Sermons at Glen Ayr

2010-10-09T10:03:00.003-04:00

Dear friends -

October is the 50th anniversary month at Glen Ayr, and there will be some guest preachers for most of the Sundays, so this sermon will likely be the last until November 7th.

From November 14, I will be posting from Humber United Church in Corner Brook, Newfoundland. I have accepted a call to Humber and am in the process of packing and getting ready for the move.

Many thanks for your comments so far, and I hope to continue hearing from you.

Fran Ota

A Life of Gratitude A sermon based on Deuteronomy 8:7-18, and Luke 17:11-19 Thanksgiving Sunday October 10, 2010 Glen Ayr United Church

2010-10-09T10:00:00.002-04:00

Deuteronomy 8:7-18 For God brings you to a good land, with flowing streams, waters in valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, olive trees and honey; you eat bread whenever you wish, where you lack nothing. You shall eat and bless for the good land. Take care that you do not forget God, or fail to keep God’s laws. When you have eaten, built your homes to live in, and you have all that you need each day, do not exalt yourself, forgetting God, who brought you out from Egypt, from slavery, led you through the terrible wilderness, made water flow, and fed you with manna that your ancestors did not know, to test you, and to do you good. Do not say to yourself, "My own power has got this for me.”

Luke 17:11-19 On the way to Jerusalem Jesus went through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, "Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" When he saw them, he said, "Go, show yourselves to the priests." As they went, they were made clean. One of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He bowed at Jesus' feet and thanked him. This one was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, "Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" Then he said, "Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well."
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The Feast of Shavuot in the Jewish calendar follows Passover, but comes before Pentecost. On the day after Passover, a sheaf of new wheat or corn is waved over the altar, as a sign of gratitude to God for bestowing blessings. At Pentecost two loaves of leavened bread made from the new wheat are waved over the altar. All the first fruits are to be offered to God. “You shall bring the first fruits of your land to the house of Hashem, your God.”
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Autumn is my favorite season of the year--especially with the kind of autumn weather we’ve been having recently. All of the seasons have their charm, of course: I love the spring, watching all the new things come up once again, the pale lacy trees as the leaves just begin to come; I love summer, even if I spend some of the time grousing about the heat; and the winter, if there is enough snow. But autumn is my favourite - the lighter air, the clear blue skies, bright colours, a difference to the quality of the sunshine. There is an explosion of colors.

Thinking about our autumn, consider what a contrast it is to the treeless desert in which we find Jesus and the group on their journey in today’s story.

Luke’s text takes place in a "liminal space". The word liminal comes from the Latin for limnus, meaning "doorway". Jesus and the followers met the lepers in a region between Samaria and Galilee - they were neither in one place or the other. So they were in a place that was neither here not there, a place of transition, in a place of possible danger, but also a place of incredible opportunity.

Most of the time there isn't a soul seen for miles. Jesus and the twelve and all the various family members have been on the road for weeks. The kids are cranky, the women beginning to despair, the men no longer even talking to each other. Nothing left to talk about. Just more heat, dust, and desert.

On the horizon, they see a collection of mud- baked, one-room hovels clumped around a small watering hole. Still in the distance, Jesus thinks he can make out the shapes of moving figures. But you know how eyes play tricks when overexposed to intense light, and the heat which rises off the hot land. Mirages. At first, it almost looks like a herd of animals, maybe desert jackals. But the shape and the pace are strange. Some hobble. Others limp.

It turns out that the figures are ten human beings, all in thick, black wool tunics. They hang around just outside the village walls, and Jesus knows instinctively that they are lepers. Despised by everyone, cast out by everyone. You know them too - the ones who panhandle on streets corners that we make judgments about without even knowing them;, the ones who are passed out on the floor of busy subway terminals, whose clothing reeks of old food, sweat, alcohol and urine. Can't miss lepers. They're easy to pick out.

Not all those who were called lepers actually had leprosy - what we now call Hanson's Disease. Any skin condition - psoriasis, lupus, ringworm, anything - was enough to remove people from the community for life. What did they feel like, being pushed outside the community by their own tradition. Humiliated, sneered at, no reason to go on. Used as object lessons about sin. Charity cases. Hopeless. Subhuman. Proof that God elects some for higher purposes and others for destruction. Sinners, outsiders, worthless.

What would it be like to be avoided as one who spread a dread disease, to live with the fact that no one in the community will be willing to come close, no home of their own, no chance at employment, reduced by circumstances often outside their control, to the life of a beggar on the streets. What would it be like to be judged all the time, to have assumptions made about you, to be treated as less than human?

Jewish law said that these lepers were never to enter the villages, they must coverr their face and shout out "Unclean, Unclean." They were forced to walk around with hair disheveled and clothes ripped. The law said they must live alone, outside the community. Even if they were to recover, the law prescribed a specific cleansing ritual that had to be obeyed to the "T."

The ten knew exactly how far away to stand, so they stood just within hearing distance and yelled, " Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!" Who told these outcasts about Jesus? Maybe they had caught wind of another leper that Jesus had healed. However it happened, they knew, and there they were asking Jesus for help - meaning they needed money and food. But they also needed some kind of deliverance for the hand they had been dealt by life.

"Go show yourselves to the priests," Jesus yells back. Now, note that both Jesus and the lepers are performing according to the laws of their tradition. Lepers were supposed to beg for mercy, and Jesus instructs them to follow tradition's procedures for lepers who received cures. "Go and show yourselves to the priests." The announcement could only mean one thing - they were healed.

So they went to find the local priest, as they discovered that they were healed, and hurry to begin the purification ritual. Except one. In the midst of dashing back to the town, he screeches to a halt. He realizes that right out there in the dusty back roads of eastern Palestine, he's been cured. He looks at the other lepers as they hobble over the hill, then at the man who did the healing.

Now, this one man is a foreigner, not of the same faith as the others. As he realises he is healed, he turns back, to thank Jesus for the incredible gift of healing. Jesus asks, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" And then he says , "Your faith has made you well." Only one recognised that his body had been healed, but more importantly, his spirit had been healed of its disease.

We get sentimental at Thanksgiving, and I think we confuse sentimentality with gratitude. We single out this one part of the year - a long weekend - to cram in food, family, and a side=helping of gratitude for life - if we remember. In all the hurrying, and the consigning of gratitude to one weekend a year, we’ve lost the meaning of the word “holiday”. ‘Holiday’ doesn’t mean a day off from life, it doesn’t mean time to do all the things we want and maybe remember blessings - in a fleeting sort of way. The word “holiday” literally means Holy Day, a day to remember and give thanks, *precisely* for all the blessings we have.

Virtually every culture celebrates thanksgiving and gratitude in some way - and the thanks is also connected to sharing of the blessings with others. In those ‘thanksgivings’, it is recognised that the fruits of creation are there not only to be used, but to be shared with those who may be considered outcast - the lepers who stand at a distance and are denied life. The fruits of creation are everything we have, and they do not belong to us. They have been given to us through the generosity of God, to be shared with the rest of creation. When we celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday, we are literally celebrating a Holy Day, the giving of thanks to a generous God, who asks us to be generous as well.

But this story also raises questions about worship and tradition. Traditions tell us who we are, give us identity, shape our values. Thanksgiving is a tradition for us. Family gathers around the table, or the barbecue or whatever, and family stories are told and retold. The stories live on, and tradition is passed on.

