In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The Lord is my shepherd: therefore can I lack nothing - the song of trust, of Yahway the good Shepherd.
Airports are amazing places to people watch and the 'fall out' from delayed flights can give one a glimpse into the wide spectrum of human reactions to interruptions, disappointments and frustrations.
Such was the case on Friday evening when the announcement that my 7.25 flight from Gatwick was going to be delayed by 3 hours due to lack of a cabin crew. The fact that this came as we were 'at the gate' awaiting boarding resulted in a collective 'Oh no' from the assembled passengers and what was an irritation and inconvenience to me was much more for many of my fellow passengers as I was to observe. Looking around I watched as parents of small children pulled on their emotional, and physical, reserves to endure the delay, the elderly, obviously caring husband of his equally elderly and frail wife whose eyes betrayed the extent of her anxiousness and the carers of a profoundly disabled young man who looked at each other and established their support and 'game plan' for the hours ahead. In addition there were the young people who were on their mobile phones contacting parents and friends in Edinburgh rearranging their evenings and securing promises of collection later in the night! People turning to people they knew they could trust in and rely on in their hour of need.
And trust and compassion are at the heart of this mornings Gospel lesson.
We hear of the apostles returning to Jesus to report back on their recent missions - their debriefing after their first tour of duty - recalling and retelling Jesus, and each other, of their exciting tales of their adventures, the people they have met and the healings they have carried out.
Did they stop to draw breath? Did they speak excitedly, quickly, interrupting each other to share their experiences, tell their tales? Perhaps Jesus sat in the midst of them listening to them and seeing and sensing their tiredness, and perhaps his own - this we don't read of - Mark gives us the brief facts and leaves us to use our imaginations. What he does tell us is that Jesus says "Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while" - Jesus who promises rest to all who are weary. Jesus leads them, withdraws with them to a deserted place to rest and recuperate - like a shepherd leading his sheep to safety.
But they were not to be by themselves for very long, very soon the word was out that Jesus was nearby and we hear of the crowds hurrying there ahead of him - drawn to Jesus like a magnet.
And here we see the contrast between Jesus' desire for solitude for himself and his disciples and the crowds whom he observes as a flock without a shepherd. It is the crowds rather than the disciples who become the object of his concern; before making time for himself and his disciples he will attend to their needs.
Few can handle interruptions with grace like Jesus as is demonstrated in this account and we can trust that He is never put off by any of our interruptions either.
In a world where our priorities are not necessarily seen by others as theirs, Jesus sees them as just that, just as he did with the crowds that followed him wherever he went, who just wanted to be near him and to touch the fringe of his cloak.
And we who are so often put out by delays, interruptions and crowds can trust that we, just like them, will be the object of his concern.
The writer of the gospel of Mark does not tell us much about the crowds - were they a diverse group of individuals of different ages, occupations and genders pretty much like the crowds we are part of in departure lounges? This crowd's common denominator was their shared desire, one might even say their shared pre-occupation for healing.
The depth of what Jesus felt for them we cannot know, we cannot experience - it certainly went much deeper than sorrow for their predicament, they who felt their need for physical healing. Jesus however saw their deeper need, their spiritual hunger, their emptiness. He felt for them what no human can feel - the heart of God incarnate moved to reach out in tenderness.
In Jesus we see the fullness of God's compassion and we too are invited to come, like the frantic crowd to touch the fringe of Jesus' cloak and to not only sing "The Lord is my Shepherd: therefore can I lack nothing", we are invited to feel it deeply within our hearts deep within us.
The disciples who witnessed and experienced this encounter and the many other instances of their observing Jesus' compassion will have left them with such powerful experiences to recall and use as exemplary models to follow, albeit within their human limitations. They will have witnessed that compassion is not a behaviour, not a skill to be mastered; they will have witnessed that compassion is a way of being, a divine gift given by God.
These disciples are among those who provided the foundations of God's household - with Christ the cornerstone. The household of God that Yahway promised with the restoration of David's dynasty following the justice foretold for the kings - the 'bad shepherds' who had scattered His sheep as we heard in our lesson from Jeremiah.
Yes, all who believe are now 'in Christ', not lost sheep but one new humanity established by the death of Jesus Christ. This is the good news that the disciples were to take into the world on their mission.
Down the centuries men and women have followed in the footsteps of the disciples, living their lives, responding to God's call, as the disciples responded to Jesus' call, to follow and trust that the Lord is their shepherd and they followed the charge to 'be compassionate as your Father is compassionate'.
We know the names of many who did and there are many, many more of whom we don't. Not everyone is or has been called as St Frances or Mother Theresa were, they were called to live extra ordinary lives devoted to God. But Henri Nouwen suggests that "everyone must live with the deep conviction that God acts in her or his life in an equally unique way" and everyone must respond to their call.
We are urged to listen and respond to the call from Jesus who wants to lead us to God in order that we can enjoy the same intimacy as he does. And we are invited to be no less compassionate than Jesus, 'in and through' Him. Jesus invites us to share a way of living together with fellow Christians in God's household where we experience Christ in the midst of our sorrows.
It is through prayer that we learn to listen for the call, to be in tune, and in so doing are brought closer to God and each other. And our growing intimacy with God deepens our sense of responsibility for others; Henri Nouwen talks of prayer as 'the beat of a compassionate heart'.
The Lord is my Shepherd: therefore can I lack nothing.
The young man on duty on the information desk at Gatwick airport on Friday evening would have welcomed travellers with compassionate hearts as he wrote out vouchers for refreshments to placate the frustrated and often angry passengers awaiting their delayed flight north.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
Sermon by: Christine Barclay