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What is this that I hear about you? Give me an account of your management. (Luke 16: 2)

How many times have we listened to rumours about someone or something without checking the facts or speaking to the person themselves?  In some strange way there is something attractive about a rumour. We can elaborate on it or embellish it particularly if we do not like the person anyway or they have hurt us in some way in the past.  After all, will anyone actually believe that the rumour is true? We have only to look from time to time at the headlines of our newspapers to see which famous celebrity might be having a public dispute with another. Do we really need to know the intimate details?

The parable of the Unjust Steward is one about which no less a biblical authority than Augustine is said to have remarked “I can’t believe this story came from the lips of our Lord”. This story appears only in Luke; even Luke appears to be troubled by it.  Some scholars believe that Luke added a few clarifying verses at the end.  Luke has Jesus say that we cannot love God and money. This may be true but how does this really relate to the parable?

Here we come to what may be the theological heart of this story. The unjust steward forgives. He forgives things he has no right to forgive. He forgives for all the wrong reasons; for personal gain and to compensate for past behaviour. This is the message in this strange parable; go ahead, forgive it all, forgive it now, and forgive for good and for selfish reasons, or for no reason whatsoever.

This uniquely Lukan parable is generally considered one of the most difficult passages in the Gospel. The difficulty pertains primarily to the endorsement of the actions of the “unjust” household manager by his master and seemingly even by Jesus.

Some of the key motifs that occur in the parable of “the Prodigal Son” re-appear here. The unjust manager in this parable is somewhat similar to the prodigal son. The same Greek word that is employed to describe the prodigal son’s squandering of his wealth (diaskorpizo) is used to describe the charges against the manager. The term has the connotation of careless or irresponsible spending. Both the son and the manager are responsible for (or have been charged with) actions that result in huge financial loss. The respective responses to their squandering distinguish the two parables. The father forgives the son and welcomes him back to the household joyfully, but the master dismisses the manager without verifying that the charges against him are true, or even giving him an opportunity to offer an explanation.

Given the unforgiving nature of the master’s response, the story should have been called the parable of the “Unforgiving Master”. In short, the parable of the Prodigal Son emphasises forgiveness and love for the lost. It sheds light on the nature of relationships in a context where God plays a central role. In contrast, our parable today is more about some of the defining characteristics of human relationships and how they work themselves out.

We are called to be faithful, to act with integrity, to be honest. Above all, to love one another and to forgive. May God give us the strength to do this.

Oh God, from whom all good proceeds; Grant that by your inspiration we may think those things that are right, and by your merciful guiding may do them; through Jesus Christ our Lord.

It’s surprising how much religious controversy there is on social media. Reading today’s Epistle, it sounds almost as though St Paul anticipated this, for he tells Timothy to warn the members of his congregation

…that they are to avoid wrangling over words, which does no good but only ruins those who are listening.

And it’s true that too much theological argument never gets above the level of wrangling over words. Yet the corner of cyberspace that you might call Anglican Twitter can be quite rewarding. At the moment, there is a passionate but well-informed debate about the rights and wrongs of the idea that theologians call Universalism, the idea that in the end everyone will, having undergone the judgement of God, accept God’s mercy and forgiveness. To put it another way, the idea that Hell will be empty. It’s a minority view and that’s hardly surprising. Forgiveness for Hitler? For Stalin? For Vladimir Putin? That would be a very tall order and it shocks our instinctive belief that bad behaviour should be punished, and that punishments should, as W.S. Gilbert famously put it, “fit the crime”.

The Mikado’s aim in that song was, of course, innocent merriment, and those familiar with the lyrics will remember that he proposed sending one category of offenders to church:

All prosy dull society sinners

Who chatter and bleat and bore

Are sent to hear sermons

From mystical Germans

Who preach from ten till four.

Many lengthy sermons have been preached on this issue, but this isn’t going to be one of them. The simple answer is that we don’t know how the judgement and the mercy of God operate, and what the relationship between them is. We shall have to wait and see. And it’s important to remember that our theological preferences probably tell us much more about ourselves than they do about the Almighty. My inclination towards universalism may be rooted in the fact that no-one has ever done anything really cruel or terrible either to me or to those whom I love. Another person’s insistence that there has to be everlasting punishment for heinous wrongdoing may well be rooted in unimaginably appalling experiences.

