SECOND SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST 2016 LUKE 7:1-10 At 5pm on the last Sunday of August 2003 Tim, Alex, Rob and I stepped off a Boeing 737 at Grand Rapids International Airport, visas in our hands, disorientation in our brains, butterflies in our stomachs, but adventure in our hearts. At that moment we became the newest immigrants to this country. Just the latest names in a roll call that stretches back 400 years and across every tribe and nation. Like the countless millions before us we landed with hopes and fears, intrigue and suspicion, excitement and apprehension.

At the apex of my mountain of concerns was the sobering fact that I did not know where we were staying that night. We would be met by a church member who would take us to our accommodation 50 miles away in the small town of Fremont – the community that would be home for the next seven years. At the summit of my boys' peak of anxieties was what would happen the next day. The first day of school. I said it was 5pm, but add the five hours difference between time zones, it was really 10pm for my mountaineers and it would take another three hours to drive to Fremont, become briefly acquainted with our home, and get to bed. Of course, they needn't have worried about the next day; partly because this small Midwestern town found the unexpected arrival of three boys with Harry Potter accents exotic beyond belief. Another reason they needn't have feared the heights of this adventure was the seismic difference in school culture. Compared to what they were familiar with in the UK, Fremont Public Schools were gentle and egalitarian. More like strolling through the foothills than scaling lofty heights. In that first week we gazed dumbstruck as the Middle School Principal issued a 'Hey, Buddy' and a high five to a passing student. No uniform, no intimidation, no chasm between teachers and pupils. "Dad, this isn't school, it's a theme park. Yeah, Dad. How come we didn't move here years ago?"

I soon learned that the... (Read the full Sermon here: Mountain Due )