But we can be so locked into tradition - in fact, I’d call it nostalgia rather than tradition - that we miss the time of our lives now. Traditions prevent us sometimes, from seeing new needs and challenges. The problem with the nine lepers was not that they followed their tradition. Jesus told them to obey what their tradition required, and they did it. The problem was that they were so engrossed in keeping that tradition, that they missed the most important thing that ever happened to them, the most important opportunity in their lives. In order to carry on doing things the way they always had been, they missed altogether the very different thing, the person who gave them the reason to be celebrating.

Did you happen to catch what Jesus said to the one who returned to give thanks? Jesus said he was well, but didn't they all get well? They did. But in this passage the Greek word “sozo” or “salvation.” is used. They all got healed, but Luke implies that this one person experienced something the others missed or ignored..

Gratitude for life is not something we can pay attention to one a year and forget about the rest of the time. Gratitude is more than that; we are called into healing - and from the healing we are called OUT from the sidelines, and IN to life. We can’t stay in one place, hold things the way they are, and not participate fully. If we refuse to participate, we dismiss the gifts given - and that means we are not grateful. Life calls us back out, God calls us back out....and we have only one choice, and that is to risk being changed, to risk being made new, to risk something totally unknown, and to give thanks for it.

Sources:
1. “First Fruits”, a sermon by Rev. Fran Ota, Thanksgiving 2005.
2. “Grace and Gratitude”, a sermon by Rev. Thomas N. Hall.

“Hope in Perilous Times” A sermon based on Jeremiah 32:1-3a, 6-15 Glen Ayr United Church September 26, 2010

2010-09-25T19:28:00.001-04:00

What a really odd story from the scripture this morning! At the core of the passage from Jeremiah, is a Word. Word, you say - so what? Yet this is no ordinary word, but extraordinary Word. Think about some times when there were extraordinary words, which located us so completely that we remember to this day where we were and what we were doing. They might be words of disaster, words of insight, or prophetic words which stop us short in our tracks.

Have you had an experience where a word comes, just an ordinary word, but it comes in such a powerful way that it is WORD.

Back in my administrative days, around 1990, I was discouraged by a superior from applying for a higher position because - he said- a Master of Divinity degree was needed. Yet that requirement was not listed in the job description; I was too naive then to realise that the motives were political and personal on the part of the other person, and not even legal. I remember sitting in a car venting to a trusted friend, who responded “Well, why don’t you just go get the degree!”. The effect was jarring, and I can still feel it. It might seem like a simple thing to say, but the words stuck as prophetic. .....it was the equivalent of God telling Jeremiah to go out and buy land.

The Word from God comes to Jeremiah with such jarring effect that the text is even precise about the timing - right when Zedekiah the Israelite King was finishing his first decade, and King Nebuchadnezzar was finishing nearly two decades of fierce rule.

Probably the worst possible time for this Word to come: Jerusalem is outnumbered, surrounded by a superior force. They have tried to ally with Egypt to fight the Babylonians. That, according to the king of Babylon, is the end. It gets worse - the Babylonian army sets up a siege against Jerusalem; Jeremiah is in jail. He is there because he dared to speak the annoying Word from God. He has dared to speak up and speak the truth about reality. Now, if the King has a different view than God has, obviously there is a problem.

Here’s the Word which landed Jeremiah in the guardhouse:

This is God speaking . . .the thing you have ignored, hoping it would just disappear, is about to happen. So I’m going to tell you plainly- your dreaded enemies are going to break through, and I’m the one letting them in. Your king Zedekiah will surrender, Nebuchadnezzar will take him to Babylon, and he will stay put there till I say otherwise.
So listen up - keep on fighting, you will lose.

Now, that should have resulted in Jeremiah being executed - yet he wasn’t. There must have been something about the unvarnished, raw quality of the Word that had the ring of truth to it. The message was clear: God?s judging actions would seem to end things forever for these people.

That raises questions for us. How do we masking our real condition by choosing only what we want to hear? Prophets speaking prophetic words better be on the appointment system and not the popular vote system - because otherwise they won’t be around long. How do we dance around reality and the truth about our lives because to do otherwise would be painful?

It’s easy, actually, to become the villagers who see the truth about the emperor and his clothes when he’s making a naked fool of himself. Everyone of the villagers see his nakedness but keep silent, because they have been told, "only the dull and incredibly stupid cannot see the new clothes." So the silence goes on; we continue believing in life as usual, choosing to ignore the messages that God sends to our bodies, our neighborhoods, our congregations, and our nations.

So Jeremiah sits in jail, silenced for speaking out and breaking the silence about the truth.

Strange thing, though. Even though the villagers ignore Jeremiah?s words, as they have throughout his gadfly career, deep down they know he?s right. They know the truth when they hear it. So the story begins with nothing in the present that encourages any investment in the future. "Hey, Jeremiah," God whispers to the prophet who sleeps between two guards.

"That you again, God?" “Yes, it’s me. Listen up. When your cousin drops in for a prison visit and starts talking about the family farm, go ahead and buy it.”

Note that Jeremiah says no fewer than five times "this is the Word of the Lord", as if to say, not my idea! So Jeremiah buys property from jail with the Babylonians at the gate. Imagine the press coverage in the village paper the next week: Real Shekels Nets Worthless Land." S

So what did the writer want us to walk away with? What is it about this story that will help us in our own discipleship?

This story is about betting on the future. It is the gospel of grace that promises a future even when we barely have a present. What a daring, risky act of faith in God-to believe the Word that says, "Don’t despair, don’t fear; this is not the last chapter for my people. In my time and through my grace, you will once again be back and buying and selling and living in peace."

To those who didn’t believe Jeremiah, his actions would have been cause for great humour. His purchase of land would seem completely against logic and completely silly. But the point is, even when things looked totally hopeless, Jeremiah didn’t just sit on his hands - he still did something to bring about significant change in the fortunes of the people. God doesn’t say to him “Leave it all to me.”, God says “Do something while you’re trying to see what comes next.” His purchase of the land is God’s Word of blessing in the midst of the reality of hopelessness. We discover that God has placed the people and land on loan to the Babylonians, but both will be given back, because the God of hope sent a Word.

This story reminds us that there will always be Babylonians on the doorstep. They have been there before, and they will be back again. In a struggling church facing financial difficulties - expenses seem to go up annually, making the budget shrink even as you seek new ways to be in mission-this story is for you. Not hard to feel surrounded by gloom and negatively that sees only next week, let alone a renewed, empowered future. Take this story and own it. Devour the Word
of God to this ancient people. Take a risk. Trust God. Even while you are trusting God, do something, but still continue to trust that God sees, hears and knows. Let this story be your hope - God’s grace will sustain where God leads.

There will be times when we face our own "self-invited troubles."times when we get boxed into a corner through misguided choices. That is, of all times, when we turn to God for courage and wisdom to go forward, to return to where God wants us to be. We can bet against the future because we know that God invites us into a hope of recovering, and becoming fruitful again.

Finally, the story teaches that God has no limitations - but that we do, and we cannot overcome those limitations without God. God can break out of all conventions and overcome all constraints - to bring about a new reality.

May the God of all hope in our future produce from our wayward fearful hearts a new spirit, new life, and a new way of living and thinking in the presence of God.

Sources:
1. Buying New Land - a sermon by Fran Ota
2. Betting on the Future, a sermon by Rev. Thomas Hall

A Land of Desolation and Mourning sermon based on Jeremiah 4:11-12, 22-28 September 12, 2010 Glen Ayr United Church

2010-09-11T18:17:00.003-04:00

At that time this people and Jerusalem will be told, "A scorching wind from the barren heights in the desert blows toward my people, but not to winnow or cleanse; a wind too strong for that comes from me. Now I pronounce my judgments against them.