That said, we need to ask whether our human instinct to want punishment and retribution is necessarily a good instinct. We all have a tendency to draw boundaries, to think in terms of “us” and “them” and to project that kind of thinking into our religious beliefs.

As Scotland’s national bard memorably put it:

O ye wha are sae guid yoursel',

Sae pious and sae holy,

Ye've nought to do but mark and tell

Your neibours' fauts and folly!

You won’t find easy answers to the debate about universalism in the New Testament.           At times, Jesus speaks of a judgement in which people will be divided into sheep and goats, and he also speaks vividly of the punishment that God will mete out to the selfish – think, for example, of the parable of Dives and Lazarus. At other times, he speaks of a God who is lovingly forgiving of folly and wickedness – remember the parable of the Prodigal Son. It might be helpful also to consider Jesus’ actions as well as his words, and today’s Gospel offers an opportunity to do that. It’s a healing miracle and it suggests that the love of God is unquestioning and indiscriminate and reaches across human boundaries.

We find Jesus and his disciples in the frontier region between Galilee (which was definitely their home territory) and Samaria (which was definitely not). They are journeying in an in-between place, on the margin between two cultures and two ways of believing. In that marginal place, Jesus and his disciples encounter a group of lepers – people rendered homeless and helpless by disease, people who are themselves marginalised. The lepers even feel the need to keep their distance from Jesus when they ask for his help.

Jesus’ response to them is interesting. He asks no questions of them. He is indifferent to the lives that they led before they fell ill. He doesn’t attempt to assess whether they deserve to be healed. He is also clearly aware that not all of them are Jewish. The instruction that he gives them is “Go and show yourselves to the priests” – plural – in other words the Samaritan leper is being encouraged to seek out a Samaritan priest. So boundaries have been crossed – Jesus reaching out to heal marginalized people, regardless of their behaviour, their race or indeed their religious beliefs. The Samaritan praises God and gives thanks for the healing he has experienced. And that is a double healing – for he has not only been cured of leprosy, but he – the foreigner, the religious outsider - has been accepted, praised and affirmed by Jesus.

So our Gospel is a reminder that the frontiers, borders and boundaries that we humans are so good at creating mean nothing to God. We are also reminded that we are called to be thankful together. The togetherness part of that is hugely important, because we aren’t in church to secure our individual salvation. We are here to commit to a process in which God will bring the whole of creation to perfection. The whole of creation – and that might just turn out to include people whom we regard as appalling, unforgiveable villains.

We are called to be thankful together, and today’s Gospel is a useful reminder of that, for when we read that the leper thanked Jesus, the Greek word that Luke uses is Euchariston – and the early Christians who listened to the Gospel in Greek would have made that connection to the Eucharist when they heard this passage. Out of our Eucharist, out of our thankfulness that we are included in God’s love, there should arise an awareness that, at least potentially, everyone else is too. How that works in individual cases remains a mystery and judgement is not our job.

Robert Burns put that well in the final stanza of Address to the Unco Guid

Who made the heart, 'tis He alone

Decidedly can try us;

He knows each chord, its various tone,

Each spring, its various bias:

Then at the balance let's be mute,

We never can adjust it;

What's done we partly may compute,

But know not what's resisted.

All good gifts around us
are sent from heaven above; then thank the Lord,
O thank the Lord for all his love.

Familiar words, and words that we will sing this morning as we metaphorically; ‘Plough the fields and scatter’.

When was the last time you saw a field being ploughed? For some of us I suspect it was a while ago and the closest we are likely to get to scattering seed are the seeds we sow in the hope they will germinate and find a home in our gardens.

Decades ago as a society we lived closer to the land. We might have known farmers and we would have certainly been more in tune with the cycle of the seasons in relation to what we could eat. As a teenager I used to look forward to the late Spring arrival of asparagus and trying to make the most of it as I knew its

presence in the shops would be brief. Today, I can buy asparagus at anytime of the year, flown in from over half way around the world and lacking in taste. Just because we can do something does not mean that we should do it. Think of the carbon footprint that asparagus has before it reaches our mouths. Is that taste worth the price our planet has to pay?

