This week's readings are James 2.1-17 and Mark 7.24-37. These readings speak to the heart of my vision for our church. I long for us to be a community in which all are welcome, included, valued, and loved.

James makes it quite clear that a church should be marked by that inclusivity. He uses the issue of the treatment of the rich and the poor. Perhaps that was a presenting issue for those he was writing to, which would make sense. This very early church was a place where rich and poor were mixing in new ways, with a freshly assumed equality - but in the context of a culture that made vast distinctions and wouldn't be used to it. James is calling them to exceed their social expectations, and to embrace the equality at the heart of the gospel - that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and yet all have been invited back to the table of forgiveness and mercy.

It is that broader point he builds towards - recognising that if they can't get even this one thing right - making everyone equally welcome - then the whole lot goes out the window, and they will never be the expression of the Kingdom that they are called to. That opening out releases us to consider the question not only in the context of the early church, but in our own day - what are the value judgements and distinctions we apply in our own encounters with people, and in our churches? Do we still make divisive decisions over affluence, education, gender, sexuality, ability, neurodivergence, etc.? Are there things we can do to diminish the prejudices we carry, and broaden the welcome we give?

There is a slight risk in a shallow reading of James alone that these questions can lead us to treating everybody the same. Which might sound great - but actually isn't, I don't believe, what the Kingdom of God is about. If God has created a universe of dynamic creativity and diversity, surely His intention is for that diversity to be glorious, treasured, and honoured? Surely an inclusive, welcoming, diverse community doesn't look at everybody and ignore their differences, but notes them, and honours them?

Jesus, in this gospel reading from Mark, gives us some great examples of what that can look like. We have two moments of encounter - both with people in need, but both dealt with in very particular, individual ways. The encounter with the Syrophoenician woman can be read in so many ways, dependent almost entirely upon the tone of voice you put in Jesus' mouth. Today, though, I want to suggest that the words Jesus speaks to her, "Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children's food and throw it to the dogs," are not a rebuttal or an insult, but an invitation. They expose the contemporary narrative about her as a 'foreigner' and a woman, and invite her to challenge it. They give her an opportunity to not be the cursed, lowly, despised one taking only what scraps are offered, but to stand instead in a moment of strength, in opposition to the stories that diminish her, and to proclaim her value. When she takes that step, she finds in Jesus an affirmation of her value, an acceptance of the truth she discovers about herself - she leaves him not only to find her daughter healed, but healed herself. Jesus doesn't treat anyone else that way, just her, because - maybe - it was only her that needed it.

Then he goes on to meet a man in need of physical healing - something he does day in, day out it seems. But this one is deaf, and unable to speak, so Jesus meets him just there. He reaches out, puts his fingers in the man's ears, spits, and touches the man's tongue... he communicates with him physically, not verbally, because that's where and who that man is. God, in the encounter, is not fazed by the difference, doesn't see someone who is diminished - but sees someone he can encounter in a way particular to them, and so that's what he does.

We're trying. As a church, we're trying - from visual timetables in our service booklets, through subtly placed reassurances of inclusion, to looking at changing how we're furnished to make it easier for a wheelchair to be in the midst of a congregation, or spaces to be cultivated for neurodivergence and other gifts - but we're obviously not as perfect as Jesus, and we're not going to get everything right. So please, please, if there is anything we can think of that will help us open our community wider, and make our invitation into God's Kingdom broader, don't keep it to yourself but make it known.