When I was a child my family spent some time in Scotland. I remember when we visited one of the woollen mills where tartan fabric is made, and I remember watching the massive industrial looms at work. A huge frame held the warp threads firmly while contrasting coloured weft threads were fed in and out with the shuttle. I remember being impressed by the speed at which spools of coloured wool at one end of the loom grew into strips of completed tartan fabric at the other end. I also remember the figure we four little blond haired girls cut in our matching red tartan skirts, home made knitted jumpers and black patent leather shoes.

Two of my sisters took up weaving while they were at school - one made a set of placemats that we used for years at home, and the other sister wove wall hangings which depicted native Australian birds. My mother tells me there is still a loom in their garage. One Christmas at Rueschlikon Swedish friends showed me how to make woven paper Christmas decorations - we cut part way through two folded contrasting squares of coloured paper, threaded them through each other somehow and snipped off the corners so they became heart shaped baskets to hang on the Christmas tree. Recently Ben brought home some weaving he had done at Pre-school: a very simple exercise to develop fine motor skills by weaving strips of paper in and out of another. At the “Celebrating our stories” conference we were given the opportunity to make something from various art and craft options that represented an aspect of our own personal spiritual journey. One of the women there wove a piece of fabric, using strips of material and tapestry wool as well as small sticks and flowers.

So weaving is a craft which spans all sorts of levels of skill, equipment and knowledge. From preschool through to fabric mills the same principles are in operation: opposing lines of thread or wool or paper or other material which are interlocked to form a new construction. The mesh, or web, that is formed is stronger than the parts in their separate state. Depending on what is it made from and how it is made the new construction can be utilitarian or decorative, or may even be the basis for another creation.

It is the weaver who determines the final outcome: the weaver must do the work of making the warp threads strong, of choosing the materials and designing the final outcome. In many places and throughout history materials have been woven in distinctive patterns which have emphasised a particular identity. I mentioned the tartans before - most people who have a Scottish name know which of the tartans is theirs - the Sutherland tartan, the McKillop tartan, the Campbell tartan. The Sanyu family from Nagaland are mentioned in our bulletin today. Do you remember how proudly they wore their clothes: made from traditional Naga woven fabric and patterns? Many indigenous cultures have their own distinctive woven patterns. Weaving is not only useful for clothing though, other things are woven too - baskets, mats and other artifacts. Knitting, tapestry and collage are crafts worked at in a similar manner: diverse elements are brought together in such a way that something new is formed.

When weaving and garment making are mentioned in the bible it is usually described as work done by women. So we have the ideal capable wife of Proverbs 31, a woman who "seeks wool and flax, and works with willing hands, whose hands hold the spindle, who makes coverings and linen garments." And we have Delilah weaving the locks of Samson's hair into her loom, only to find that his strength was stronger than the strength of the web she had woven. A number of women in the early church, such as Lydia and Dorcas, were remembered for their profession as cloth makers. We are told in Exodus that beautiful embroidered cloth was made for the furnishing of the tabernacle. But for the most part weaving cloth was part of the household duties, part of the ordinary things of life.

So it may come as a surprise to find God spoken of as a weaver as in the Psalm we read together earlier in the service.

The image is of God weaving flesh and features onto the frame of bones and sinews. The work is done in secret, although the weaver knows the pattern and the outcome. And this is nothing ordinary. What results is a wonderful and surprising gift - a new creation. Children are born all the time. But even so, whenever a child is born there is wonder and delight: that from two tiny cells such an intricate being has been formed: a new and complete human being with physical, mental and spiritual dimensions. Even now when we know to a large extent the physical process of conception and growth in the womb, there is still a sense of wonder as we contemplate the process. The poetic and artistic language of the psalmist is still an entirely appropriate description of the work of God in bringing forth life. At "Celebrating our Stories" we sat under a banner proclaiming in a quotation from Max Lucardo that each of us is "a divine work of art signed by God" - and each of these unique works of art are a gift to the world.

