not simply offering them a job catching new members or followers. He could just as easily have said to the carpenters, “Follow me, and you will build the kingdom of heaven.” To the farmers, “Follow me, and you will grow God’s people. To the doctors, “Follow me, and you will heal the brokenness of the world.” To the teachers, “Follow me, and you will open minds and hearts to the presence of God.” To the parents, “Follow me, and you will nurture new life.”

Whatever your life is, however you spend your time, Jesus calls us to “Follow me.” “Follow me” is the call to participate with God in God’s own saving work, God’s ministry. It’s the work of change and growth. That work is always about moving toward a bigger vision, moving our life in a new direction and experiencing that our little story of life is connected to and a part of a much larger story of life, God’s life.

As Jesus walked by the Sea of Galilee he saw Simon, Andrew, James, and John. Jesus called them. Mark records no discussions, no questions, no goodbyes. They simply “left… and followed him.”

I’m afraid that if Mark were writing about many of us – when he gets to the part when Jesus says, “Follow me” – Mark would write, “and immediately the questions followed.” “Why? Where are we going? What will we do? How long will we be gone? What do I need to take? Where will we stay?”

But this conversation doesn’t take place in today’s gospel. Jesus doesn’t offer GPS coordinates, a map, an itinerary, or a destination, only an invitation. This is not the type of journey you can prepare for. This is the inner journey, a journey into the deepest part of our being, the place where God resides. It’s not about planning, organising, making lists or packing supplies. It’s not that easy. If anything, this journey is about leaving things behind. Listen to what Mark says:

  • “Immediately they left their nets and followed him.”
  • “They left their father Zebedee in the boat…, and followed him.”

The invitation, “follow me,” is also the invitation to leave behind; to leave behind our nets, our boats, and even our parents. That’s the hard part for most of us. We’re pretty good at accumulating and clinging onto but not so good at letting go. More often than not our spiritual growth involves some kind of letting go. We never get anywhere new as long as we’re unwilling to leave where we are. We accept Jesus’ invitation to follow, not by packing up, but by letting go.

“Follow me” is both the invitation to and the promise of new life. So what are the nets that entangle us? What are the little boats that contain our life? Who are the fathers from whom we seek identity, value or approval? What do we need to let go of and leave behind so that we might follow Jesus?

Don’t think this is simply about changing jobs, disowning our whanau or moving to a new town. It’s about the freedom to be fully human and, in so doing, discover God’s divinity within us. We let go so that our life may be reoriented, so that we can now travel in a new direction, so that we may be open to receive the life of God anew. When we let go, everything is transformed – including our nets, boats and parents. That’s why Jesus could tell them they would still be fishermen. But now they would fish for people. They wouldn’t become something they weren’t already, but they would be changed. They would become transformed fishermen. They would more authentically be who they already were. In other words, if you’re a cleaner, you’re still a cleaner but a transformed and authentic cleaner! Same as truckies, fruit pickers, accountants or lawyers!

Ultimately, it’s about letting go of our own little life so that we can receive God’s life. This letting go happens in the context of our everyday activities; work, school, families, paying the bills, running around doing things, cooking a kai, relationships and trying to do the right thing. It happens in the casting and mending of our nets. These are the times and places where Jesus shows up and calls us into a new way of being and then our world changes. It happened for Simon, Andrew, James, and John. It can happen for you and me. Amen

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

The Venerable Kaio Karipa

Chaplain

The Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu

www.tewairuatapu.com.au

Posted on

Nazareth!

Nazareth!