"My people are fools; they do not know me. They are senseless children; they have no understanding. They are skilled in doing evil; they know not how to do good." I looked at the earth, and it was formless and empty; and at the heavens, and their light was gone. I looked at the mountains, and they were quaking; all the hills were swaying. I looked, and there were no people; every bird in the sky had flown away. I looked, and the fruitful land was a desert; all its towns lay in ruins before God’s fierce anger. This is what God says: "The whole land will be ruined, though I will not destroy it completely. Therefore the earth will mourn and the heavens above grow dark, because I have spoken and will not relent, I have decided and will not turn back."
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Nine years ago, terrorsts hijacked four passenger planes, flew two of them into the twin towers of the World Trade Centre. The other two crashed. More than two thousand people from seventy different nations died. We relive the images this weekend, and commensurate with the reliving has come the inevitable flag waving and false patriotism, with overtones of semi-Christian self-righteous anger.

In the reaction following that day, a so-called War on Terror was declared, which included both Afghanistan, and Iraq. In the case of Iraq, war was waged on a country which had nothing whatsoever to do with 9/11. Yet by the time the war on Iraq was declared, more than fifty percent of North Americans had been hoodwinked into believing he was responsible.

Documented deaths in Afghanistan are 19,629 as of 2010. Documented deaths in Iraq are over 150,000 since the war began in 2003. Terror has been used to attack terror. Lands have been reduced to desolation, and destabilised to the point where they may never recover.

I can almost hear the words of God through Jeremiah’s mouth. My people do not know me, they are senseless children, they are skilled in doing evil, they don’t know how to do good. The earth will mourn and the heavens will grown dark.

As I watch the videos, the memorials and the services remembering those days - there is a part of me that knows it would be easy to fall back into a run-down of the number of times the US interfered in the Middle East in ways which were less than constructive - its role in supporting Afghanistan against the Russians, and funding Osama Bin Laden. It would be easy to go back and look at the history of the US in Iraq, Iran - and so many other places. It is easy to say when you meddle with other people’s countries, you have to expect something to happen sooner or later.

All of those things are true, documented historical events. But I think that is no longer where we have to put our focus. What has been learned? Has anything been learned?

Rev. Ron McCreary in Florida comments in his sermon “Prophets have the gift to be able to "see through"...if there had been a State Department or Pentagon analyst on the ground with Jeremiah the analyst would have seen the same thing Jeremiah reported. How can Jerusalem and Judea be so blind? How can they not have seen the buildup of Babylonian strength and come to the obvious conclusion? Often we see what we expect to see, and cannot comprehend what we do not expect even when it is right in front of us.”

Rev Terry Jones of the Dove World Outreach Centre in Gainesville, Florida, had planned to burn copies of the Qur'an yesterday on the anniversary of the attacks. I believe Jones was an opportunist of the first order. Had he wanted to burn the Qu’ran with his congregation, he could have just done it - but instead turned it into a media event. I also believe he had in his head a very clear picture of what he thinks Christian faith and American citizenship are about, and what Islam is about; and this is a picture which, truth be told, others share as well.

Jones discovered that a lot of people, Christians and Jews and Muslims, liberals, moderates, conservatives, religious leaders, political leaders and just plain common folk thought his ideas were all wrong. How could he have been so isolated in his thinking?

Jeremiah’s words echo - the land shall be desolate and the earth shall mourn. I don’t think we should ever forget the desolation and the mourning - those are part of learning. But if we continue to repeat the same patterns, we are doomed over and over again. Hatred, bigotry, media manipulation breed more hatred and bigotry, and more violence.

I have been heartened, in these days, to see that wisdom and sense have prevailed. The outcry from everywhere, directed to Rev. Terry Jones, has made it clear that we have indeed learned a lesson about fanaticism of any kind. I want to read to you part of an open letter from clergy in Tallahassee, Florida - directed to Rev. Jones.

“Although our faith traditions differ in significant ways, we have many things in common. Among these principles we share are respect for one another as human beings created in the image of God, love of neighbor, and the obligation not to bear false witness against one another.
To burn the Koran would violate all of these principles, and has already fanned the fires of religious hatred and bigotry. “

I asked a friend in New York to reflect on the days following the attacks. Here are her thoughts:
“I was overseas on Sept 11, 2001, but live about a 10 minute walk from the World Trade Center. When I saw the live footage on television, I said to myself, "what an awful movie!" It took me several minutes to realize that this was the news, and yes, this was happening in my hometown.

I arrived back in the US on September 15, on one of the first flights back into New York. JFK, unsurprisingly, was chaotic, though surprisingly lax with security at customs and at baggage claim. Outside the airport, which is about 12 miles east of Manhattan, huge smoke could be seen coming out of what was now renamed Ground Zero. As much as I wanted to look away, my eyes kept veering southwest, towards Lower Manhattan.

I wasn't able to get into my apartment for weeks, and it was only by luck that I had my passport with me, which was required to get back into the neighborhood. Our building super left messages on his voicemail daily to apprise us of the current status in the neighborhood while making sure that the building was secure. He and his team were just a few of the many, many everyday heroes during that time. A Red Cross station was set up in the building lobby, and huge piles of debris were stacked up, 1-2 stories high, at intersections. One apartment, in a building a few blocks closer to me to Ground Zero, had its entire external wall ripped off, and the insides could be seen, like a dollhouse had it been in a war zone. A smell of burnt building material filled the air, and there was constant noise of things being moved and rearranged.

As weeks went by, though, New Yorkers adapted to a new normalcy. The ever present National Guard became a part of the neighborhood. Walking right on the West Side Highway - which was closed for traffic - seemed like a regular thing. Seeing straight through what were the World Trade Centers gave the neighborhood new views, and going around Ground Zero, instead of zipping through the mall at the WTC was an inconvenience but not unlike other pedestrian issues the New Yorkers faced daily.

While we could never go back to before 9/11, little signs of New York as we remember it began cropping up. The newspaper guy outside the corner deli reappeared one morning. New palm trees were carted into the famed Winter Garden, promptly greeted with New York-style graffiti on the particle boards holding the place together welcoming them back. Ads featuring New York celebrities appeared on TV telling tourists that it was not only ok, but encouraged them to come visit.

And thus we plodded on. Streets reopened and new buildings popped up. Defiant barriers were erected around 'high alert' sites, such as the Stock Exchange and the train stations. A major effort to revitalize the downtown resulted in a rebirth of the area. There is now a Tiffany's on Wall Street. Around the corner is Hermes, and Whole Foods is just a couple of blocks north of Ground Zero on the West Side Highway. During the blackout of 2003, the city again came together with most people remembering how it was that awful day.

Nine years later, I'm not sure what we've learned. As with many large cities, much of the population is transient, so a good number of people who live here now weren't even in the city when it happened. Tourists walk by Ground Zero with a Starbucks iced latte in hand, some posing in front of it with a smile. Many do remember bitterly, though, and there is currently staunch opposition against building an Islamic Cultural Center several blocks from Ground Zero.

I've got mixed feelings, as do most New Yorkers I think. Sad doesn't seem to convey them completely enough. It's more of a combination of a loss of innocence and resolve to move forwards while not forgetting. As trite as it sounds, though, I think the least we can all do is to count our blessings and to appreciate the most basic things in life. Even the toughest and strongest of us can be made vulnerable.”