I have spoken of the work resulting from weaving as a "web". Some of the great weavers of the natural world are spiders. Now some of you know that I don't have a strong affinity for these creatures. I have a cartoon up near the computer in the office saying "I'm impressed by the world wide web, but I can't help wondering about the world wide spider." But in fact I am far more tolerant of spiders that have webs than those that don't. If there is a web I have a pretty good idea of where the spider will be! Have you ever watched a spider building a web? They can start on one surface and move across a gap to span the difference with thread created from their own bodies. Back and forwards they go, a little like a shuttle in a loom, closing the gap with the fine mesh of threads. Amongst one of the North American Indian cultures are myths describing their creator as a "spider woman" or "spinster" (one who spins!). It sounds unusual to our Judeo-Christian ears, but perhaps is not so far from what we would understand the qualities of the creator to have. The ability to create out of itself a means of spanning the gaps. Crossing the distance to touch us with life.

The life-giving touch of God is seen in the passage we read from the gospel of Matthew. In all three of the synoptic gospels these two stories are woven together - the healing of an official's daughter and the healing of the woman with the flow of blood. These stories may originally have been linked because of the common element of 12 years. In the versions in Mark's gospel and Luke's gospel we are told the official's daughter is 12 years old. Each of the versions tell us that the woman’s illness had been for 12 years. In effect, a lifetime! For the woman it must have felt like a lifetime. Because of her constant flow of blood the woman was unclean. According to the Levitical law she couldn’t be part of the congregation of the “holy people”. She wouldn't have been allowed near the place of worship, and anything she touched would also be considered unclean. So her action in touching the edge of Jesus' cloak was quite audacious. It seems she thought there was power in that cloak. Certainly the robe of Jesus can be and has been an important symbol. In the gospel of John we are told that the soldiers who crucified Jesus drew lots for his cloak, as it was a seamless garment and therefore worth preserving in its complete state. Its wholeness, completion, became symbol of the wholeness of Jesus. His body was being broken, but the garment which represented all he owned was valued for its wholeness. When in her desperation this woman touched the cloak of Jesus - making him unclean - she was reaching for the wholeness that he represented. And as the story wonderfully tells us, he didn't reject her - in fact with his words to her he “encouraged” her. "Take heart" as we read is often translated "have courage." His touch, his look, his words, brought her wholeness where before she had been excluded from her society because of her inability to have a life of holiness.

Her story was interwoven with that of the official's daughter - another account of Jesus interacting with what was ritually unclean. Dead bodies were also not to be touched. But the young girl too was brought back to life by the touch of Jesus. The touch that reaches across the gap of tradition, the gap of cultic restrictions, the touch that interweaves a desire for wholeness together with suffering to make something new.

God as a weaver creates in secret, brings new and surprising forms to life, brings wholeness where lives are broken. Another work of the weaver is to weave us together, the community of the church. Just as a weaver draws together disparate threads and forms a strong web, so God works to bring together different people to make a complete community. Whether this happens quickly or slowly does not really matter, as long as the work in progress keeps growing and changing. Any time that we welcome new members into our church, then, is an occasion for joy. When we do this we also affirm again our mission statement, that we want to be an open and caring community. Welcoming new members forces us to be open to change, may in fact make us a little apprehensive. Who knows what influence they will have on our church in the future? But the Church is not our creation, it is the work of God. We might like the pattern we see now, but we must be open to the possibility of it changing. Our responsibility is to accept the new strands God places in our loom with faith in God’s good design.

At the end of the week I got hold of a song called "Weave, weave." I received it too late to use in our order of service today, but the words of the chorus are printed on the front of the bulletin. The first verse says "We are many textures, we are many colours, each one different from the other. But we are joined together in one great tapestry."

Let's celebrate our differences, and the unique contribution each makes to the overall design. And may our prayer continue to be that God who knows the whole picture will weave us together in unity and love.

As we now prepare to accept Lindsay into the membership of our church, let us sing together a hymn that celebrates the diversity of life which can be drawn into wholeness by our weaver God.