Text: Hebrews 12v1 "let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us"
[fx: Listen with Mother music]
Are you all sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.
Once upon a time there was a clock, who lived in a church. He was a handsome clock, with a polished wooden surround. He was called, 'Edward'. Edward had a white face, and elegant black hands. He was a very friendly clock, and was always pleased to see people come in and out of the church. In fact, he never had a cross word for anyone.
But Edward had a problem. In fact, quite a serious problem - for a clock. You see, Edward couldn't tell the time. That is, he couldn't tell the correct time. Edward always thought it was twenty to three. Many years ago, shrouded in history, two or three weeks had gone by when Edward was not wound up. And Edward's hands had stopped moving: they'd stopped at twenty to three. And so, whenever anybody asked him the time, he always said, "Oh, it's er - twenty to three!" And he didn't seem to find it in the least bit strange that, whenever anybody asked, it was always twenty to three.
Edward never realized that he'd stopped going. And now, whenever the Property Steward offers to wind him up, Edward tells him in no uncertain terms that he doesn't want that key stuck in his tummy button. And so, for as long as anyone can remember, it's been twenty to three; and Edward is left in peace.
And our churches today are well-populated with Edwards. In the story, we are Edward the clock; God is the Property Steward; the dynamic power of the Holy Spirit is the key. A clock like Edward will run for just over a week from the last time it was wound up, the last time it engaged with the power source. Then it stops. So do we if we stop engaging with God. We stop.
I wonder when the last period, or phase, of your life was when you were really wound-up, really engaging with God? Unless you're just a career Methodist - in the church as a life-long habit - then there must have been such a time to have brought you here. I wonder when it was?
Can I point out that a clock doesn't get wound up if it's cross-threaded (at cross purposes) with the key. Or if it doesn't accept that it needs to receive help from the key. Or if it doesn't realize that it has a purpose to fulfil, which requires it to be going somewhere in order to be useful.
You see, even if the key is there to wind up the clock, if it doesn't engage, then turning the key doesn't do the clock any good. That is to say, we can have all the outward form of being part of a church, coming along each week to get 'wound up' - but if we don't actually engage with God, then turning the handle doesn't do any good. I want you, I need you, to engage with God. Many of the people, in most of my churches, are not really engaging with God. It's been twenty to three for an awful long time.
If a clock shop owner had 200 clocks, but only 10 or a dozen of them were working, it would be a huge thrill for him each time his restorative work enabled another clock to engage with the key and get wound up. Imagine it! He's got 190 of them all saying twenty to three, or whatever; only 10 are working. He gets another one to engage - WOW! 11 working - only 189 still stuck! "There is more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over 99 who needed no repentance." And I'm privileged to see that: from time to time I see people, often who've been in the Church for years, suddenly engage with God, suddenly 'get into gear' and start moving.
Up till then, it's been like they're trying to drive a car with it in neutral: the engine's revving away, but the car doesn't get anywhere because the wheels are not engaging with the power source. Or, in the words of the reading from Hebrews, we're trying to run with perseverance the race that is set before us - but we don't seem to be getting anywhere because we're not making contact with the ground. Or two cogs in a machine, one driving the other; but they're not meshing together, so the machine doesn't work.
Jesus said the Kingdom of God in a person is like the yeast in a bowl of flour: when the yeast engages with the lump then slowly, inexorably, irresistibly the lump of dough begins to change and grow. It can't help it. But it wouldn't work if the yeast were in the flour wrapped up in a plastic bag - it needs to engage with the dough.
It's like the 'cars' on a roller coaster. While they're waiting to be filled with people, they're free to roll along the level track. Then they're pushed along to the winch mechanism at the start of the steep incline up. Suddenly they engage with the pulley mechanism: they jolt into action as they start being propelled by the power source. And if the unthinkable happened and the pulley mechanism broke, the car would know about it, because it would start to run back down the incline. But Edward still hasn't noticed that he's stuck at twenty to three.
[Read excerpt from 'Speak to These Bones' pp104-5:]One day God decided to attend the service at a certain church. He came in as the people were singing the first hymn. Being polite, like most English church people, they took no notice of him. They were encouraging one another in the hymn to praise God. God thought that was fine.
When they had finished, they all sat down and a man at the front started to talk to God. God noticed that he was dressed up in some very peculiar clothes. God did not understand why he had to be dressed in a funny outfit to talk to him, but there did not seem to be any great harm in it. Then the people were all telling him that they had sinned. God knew that, but he also knew that it was an important part of their reconciliation to acknowledge it, so he was pleased. Then they stood up to sing to him again.
As they were finishing, God was about to say how pleased he was to be with them and how much he loved them, but before he could open his mouth someone was reading from the Bible. Some fine passages from the Scriptures were read (God distinctly remembered inspiring them) and there was one verse which God knew was especially important for some of them to hear. He was going to point it out, but before he could do so they were singing again.
God could feel that some of the people really loved him and had words of praise and adoration filling their hearts. But they did not have any opportunity to say them because the man in the funny outfit said, "let us pray". He then prayed a long prayer about the needs of the church and the world: he mentioned the names of several church members who were ill and asked God to heal them. God longed to point out that in the congregation there was a lady with a splitting headache in the back row and a man who was terrified that he had cancer. But again, God did not get a chance to speak.
So it went on, and soon they were singing the final hymn and trooping out of the church on their way home to Sunday lunch. "Very nice service", they were saying to the man in the funny outfit as they left.
Next week, God decided not to go to that church, so he did not. Nobody noticed.
If God decided not to come to this church - how long do you think it would take us to notice? Would our worship continue, much the same as normal, week in week out - all without the God who's supposed to be the centre of it all? Because if so, then we can't be properly engaged to Him.
And if we're not even engaged, then we're certainly not in a covenant of marriage with Him.
AMEN