On this day - and on days to come - we mourn with New York. We know nothing will be the same. We mourn with all those who lost loved ones, not only on that day, but in the nine years of war which have ensued. The land in Iraq is desolate, and there is mourning. The land in Afghanistan is desolate, and there is mourning. God looked at the desolation, and mourned. God mourns yet. If you read Jeremiah carefully, God has not done this. God looks and sees the evil humans are capable of perpetrating on each other. God is angry that the children - all of them - have learned nothing.

We - each of us - can do something. Each of us individually has a power which, together, makes us strong enough to change the world. Our faith is supposed to BE a world-changing faith - the call of the Gospel is to change the world.

Today - I’m going to try to change the world.....

Sources:
1. Rev. Ron McCreary, Gray Memorial United Methodist Church, Tallahassee, Florida.
2. Open letter - Tallahassee Interfaith Clergy

God Hates Our Worship????? a sermon based on Isaiah 1:10-20 Glen Ayr United Church August 8, 2010

2010-08-07T18:06:00.003-04:00

Hear, you heavens! Listen, you earth! God has said this: "I raised children but they rebel against me. The ox knows his master, the donkey his owner's manger, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand." You sinful nation, a people burdened with guilt, children given to corruption! You have forsaken God, and turned your backs on the Holy One. Why do you persist in rebellion? Your whole being is injured, your whole heart afflicted. From the sole of your foot to the top of your head there are only wounds, and open sores, none of them cleansed or bandaged or soothed with ointment.

"All your sacrifices - what are they to me?" says God. "I have had more than enough of burnt offerings, of rams and the grease which comes from the fattened animals; I have no pleasure in the blood of sacrifices. When you come before me, who asked this of you, this trampling of my house? Stop bringing meaningless offerings! I cannot stand the smell of your incense. New Moons, Sabbaths and convocations - I cannot bear your evil assemblies. They have become a burden, and I am weary of bearing them. When you spread out your hands in prayer, I will not look; even if you offer many prayers, I will not listen. Your hands are full of blood; wash and make yourselves clean. Take your evil deeds out of my sight! Stop doing wrong, learn to do right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow.

"So come let’s reason it out together," says God. "Though your sins are red as crimson, they shall be white as snow, like wool. If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the best from the land; but if you resist and rebel, you will be eaten by the sword." God has spoken.
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Well, God is surely angry. Nothing can be more clear than the incredible anger God lets loose - at the wilful and destructive ways of the people. You can almost see the smoke and flames, hear the thunder. All of the promises and the covenant have been disregarded. Yet when the people come to worship they offer sacrifice of animals, incense, and as God says - insincere prayer. God says clearly, I’ve had enough! Not only that, God says “who asked you to do this? I didn’t!” God says clearly that the worship practices of this people are a travesty - charades, smoke and mirrors, incessant talk of religion and faith even while the sins and evil continue.
And what is it about worship that’s got God’s dander up? What makes God’s nostrils flare so?
Note, that it isn’t particularly the ‘order’ of worship that is the problem. If that were all, we could make a few editorial changes in the bulletin. God isn’t particularly upset by the content - the call to worship and prayers of the people are fine. I don’t think God even gets too upset about the chaos of Passing of the Peace. Nor do I think God is really worried about whether we use new or old hymns, Taize or Iona - we do those things out of choice to allow a wide variety of worship experience.

What has God incensed is that worship lasted but an hour on the Sabbath, and that there were people consulting their portable sundials if worship went overtime. People didn’t want to spend any more time than they had to in the temple - there were other things to do. Worship was fine, but don’t take any more time than necessary to get through the rituals. Fire up the altar, light the incense, pray hard - and get it all into an hour.

God’s intent was that worship would be a 24/7 expression of faith. For too many Israelites in Isaiah’s day, worship was a performance - an intentional, carefully enacted-performance. The rest of the week they went back to live the way they wanted with no reference to God, and certainly no interference.

Hypocrisy is the sin here - singing one thing and doing another. Offering prayers but never being part of an answer to prayer. Preaching against the enemy on Sunday and making deals with the enemy on Monday. God says to these worshipers, "cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow."

The great Danish philosopher and theologian Søren Kierkegaard, says that worship minus direct impact on our neighborhoods = silly geese.

Here is a paraphrase of Kierkegaard’s story. There was a barnyard full of a gaggle of geese. Each Sunday they gathered to hear wonderful words about creation, God’s plan, and extol the glorious destiny of geese. "We were meant to become air-borne on the winds and to soar in the heavens," the leader of the flock would tell them. At the mere mention of heaven the ganders would cackle and the rest would curtsey. After the meeting they would waddle home. But that’s as far as they ever got. They grew fat and plump and at Christmas they became Christmas dinner - that’s as far as they ever got.

Behind the story of tubular necks and webbed feet, Kierkegaard saw weak worship that had its “performance” of religion once a week, but failed to impact the neighborhoods in practical ways.

Yesterday, while putting this sermon together, I was watching a drama called Hitler: The Rise of Evil. One of Hitler’s arguments in the early years was that people were indifferent, didn’t care about their country. He was able to play on emotions and fan the flames of racism and hatred, yet few in Germany stood up to him. The church was conspicuously absent in opposing him, with the sole exception of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Indifference, and fear, prevented those who might have stopped him.

I decided to look a little at what happened with Denmark during the war, keeping Kierkegaard’s words in mind. Denmark had an uneasy kind of agreement with Hitler, and yet were able to refuse to allow his excesses. By far the greatest success in Danish policy toward Germany was the protection of the Jewish minority. Throughout the years of its hold on power, the government consistently refused to accept German demands regarding the Jews. They would not enact special laws concerning Jews, and their civil rights remained equal with those of the rest of the population. German authorities became increasingly exasperated with this position but concluded that any attempt to remove or mistreat Jews would be "politically unacceptable."

Then I looked at the Norwegian resistance to Hitler following Hitler’s ultimatum. King Haakon reported the ultimatum to his cabinet, mindful that although he could not make the decision himself, he could use his moral authority to influence it. He told the Cabinet:
“ I am deeply affected by the responsibility laid on me if the German demand is rejected. The responsibility for the calamities that will befall people and country is indeed so grave that I dread to take it. It rests with the government to decide, but my position is clear.
For my part I cannot accept the German demands. It would conflict with all that I have considered to be my duty as King of Norway since I came to this country nearly thirty-five years ago.[4]”

Nor, he said, could he appoint any government headed by Quisling because he knew neither the people nor the government had confidence in him. However, if the Cabinet felt otherwise, he himself would abdicate so as not to stand in the way of the Government's decision.

Nils Hjelmtveit, Minister of Church and Education, later wrote: "This made a great impression on us all. More clearly than ever before we could see the man behind the words; the king who had drawn a line for himself and his task, a line from which he could not deviate. We had through the five years [in government] learned to respect and appreciate our king and now, through his words, he came to us as a great man, just and forceful; a leader in these fatal times to our country".[5]

Inspired, the Government unanimously advised the King not to appoint any government headed by Quisling, and telephoned its refusal to Bräuer. That night the government's refusal was also broadcast to the Norwegian people. The government announced that they would resist the German attack as long as possible, and expressed their confidence that Norwegians would lend their support to the cause.

Well some of this rings a bell in the New Testament too, doesn’t it? Jesus coming into the temple in Jerusalem, all those hundreds of years later, and seeing that nothing has changed since Isaiah’s words? Throwing animals out, turning over tables, money on the ground, claiming that worship has become an excuse to take advantage of people. It’s not accidental, this story about Jesus. There is a clear parallel.