I follow on ‘instagram’ a friend of a friend of a friend who is an organic farmer in Herefordshire. It is fascinating to see his farm over the 12 months of the year and how this year he has struggled with flooding, too cold a spring for germination and the recent over hot weather. As a result his Winter planting of wheat has done well but the Spring planting was as he said; ‘Not worth harvesting!’.

The changes in our climate are playing havoc with our harvests, not only at home but around the world. A recent book published suggests that we have 60 harvests left if we don’t address the climate crisis NOW. But, also suggests that there is great hope for the future if we do change our ways. (Perhaps some of the

obscene profits made by our energy companies at our cost, could be ploughed into new eco- friendly alternatives to carbon based fuels, hopefully bringing energy costs down and substation ally reducing our carbon foot print every time we cook a meal of turn a light on.)

I find it sobering to think that, if we do nothing or not enough then within my life-time there will be very few opportunities to give thanks to God for the Harvest left.

Giving thanks or rather NOT giving thanks is, I feel, part of the problem. The food we eat and the fuel we use, we take for granted. What we are doing this morning might appear bizarre to many people outside these walls. Giving thanks to God for our food? Don’t be daft? God doesn’t exist and even if God does then its not God who gives us the harvest its ourselves who do so. And, there is the problem! We are all too self-obsessed as a society and think ourselves to be ‘God’ rather than be thankful to God.

The Harvest should not be taken for granted, even atheist farmers would agree with that

statement and I believe if we were more truly thankful to God or Nature or simply planet Earth itself we might as the human race respect the planet more and be truly thankful that we are fed and watered as we are.

Those of us here today, obviously value the Harvest and are thankful to God for the gift of food that he provides for us. We are no doubt also grateful to those who farm the land and those who produce the eventual products we consume. We have so many and so much to be thankful for at Harvest but let us never forget God from whom it all comes:

“9 And God said, ‘Let the waters under the sky be gathered together into one place, and let the dry land appear.’ And it was so. 10God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered together he called Seas. And God saw that it was good. 11Then God said, ‘Let the earth put forth vegetation: plants yielding seed, and fruit trees of every kind on earth that bear fruit with the seed in it.’ And it was so. 12The earth brought forth vegetation: plants yielding seed of every kind, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed in it. And God saw that it was good. 13And there was evening and there was morning, the third day.”  Genesis 1:9-13

God it is who created the Earth and all that we enjoy upon in and in it. If nothing else the Book of Genesis makes it plain that all we have is finely balanced in the being of God and our rôle as God’s chosen ones is to care for the Earth and to be good stewards of its resources. Not to take and take and take without any regard to others or the future. We need to be more thankful as a society and as the human race. Thankful for what we have and what we can share, even if some of us are not thankful to the God we believe creates it all.

Thankfulness engenders respect for those who give things to us and respect engenders care and so on. In this Harvest season try to take time to truly give thanks to God for the Harvest and to encourage others to do so as well. If nothing else say the grace at your dinner table today and pause to allow those sitting with you a cane to be thankful as well. If

not today then try this coming month to say the grace when you do eat with others - you never know what effect it might have on them and if nothing else it might make them thankful for what they are about to receive and acknowledge the debt we owe to those who ensure we are fed.

“⁷for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it…’ 1Timothy 6:7

How often have you heard those words? They are commonly used at the beginning of a funeral to remind us that we come from God and return to God; and as such need nothing in the way goods and chattels to make ourselves complete in God’s presence. When we have gone what is left of us are our possessions but hopefully more than that, the good memories of our deeds and actions.

Throughout our lives many of us acquire ‘things’ that can make life a little more bearable or comfortable. That may be the pictures we hang on our walls, the clothes we wear or the savings that enable us to do things out of the ordinary routine of our lives. Those of us who have such things are fortunate and we should remember so as not everyone will be as lucky as we are. Some, often, through circumstance, have a lot less than they might need or like. Those who spend their lives worrying about how to pay their bills or to put food on the table. Fortunate are we if we do not have these worries.

The fact that we can’t take it with us, as Paul reminds us should act as an encouragement to us to always seek to share what we have been blessed with, with others. As Christians we are taught to support charities that are dear to our hearts, organisations that seek to improve the lives of our brothers and sisters across the world and to provide for future generations in the ‘seeds’ we plant now, knowing that we will never see them flower. Those who built this church do such.