Readings:

1 Samuel 3: 1-10

Psalm 139: 1-5, 12-18

1 Corinthians 6: 12-20

John 1: 43-51

Sentence:

  ‘Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!’ John 1:49

Collect: 

Almighty God, Saviour of the world, in the birth of your Son you reveal yourself as Word made flesh; grant us your grace that we may live as your children, certain in the knowledge that we are loved beyond measure, and called to be willing to share that love. Through Jesus Christ our Liberator, who is alive and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen

John 1: 43-51

Jesus Calls Philip and Nathanael

The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, ‘Follow me.’ Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael and said to him, ‘We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth.’ Nathanael said to him, ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’ Philip said to him, ‘Come and see.’ When Jesus saw Nathanael coming towards him, he said of him, ‘Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!’ Nathanael asked him, ‘Where did you come to know me?’ Jesus answered, ‘I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.’ Nathanael replied, ‘Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!’ Jesus answered, ‘Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.’And he said to him, ‘Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man.’

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

“Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” That is the question asked.  Nathanael has some strong opinions and assumptions about Nazareth. I wonder, do you ever make any assumptions? “I’ve seen his type before; he’ll never change.” “She’s always so negative; I know what she’s going to say.” “He won’t understand; he never does.” “That place, it’s always been like that; it will never get any better.” “Nothing good can come of that situation.”

People of faith: people like Nathanael, like you and I, make these and all sorts of assumptions everyday. Sometimes our assumptions are about other people; how they behave, what they will say, what we can expect, what they think or believe. Other times we look at particular situations; our relationships, the state of the world or the church, our rangatahi trying to grow up and we declare it hopeless. We are sure nothing good can come out of that situation. Then there are those times we look at ourselves or a part of our life; maybe it’s a secret we have carried for years, the illness we face each day, the addictions we hide, the hurts we have caused others, the loneliness and lostness of grief, and we say it will never get any better. How can anything good come out of this? We may or may not speak our assumptions out loud but they roll around in our heads and influence what we do.

You know what happens we when we assume, right? The old saying has some truth to it but I am thinking of something else. The assumptions we make destroy relationships, love and life. We think we know more than really do. Assumptions act as limitations. They narrow our vision and perspective. They close off the possibility of change and growth. Our assumptions deny the possibility of reconciliation, healing, a different way of being or a new life. Ultimately, they impoverish our faith and proclaim there is no room for God to show up, be present and act.

It’s no coincidence that Nathanael is sitting under the fig tree when he makes his comment. It’s the fig tree that gave Adam and Eve the leaves behind which they hid from God and themselves. It’s the fig tree that Jesus will later curse for producing no fruit and no signs of life. Assumptions become our hiding places. They are not fruitful. They keep us from engaging with life, ourselves, each other and at a deeper level, God. Nathanael doesn’t doubt that God will fulfill the Old Testament promises. He isn’t surprised by and doesn’t even question that Philip could have found the one about “whom Moses in the law and the prophets spoke.” His shock and disbelief are that this could come out of Nazareth. Nathanael has as much faith as the next candidate to be a disciple, but Nazareth? No way. Not there. Can anything good come out of Nazareth?

You see, we all have our Nazareths. We think they are about places, other people, particular circumstances or even pieces of our lives. But most of the time, our assumptions are about us; our fears, our prejudices, our guilt, our losses and our wounds. We take our past experiences, real or imagined and project them onto another person or situation. Assumptions keep life shallow and superficial. If we assume, then we don’t have to risk a deeper knowing and being known.

God doesn’t allow God to be limited by our assumptions. For every Nazareth there is an invitation to “come and see.” For every assumption we make there is a deeper truth to be discovered, a new relationship to be experienced and a new life to be lived. Our Nazareths become the place of God’s epiphany.

Over and over Jesus shows up from the Nazareths of our life and calls us out from under the fig tree. Whenever we leave the fig tree we open ourselves to see God present and at work in the most unexpected places and people. As the assumptions fall away a new life and a new world arise.  The fulfillment of God’s promises and earthly life happen in Nazareth. The last place we would’ve thought that possible is the first place God chooses. Come and see. Our salvation and healing happen where we thought nothing good could happen. Reconciliation and love are revealed in relationships we were certain nothing good could come from. The seemingly hopeless situations of life begin to bear fruit. Words of forgiveness and compassion are spoken by people we were sure could never say such things. God puts lives back together in Nazareth.