Look at the end of today’s passage - God says stop doing wrong, learn to do right, defend the oppressed. Worship is meant to strengthen and prepare us so that who and what we are has a positive impact in our neighbourhoods. It means that when someone speaks hatred against Moslems, we are willing to speak back. It means when someone is treated poorly because of their colour, faith, economic status, we speak back. Worship - true worship - doesn’t begin when we walk *in* the door of the church, and it doesn’t end when we walk *out*. True worship *begins* when we walk out the door, and come into contact with the world, with all of its failings. Particularly in these times, when phobias and fear of those who believe differently provokes legislated, and unlegislated injustices, we who are Christians must exercise our worship in a way which counteracts those injustices, and holds them up to the light.

Sources:
1. Telling the Truth about Worship a sermon based on Isaiah 1:1; 10-20 by Rev. Thomas Hall
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Occupation_of_Denmark
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haakon_VII_of_Norway
4. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hitler:_The_Rise_of_Evil

“A Little Greed Goes a Long Way” a sermon based on Luke 12:13-21 Glen Ayr United Church August 1, 2010

2010-07-31T15:39:00.000-04:00

Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me."

Jesus replied, "Who appointed me judge or arbiter between you?" Then he said to the crowd, "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life is not found in the abundance of his possessions."

He told them this parable: "The ground of a certain rich man produced an exceptionally good crop. He thought to himself, 'What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.' Then he said, 'This is what I'll do. I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and store all my grain and my goods. And I'll say to myself, "You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry." '

"But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have saved up for yourself?' This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God."
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I hope that your summer has blessed you with some special moments of contentment. Maybe at the beach or beside a cold mountain stream. Maybe when you had some fun with grandchildren, or lunching with friends, or a short trip (or long) to a place of quiet and rest; maybe you took some pride in the amount of money you had to retire on; sat back with a satisfied smile and said to yourself “Soul, relax; eat and drink, be merry. Nothing to worry about.”

This morning's lesson from Luke has a lot to do with leisure, with living, with getting a fresh perspective on things. You can almost visualise Jesus perched on a huge boulder, perhaps an outcropping of rock on an otherwise pretty flat plain. Thousands of people have travelled to hear his revolutionary words, perhaps in the hope of healing and exorcising of evil spirits. Jesus knows the time is short. With his own death before him, he preaches his "No Fear" sermon one last time.

But as he begins to move into his second point - a heckler in the crowd shouts: "Hey, Jesus, would you please order my brother to give me a fair share of the family inheritance." Who is this guy? He has one thing on his mind, and he hasn't heard a thing that's been said. Jesus angrily snaps a retort back to the heckler: "Who do you think I am, buddy? Some judge that God has personally assigned to you? Take care, my friend, about greed; there's more to life than getting things. "

What Jesus says next should be plastered across every billboard in North America. It's a story about a man whose land produces a bumper crop. He's blessed with abundance. So Jesus says that this little guy knocks down his existing buildings in order to make room for the surplus crop. Well, he's worked hard, so we can kind of see where he’s coming from. But now adequate facilities need to be built. So far, we're exactly in line with this fellow; we've done the same thing we do in most of our churches - we add air conditioning, new wall to wall carpeting and fresh paint, add extra storage space and give the youth their own room. So we've torn our barns down in order to build bigger ones. No problem here. But then Jesus lets us overhear this guy as he begins to talk to himself; a sort of brain to wallet to soul meeting.

"You've made it! You’ve really made it! No more work for you, buddy roo; you can just ease on into retirement and live off the interest. You know eat, drink, and be merry kinds of stuff."

Now we do have a problem. Just live off the interest? Just ease out of life? Just unplug ourselves from life and take it easy? An interruptive voice breaks up this guy’s thought. "Fool," says God. "Tonight death may come for you, and your very soul will be required. So then who'll get your things; you certainly won't."

Seems to be a straightforward story about greed. Greed is probably one of the biggest temptations we face. We're trained to be greedy quite early in life, brainwashed, all of us, into being unable to discern between real need, and just want. The average child has watched 15,000 TV commercials before he or she even starts school. We spend more money on advertising than on our public institutions of higher education. Billions of dollars have been pumped into our world by greedy people, to try and convince us that Jesus was wrong about greed.

When I was in Japan this summer, a huge scandal broke around the sport of sumo. Now, the origins of sumo are religious; the ring is considered holy ground, and those who participate in the sport, are supposed to be above reproach in everything they do. Some of them however, got greedy. They got involved with mafia middlemen, and began betting on baseball - heavily - and ran up huge debts. Greed overcame commitment to something which has elements of both religion and sport. Some of them got caught - and some didn’t. They did more, though - they let go the principles which had brought them to the sport, in favour of feathering nests for the future.

Jesus seems to be warning us against being greedy. But there is also something more here, much more than human greed. Something to do with the way we view life--and death. The heckler seemed to subscribe to the same belief as many today - that you only go around once in life. That the only life we have is the here and now.

We may or may not believe there is an afterlife, but what we think we do have is the here and now. Jesus says that ain’t necessarily so.

Paul says with this “Get it all now just in case” philosophy, we might as well be greedy; might as well cheat, might as well get even; because if all we have is this life, we sure can’t enjoy it after we’re dead.

I prefer a slightly different tack: I believe that there is another life beyond this one, but I want to live this life as if there isn’t. Because that, actually, if I am quite honest about it, puts me on the proverbial hot seat. Just in case there is no afterlife and no second chances, I need to do the best job with this life that I possibly can.

It’s a difficult conundrum. One could say that if we believe in an afterlife we need to be better in this one, in case we are judged in the next and found wanting; but the Christian hope tells us that we are forgiven no matter what we do, in God’s prevenient grace. But if we live as if there is no afterlife, then we really do have only this chance, right now, to make it worthwhile.

Jesus seems to be saying that. We can accumulate goods, make investments to cover us after we retire, enjoy a comfortable lifestyle, sit back and relax - and our very soul might be required while we are patting ourselves on the back for being wise and prudent.

The Good News of the Gospel reminds us that though we live in the world like everyone else, life is centred in our relationship with God. God alone can fill us with good things, that God's love is steadfast and sure.

That doesn’t mean we should not enjoy our lives - Jesus certainly had time to sit with friends and family, to enjoy a glass of wine on a summer’s day, to laugh and celebrate the very act of living. Of course we need to take moments to eat, drink, and be merry! That's what summers and families are about. But for Jesus it was not the end goal. He didn’t get to a certain point and say “that’s it, I’ve done my bit, someone else’s turn now.” Life - and faith - are continuing. If we have faith, we cannot stop living life, to its fullest and to the best of our ability, *because* we have faith. When it comes to how we view this world, and ourselves in it, perhaps we need to eat, drink, - and be wise-- for tomorrow we may die, but we may also live another day.

Sources:
How Much Is Enough? by Rev. Thomas N. Hall

“A Marriage Made in Heaven” a sermon based on Hosea preached at Knob Hill United Church July 25, 2010

2010-07-24T18:09:00.000-04:00

You should have seen the babies! Just so beautiful, each one of them. Black curly hair, dark raisin eyes, dimpled cheeks, a sparkle in their eyes, and light in their laughter. Each baby had a different laugh. We had three children. Each time I carried the baby well...and easy births, all three. The mid-wives used to say I was just made for having babies, that it was too bad I only had three, that with the number of babies around dying, we could have had a family as big as Abraham's"

My name? I am Gomer. I have no idea what my father was thinking when he named me, but it was nothing compared to the names Hosea chose for our children. What was *he* thinking? Jezreel for our first born son, Lo-ruhamah for our only daughter, and Lo-ammi for our lastborn son.