The early residents of Murrayfield wished to see an Episcopal church in this bit of the city, which was originally little more than a village on the outskirts. They met for worship in the local reading room and then in a ‘flat-pack’ corrugated iron church (from the Church Ikea of its day) on the site we occupy today. Their dream was this stone building and 15 years later it came to be. Some of the original members did not live to see the dream come true but they gave of their ‘treasures’ to ensure that it did arise to serve the people of this community. On this Sunday of ‘Open Doors’ in Edinburgh we rightly give thanks for the vision of our founding mothers and fathers and rejoice that they asked Lorimer to design and build this wee gem of a sacred space.

Over the intervening decades previous members have sought to ensure that the mission and ministry of the church in Murrayfield flourished and continued and we do the same today, not only for the current community but for the community of the future as well. We and our ancestors may not be able to take it with us but we can and have used what we were given to bless subsequent generations.

As a building our church has changed. It was never completed for a start and today is the perfect size for our needs. Our developing plans of ‘generosity’ to the local community and to our congregation will I hope see greater use of this beautiful space in coming months and years. I hope that our response to God’s prompting will see this building as a place with ever open doors, welcoming all God’s people into its sanctuary and enabling them to begin or to continue a journey with God.

The story of our church and congregation has always been one of vision, hope and generosity. Members have long sought to share what they have and to give to enable others to live better lives and to encounter the living God in worship. Over the next few weeks you will be asked to think about your giving and how you might support this congregation now and the congregations in the coming years. Let us build on the generosity of the past and us ether gifts and talents we are blessed with to keep the doors of this congregation and its church always and ever open.

Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me (John 14:1)

Who could have imagined the outpouring of public grief this past week? It has at times been overwhelming. We have all, in different ways, been caught up in the drama and emotion of this momentous event – the loss of a beloved Queen.  In our conversations, on social media and in the newspapers, we cannot avoid it. We have seen the private grief of our royal family being lived out so publicly with such dignity and respect.

Let me share briefly three unexpected encounters this past week. You will have your own.

The first was at a bus stop. A young boy on his own suddenly turned and started talking to me. He told me that the Queen had died. He was sad. More so he was hoping that she would have lived to being 100 years old as he would have got the day off school. There was something rather touching about that.

The second was at the allotment. A longstanding friend told me she had watched the dignified Service of Thanksgiving last Friday evening from St Paul’s Cathedral. What had moved her most was the singing of the Nunc Dimittis at the end. At that moment she was transported back to her own mother’s funeral and all the memories which flooded in.

The third was at St Giles’ Cathedral. I had queued for around 4.45 hours and entered the building around 1.10am on Tuesday morning.  I was unsure what to expect or how I would feel. You can ask me later. What I did notice was that some people stood still, some bowed, some curtsied. Others saluted; prayed and perhaps most moving of all  -  blew a kiss. These were all very personal and heartfelt reactions at this most historic occasion.   

What I also noticed was the presence of Queen’s Chaplains in their distinctive red cassocks who kept constant vigil throughout. When I there we all stopped. They got up and started reading from St John’s gospel beginning with the words “Let not your hearts be troubled”. This same reading was read later during the service at Westminster Hall to begin the formal lying-in state and also here today.

In her latter years the Queen often spoke directly and more personally about her Christian faith. This included: -

“I know just how much I rely on my own faith to guide me through the good times and the bad. Each day is a new beginning, I know that the only way to live my life is to try to do what is right, to take the long view, to give of my best in all that the day brings, and to put my trust in God” (2002)

“Billions of people now follow Christ’s teaching and find in him the guiding light in their lives. I am one of them because Christ’s example helps me see the value of doing small things with great love, whoever does them and whatever they themselves believe” (2016).

Let us give thanks for a long life, well lived; for all that she meant to us and for the hope of glory that awaits us all.

O God, the maker and redeemer of all mankind, grant us, with thy servant Queen Elizabeth and all the faithful departed, the sure benefits of thy Son’s saving passion and glorious resurrection; that in the last day, when all things are gathered up in Christ, we may with them enjoy the fullness of thy promises; through Jesus Christ our Lord.