SECOND SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST 2015 MARK 3:20-35

Now, you know those nauseating religious types don’t you? Those people who have had amazing conversion experiences and are so full of excitement and joy

that they have to tell everyone? No matter what you’re talking about, they are always trying to turn the conversation around to God? You know how nervous they make you feel? You know how when you see them coming down the street you duck into a shop doorway, or pretend you haven’t noticed them? Well, I’m here to tell you today that I used to be one of those Christians. It’s not that I was wrong, it’s not that I regret my zeal. After all, my motives were good. I loved God and I loved the people I was harassing, at least I thought I did. But I was convinced that showing them my love meant being disrespectful of their time, privacy and their own convictions – convictions that I never even bothered to listen to. It’s just that I thought it was better to be rude and impose the truth on them than to let them blindly grope their way through their dark lives of ignorance and unbelief. Now, as I look back on the months after my conversion to Christ at the age of fifteen I cringe with embarrassment as I remember some of my over- zealous attempts at sharing my new-found faith with people. But I also see God’s hand at work in me, even if his other hand was holding his head as he watched me in disbelief.

Now there were a handful of people who were the main targets of my mission to convert the world. My family. And here is where my embarrassment turns to penitence, because, really, who needs a fifteen year-old telling you that your faith is dead and your religious life a sham? Well not my mum and dad. Especially my dad. For him my zeal was.... (Read the full Sermon here: http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3208251/20150607_Nobody_understands_me.pdf)