The names won’t mean anything to you, but they mean a lot to my people, the Israelite people. It’s a mystery to me what was going on in his head; he got this religion thing, and kept on telling me that God had even told him who to marry. Well, the other girls couldn't believe it that day when Hosea walked into the place, took one look at me, and said "That's her!" "That's the one!" At first it was misunderstood; everyone just thought the woman he wanted in the brothel was me, as if we were just to treat him as a regular customer. Then he said he wanted to marry me!

"Oh yeah" I said to him. “They all say that when they want something, but then when it’s over, where am I? Back in my little hovel with a few coins in my hand...waiting for the next one.” Hosea was different. He talked to me gently. He said he meant it, that I would belong to him...be his woman...have his children, that I didn’t have to work as a prostitute any more. I could have a regular fire for cooking, and a regular tent for sleeping, and I would belong to his people.

Now I'll tell you what the names meant. Jezreel, the first one; his name is really about sowing seed...in the ordinary sense, but not in those days. In fact it was a really big threat. It has to do with how the Omrites got overcome in the valley of Jezreel, and how God meant that to be a message for the people of Israel. You should have seen how mean the kids were to Jezreel. He came home many a time beaten up because of his name.

Then the second one, our daughter. I begged for a nice plain name like Sarah, but he insisted. This one was called Lo-ruhamah. In our language it means "Unloved". I just didn't get it. How could we raise a daughter named “Unloved”? But Hosea explained that God meant to love the people of Israel no longer. The people of Judah would be favoured, but not our people. Why? I asked, what have they done?

Hosea replied that they had spent too much time going after other idols......they couldn't take a commitment to God through thick and thin. So Hosea named our daughter "No more love".

Then the third child came - another boy. Would you believe it? This name topped it all off. His name is Lo-ammi. It meant our people were gone, out of the sight of God. Cut off. Finished. In my language his name meant "You are not my people, and I am not your God".

But without God, we were a people in darkness. Hosea told me that it was all about his people and how they'd been unfaithful to God, how they'd take wool and flax, bread and water, and even raisin cakes, down to the idols. How they forgot who is the Creator of the Universe when it comes to our daily bread. How they danced and pranced before the idols and gave their silver and gold...just as if Ba’al and the other idols were God.

Well, the other people started to talk, and it got bad. They talked about how my children, now orphans they called them, were no better off than the children of Israel, since they'd gone running off after idols and forgetting their faith. My children were OK but the talk was awful. I left Hosea, taking the children with me; I couldn’t take the laughing and the jeering any more, but Hosea came after me again.

In our culture, there was a punishment for leaving a husband and going back to the old business; a woman would be put out in the desert with no cover, no food or water, just left to die. I had made it to the city again. That's where he found me. I was going back to my former business, to make some money to support my children, when he came looking for me again. He put out more money than I had seen at one time; fifteen silver shekels...and a bushel and a half of barley. That's the price of freeing one slave. And I was bought back. More than bought back. It was like he was courting me all over again. There was tender talk, fresh dates and figs. There was no talk of the past. He treated me as if I was going to be his new wife, and start all over again. I wasn't sure at first. Was this just more of the same? Was I going to be treated just like another example? Yes, and No, said Hosea.."You'd better explain" I said.

So he did explain. The tender love he was giving me was just like the tender love that God has for people....just so long as they don't go off worshipping idols. The covenant, it's called. The tender love he had for me was something he just enjoyed doing. He wanted me back as his own faithful wife. Well...he kept on loving me, and this time I stayed. I settled in to the family and started learning about his people. His people became my people.

Jezreel kept his name, but the land became good again, so Jezreel’s name was about the goodness that God sows in our hearts even when we stray. Lo-ruhamah..the one called "unloved"...became known as "the loved one". She's a beautiful girl....just about to have a child of her own. As for Lo-ammi..."no people of mine"...his is the best! "You are my people" says God. And Lo-ammi says"You are my God". And all comes right for us; but we have to watch the people, says my Hosea. They do like to go off on their own ways so easily. Some day, I told Hosea, some day there's going to be a great teacher in Israel. Someone so great, that he'll teach them of the great tender love of our God. But he may have to die to prove it.

“The Cost of Discipleship” based on 2 Kings 2, and Luke 9:57-62. Preached at Glen Ayr United Church, June 27, 2010

2010-06-26T17:03:00.000-04:00

When they came to the other side, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me what I can do for you before I am taken away.” Elisha replied, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit and become your successor.”

“You have asked a difficult thing,” said Elijah. “If you see me when I am taken from you, then you will get your request. But if not, then you won’t.” As they were walking along and talking, suddenly a chariot of fire appeared, drawn by horses of fire. It drove between the two men, separating them, and Elijah was carried by a whirlwind into heaven. Elisha saw it and cried out, “My father! My father! I see the chariots and charioteers of Israel!” As they disappeared from sight, Elisha tore his clothes in distress. Elisha picked up Elijah’s cloak, which had fallen when he was taken up. Then he returned to the Jordan River, struck the water with Elijah’s cloak and cried out, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” Then the river divided, and Elisha went across.

Luke 9:57-62

As they were walking along, someone said to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.”
Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens to live in, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place even to lay his head.” He said to another person, “Come, follow me.” The man agreed, but he said, “Lord, first let me return home and bury my father.” But Jesus told him, “Let the spiritually dead bury their own dead! Your duty is to go and preach about the Kingdom of God.” Another said, “Yes, Lord, I will follow you, but first let me say good-bye to my family.” Jesus told him, “Anyone who puts a hand to the plow and then looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God.”
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While I was working on this sermon yesterday afternoon, I was also watching one of the Star Trek movies, the Search for Spock. In the story Captain Spock has given up his life for the rest of the crew of the Enterprise, but before he died, he put his living spirit into safekeeping with the ship’s doctor, Leonard McCoy. In response, the crew essentially hijack their old ship and go in search of the physical body in order to rescue Spock. The physical and spiritual parts of Spock can be reunited, but not without significant physical and psychological danger to both people. Having explained the purpose and the risks, the Vulcan High Priestess says to McCoy “The danger to thyself is grave, but thee must make the choice.” McCoy responds “I choose the danger.”, and then mutters in an undertone, “Helluva time to ask!”.

A little later, Captain Kirk is discussing his choice to risk everything. Spock’s father says to him “But at what cost? Your ship, even your son!” The answer is telling. Kirk responds “If I hadn’t done it, the cost would have been my soul.”

Some people have no option for choice - unless that choice is to live or die. Sometimes they do not even have that choice. For us, choice is one of our freedoms. We can choose just about anything we wish, and some things we don’t. We can choose our friends, choose our spouses, choose what to eat, what to wear - to go to a movie or not, to travel, to read, to think. We can choose what to believe, choose if we want to eat or not, answer email or phone, read or watch TV. The times where we make choices are endless.

Many of us would likely say we are Christian by heritage - but at some point there is a choice we have to make too - and that choice is what discipleship means for us in this day and age, and if we are willing to accept the cost of discipleship - because discipleship costs: it costs from our pocketbooks, sure, but it costs far more in our everyday lives.