There is more happening in Nazareth than we ever thought possible. You see, not just “anything good” comes out of Nazareth. The One who is Good, our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, comes out of Nazareth. Amen

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

Posted on

Baptism of Jesus

Baptism of Jesus!

Readings:
Genesis 1:1-5
Psalm 29
Acts 19:1-7
Mark 1:4-11

Sentence:
8I have baptised you with water; but he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit. Mark 1:8

Collect: 
Beloved Son of God, whose Way was revealed in humility, through water and Spirit; you received a baptism of repentance. Empower all who are baptised in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit to embrace that commissioning and to serve you faithfully in love. For you are alive and reign with the Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen

Gospel: Mark 1: 4-11
The Baptism of Jesus
John the baptiser appeared in the wilderness, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. And people from the whole Judean countryside and all the people of Jerusalem were going out to him, and were baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair, with a leather belt around his waist, and he ate locusts and wild honey. He proclaimed, ‘The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to stoop down and untie the thong of his sandals. I have baptised you with water; but he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit.’ In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptised by John in the Jordan. And just as he was coming up out of the water, he saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’

Tena koutou katoa e te whanau o Te Wairua Tapu.

Well whanau, we’re off! In the twinkling of an eye and the span of a few verses in Mark’s gospel, we see Jesus as an adult at the Jordan River ready to be baptised by his cousin, John. With a sense of urgency and excitement, Mark provides a compact account of this event, highlighted with God speaking, the heavens opening up and the Holy Spirit descending down onto the newly baptised Son of the Living God. 

From Mark’s account, John the Baptist makes it abundantly clear that there will be one who is different, one who will baptise with the Spirit and the one who will be the real deal! The “one who is more powerful than I” shows up to be baptised with water, to submit to John’s baptism even though John states as being not worthy to untie Jesus’ sandals. It’s a pivotal moment, but Mark doesn’t linger long because there’s so much more to tell. No fancy baptismal cake and photo opportunities for Jesus; there’s no time to rest. One minute the Son of God is soaking wet and basking in the affirmation of his Father, and the next minute he’s driven into the wilderness by the very same Spirit that just descended on him. 

We celebrate the baptism of our Lord each year but what connections do we make between Jesus’ commissioning and him getting driven head-on into ministry at the insistence of the Spirit? For many of us, today may serve to remind us of our own baptism and the day we were baptised, whether or not we realised what was happening. Maybe we made our own promises, or perhaps someone made them on our behalf, like a lot of us older ones. Do we see it as a commissioning, as the point in which we were called and we are continually called to dive into the deep waters of mission and ministry ourselves? 

You see, we walk in Jesus’ footprints and each one of us is called, named, claimed, and sent, whether we know it or not. I was speaking with a brother in Christ yesterday. Someone who has ministered in Sydney for over 30 years, with a number of those years proclaiming the gospel in Kings Cross. We spoke about how we were baptised as infants and neither one of us ever thought we’d be called, commissioned and sent out to minister to others and with a mission to bring them back to God through proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ, and yet, here we are.

That’s why it’s important to remember that not all people have experienced baptism yet, and many may have questions about it as an entry point of faith. So, as a church, are we prepared and ready to receive others to begin their faith journey, make room at the table for them and trust the Spirit working in their lives? Can we take our own baptismal promises seriously and live into them afresh every day? This week’s reading from Genesis reminds us of the creative power of God to speak everything into existence, to name night and day, even as God names us as children in the waters of baptism. In the beginning…God created. God is still creating, redeeming, restoring, and renewing. Baptism marked a new beginning for Jesus, and baptism marks a new beginning for each one of us, including those yet to be baptised. In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Archdeacon Kaio Karipa

The Venerable Kaio Karipa
Chaplain
Sydney Maori Anglican Fellowship Church of Te Wairua Tapu
www.tewairuatapu.com.au

Photo: 08 Jan 2021