While Jesus was travelling, someone asked if he could go along. "I’ll go with you, wherever," he said. Jesus was pretty sharp to this would-be disciple: "Are you read to rough it? We don’t know where we are sleeping from day to day.” Jesus was probably able to tell from the man’s clothes whether or not he could do it.

He said to another "Follow me." That one said, "Sure, but first I have to make arrangements for my father’s funeral." Jesus’ response was a little cryptic - “Let the spiritually dead do the burying. Your business is life, not death. The message is critical - Announce God’s kingdom!"

Another one said, "I’m ready to follow you, Master, but first let me get things settled at home, and then I can come with you."

Jesus said, "Anyone who looks back has already lost. Seize the day. Go forward, regardless of risk"

In 1977 Oscar Romero was the bishop of El Salvador. At the time sharecroppers had no rights and rich landowners and the military kept each other in business. Priests who stood with the sharecroppers and fought back were considered "subversive."

It wasn’t long before this quiet priest became archbishop Romero. He was torn between sharecroppers and subversive priests who promoted violence, but on the other hand were the landowners, military, and President-elect. Then, a close priest friend of his was murdered, and he went to the village where the president-elect had closed that priest’s church. The militia had turned it into a barracks. Romero simply said he was there to take the Eucharist - the soldier opened fire on the cross and the altar. Romero left, but came back - put on his clerical robes, and then resolutely set his face toward the church; two priests joined him, then the village people. Romero and the people walked into the church, and Romero cried out, "I have come to retake possession of the church, to strengthen those who the enemies have trampled."

Romero, a priest, had not realised where following Jesus might lead him. The learned Romero knew intellectually about Jesus, but the man who took back the church knew personally the human cost of discipleship, and in the end it led to his assassination..

Well, we aren’t Jesus, or Romero. Most days we just do our jobs, and then go home and have a life with family. But Jesus, Elisha, Romero, and the fictional characters of Spock, Kirk and McCoy know that the decisions are not easy and often go against accepted logic. It may mean going against our culture, giving up a good job as captain of a starship; it might even mean doing something totally contrary to what or families might ask or expect. It is a choice between the good and the best.

Nowadays, most churches don’t talk a lot about discipleship. We are suspicious of those religious groups which do. But the reality is that it’s not possible to be a Christian without being a disciple. Just saying we are Christian, and showing up at church - is only the first step. Discipleship - following Jesus wherever that might lead - is a difficult choice - but it is a choice between the good, and the best. Jesus calls us to sleep in the hard places, to stick our necks out in the difficult times, to take risks.

Is there any good news here? Of course - the good news is that if we take up the mantle left behind, God goes with us no matter what the risk. Jesus left his mantle behind; it is our role to choose to pick up the mantle and follow - wherever that leads.

Sources:
1. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock
2. An Easy Choice? Homily based on Luke 9:51-62 by Rev. Thomas Hall
3. http://www.victorshepherd.on.ca/Heritage/Oscar%20Romero.htm
4. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%93scar_Romero

“Power” Galatians 3:26-29; Matthew 22:35 – 36; 23:1-13 Glen Ayr United Church June 20, 2010

2010-06-20T09:22:00.000-04:00

Galatians
For you are all children of God through faith in Jesus. All who have been united with Christ in baptism have put on Christ, like putting on new clothes. There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Jesus. And now that you belong to Jesus, you are the true children of Abraham. You are his heirs, and God’s promise to Abraham belongs to you.

Matthew
“Don’t let anyone call you ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one teacher, and all of you are equal as brothers and sisters. Don’t address anyone here on earth as ‘Father,’ for only God in heaven is your spiritual Father. Don’t let anyone call you ‘Teacher,’ for you have only one teacher, the Messiah. The greatest among you must be a servant. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.

“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter either.”

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“There will always be free thinkers and heretics, unless we deal with the root of the problem. It is our duty to protect the children from the corrupting influence of dust, and nurture a generation at peace with itself, one which will never question authority again. We owe it to the young, do we not?”

So says the Magisterial Emissary, in the story “The Golden Compass”.

The Golden Compass, part of a trilogy of stories by author Philip Pullman, follows the young protagonist, Lyra Belacqua through her world in an effort to find and save her friends Bill and Roger. In Lyra’s universe, there are witches and armoured polar bears; yet, like our world, there is also a broad range of studies involving particle physics, philosophy, theology and spirituality.
In Lyra’s world, people’s souls are external to their body, an animal-shaped "dæmon" that always stays near its human counterpart. During childhood, a dæmon can change its shape at will, but with the onset of adolescence it settles into a single form which reveals the person's true nature and personality, implying that nature and personality stabilise after adolescence.

The Magisterium is the equivalent of the religious leaders of the church in this parallel world. The Magisterium exerts a strong control over this world, and wishes to control everything. Their greatest fear is people who do not accept the dogma and doctrine, and think outside the box.

Under the direction of the Magisterium, a group known as the Oblation Board kidnaps children and subjects them to a process called “intercision”, whereby the daemon and the human are literally separated by a laser guillotine. This renders the human unable to think independently, and removes their ability to care. The same is true for the daemon soul.

The children who are kidnapped are sent to an “experimental station”, far north on the island of Svalbard, where they are essentially in a boarding school where experiments can be conducted on them without their parents around. Those who try to run away are caught an punished. They come mostly from a nomadic group of sea people, or poorer people who are indigenous to the land. Children of wealthy or educated people do not get taken, and don’t have their daemons removed.

Now - it’s important to note that the word daemons in this case is quite different than our word “demon”. The words daemon, dæmon, are Latinized spellings of the Greek used to distinguish the daemons of Hellenistic religion and philosophy, good or malevolent "supernatural beings between mortals and gods, from the Judeo-Christian usage demon. In his writing “Theogony”, the poet Hesiod relates how the men of the Golden Age were transmuted into daemons by the will of Zeus, to serve as ineffable guardians of mortals. Their function is that of the soul.

In the 19th century, the Canadian government believed that the best chance for aboriginal peoples to succeed was to learn English, and adopt Christianity. Ideally, they would pass their adopted lifestyle on to their children, hence abolishing any native traditions within a few generations.

This policy was known as "aggressive assimilation". The government of Canad provided the funding, and the churches managed what were first called industrial schools, and later residential schools. Children were easier to mould than adults, so children of aboriginal peoples were forcibly removed from their families, taken to the schools where they were required to speak English, not allowed to speak their native tongue, and forced to accept the Christian God. Many were beaten and punished if they spoke their own language. Those who tried to run away were caught and punished. Many committed suicide.

Residential schools were federally run, under the Department of Indian Affairs. Attendance was mandatory. Agents were employed by the government to ensure all native children attended.

At first there were about 69 schools operating, but by 1931, at the peak of the residential school system, there were about 80 schools operating in Canada. All together, 130 schools operated in every territory and province except Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick from the earliest in the 19th century to the last, which closed in 1996. Approximately 150,000 aboriginal, Inuit and Métis children were removed from their communities and forced to attend the schools.

It was believed that native children could be successful if they assimilated into mainstream Canadian society by adopting Christianity and speaking English or French. Students were discouraged from speaking their first language or practising native traditions. If they were caught, they would experience severe punishment. They lived in substandard conditions, endured physical, emotional and sexual abuse. All correspondence was written in English, which many parents couldn't read. Brothers and sisters at the same school rarely saw each other, as all activities were segregated by gender.

In 1994, I had the privilege of sitting for a day listening to aboriginal survivors of the residential schools. No one in that room left the same person. I heard more than one person say their soul had been ripped out of them.

In Lyra’s parallel universe, the Magisterium covers up its lust for power and control by claiming that what they are doing is for the good of those children they kidnap. - just a little cut, and then the children would be sent home. In reality, once the children are taken, they never return home. Life is literally never the same, for their souls have been taken from them. They practice a patronising and patriarchal system of religious teaching which removes any question of their authority.

Here in the real world of Canada, both the government and the churches practiced a patronising and patriarchal system of assimilation. There was a common, and quite racist belief, that aboriginal peoples were somehow “less” than white peoples. Perhaps there was a belief that by becoming Christian, and learning western ways, aboriginal peoples “put on new clothes” and became new people. I am being generous here. For I believe that while they may have said “in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek”, it was not a real commitment of faith. Galatians says clearly that everyone is equal in the sight of God, yet even today we can see that aboriginal peoples are still not seen as equal, either in the eyes of the church or the eyes of the various governments. Extinguishment of aboriginal rights and claims is very much still an item on the agenda. The fact remains that those aboriginal children and families were ripped apart in the name of the Christian God. Note that although hundreds of Chinese came to Canada in this period - and there is no doubt they were badly treated - they were not required to give up their language, religion or families. No other ethnic group has been treated quite as badly as the aboriginal peoples of Canada.

The words of Jesus in this rarely-read passage are important to remember. He is more than scathing of the religious leaders. Jesus says “Don’t let anyone call you ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one teacher, and all of you are equal as brothers and sisters. Don’t address anyone here on earth as ‘Father,’ for only God in heaven is your spiritual Father. Don’t let anyone call you ‘Teacher,’ for you have only one teacher, the Messiah. The greatest among you must be a servant. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.

“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter either.”

Two worlds, where children are taken and abused - where families of those who are deemed “lesser” are abused. Where a policy of extinguishment extends to particular cultures. Two worlds where religious leaders, more interested in control of thought and action, delude themselves that they have the way to enter the realm of God. In their need to exert power, and control, they deny others the opportunity to go there.

So after a delay of more than a year, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission begins in Winnipeg. It is not an end, and it will not solve everything. Native peoples are already saying that apologies are a step, this commission is another step, but they are also looking for justice to be done. Churches can take a strong role in supporting aboriginal peoples as they struggle to find that justice. Everyone is equal in the sight of God; we can do no less.

Sources:
1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daemon_%28classical_mythology%29

2. The Golden Compass (His Dark Materials). Philip Pullman. Alfred A. Knopf, New York, c. 2002.

3. CBC website - Residential Schools, Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

Hospitality and Life a sermon based upon Luke 7:36 - 8:3. June 13, 2010 Glen Ayr United Church

2010-06-12T18:46:00.002-04:00

I am sure lots of us have seen the movie “Sister Act”. Whoopi Goldberg, playing the part of Vegas lounge singer Deloris Van Cartier, witnesses a brutal mob murder. To keep her safe, the police hide her in a convent and she becomes Sister Mary Clarence.

There is a scene in which the Monsignor is explaining the situation to Mother Superior. Mother Superior is only too happy to take in this poor unfortunate woman - until her horrified eyes behold the purple sequined body suit, designer sunglasses and huge afro hairdo. When the Monsignor reminds her she has made a vow of hospitality to everyone, regardless of who they are, Mother Superior responds “I lied.”

The word hospitality comes from the Latin ‘hospes’, which is formed from ‘hostis’, which meant to have power. The meaning of "host" can be literally read as "lord of strangers." But ‘hostire’, from which we get the word ‘host’, means equalize or compensate.

In the Homeric age, hospitality was under the protection of Zeus, who also had the title 'Xenios Zeus' ('xenos' means stranger), emphasizing the fact that hospitality was of the utmost importance. A stranger passing outside a Greek house could be invited inside by the family. The host washed the stranger's feet, offered food and wine, and only after the guest was comfortable the host could ask his or her name.

Hospitality is about making a stranger equal to the host, making him feel protected and taken care of, and when his time is up, guiding him to his next destination.

Did you know that hospitality, a generous and cordial welcome of strangers, was considered most important not only to Greeks, but to both Jews and Christians. Nothing was more important than showing hospitality - offering strangers a generous and cordial welcome by providing a sustaining environment. People believed that in the next life God would serve them as Host, and would show them the same kind of hospitality, the same kind of welcome as they had shown to strangers during their time on earth.

When Norio got off the plane last Monday, he had with him a somewhat strange woman whose money and credit cards had been stolen. She had no money to stay anywhere, or to eat. All she had was her passport and a plane ticket for the next morning. I didn’t know until I got to the airport. Would it be all right if she stayed overnight with us? There was a part of me that didn’t wanted to be bothered - after all, I had just got home from a trip myself, just sent my sister off, had a busy weekend and wanted to rest. Sending her to a hotel would have been easier. But we took her to dinner with my niece, and then took her home for the night. Next morning we were up at 5 to get her back to the airport. In some ways, Norio is far better at that radical and open hospitality than I am.

In his sermon about hospitality, Rev. Thomas Hall tells about a bishop in the United Methodist church, who was visiting churches in the Conference. He stopped at a small church, and not sure where to go, wandered into the church basement. A woman there eyeballed him and said, "What are you doing here? Can’t you see that we’re getting ready for the bazaar? You don’t belong here." So the bishop backed out, and made his way up to the sanctuary. He was met warmly by the pastor. "What is one of your greatest assets in this church?" the bishop asked, still shell-shocked. "That’s easy," the pastor said grinning broadly, "we pride ourselves on being a friendly church."

Tom Hall reflects that the bishop probably wondered, "Oh really? And what are your liabilities."

Now, Luke’s story is full of holes - as are most Biblical stories. Jesus is invited to dinner, and his host doesn’t observe any of the common courtesies. Somehow, an “immoral” woman manages to get in. Or is she already there? Or is she a member of the household who broke one of the myriad pharisaical laws? Simon figures Jesus couldn’t actually be a prophet, because if he were he would denounce this immoral woman - and certainly she would not be able to touch Jesus. That in itself would be a scandal. Jesus, true to form, not only proceeds to instruct Simon the Pharisee in interpretation of the law and scripture, but goes further and gives him a lecture on hospitality. He points out that Simon observed *none* of the regular customs - water and a towel to wash the feet, a kiss of greeting, olive oil on the head. Yet a woman, pushed to the side by others, observes those customs, and does it weeping.

Simon takes his faith seriously. He fasts, tithes, and attends worship. He’s a model for people who take the spiritual life seriously. But he has a serious disconnection between faith and hospitality.

Just for a moment, jump back to Sister Act. Mother Superior admits that she is far less adept at giving hospitality than she would like to think. The arrival of Deloris, as Sister Mary Clarence, brings the very being of the Holy Spirit into the convent. She upsets every apple cart, every single barrier Mother Superior has so carefully constructed. The other sisters have been *thinking* it, but Sister Mary Clarence *does* it. Fences come down, doors open, people find the church relevant - and the church becomes a part of the neighbourhood, instead of a bastion keeping people away and keeping the sisters in. Mother Superior notes how dangerous it is outside, and forgets that the other people have to live out there with the danger *all the time*. Completely unwittingly, Mary Clarence gives the whole convent new confidence, and a new understanding of what hospitality really means.

And in one telling line, Sister Mary Patrick notes “after all, that’s why we became nuns in the first place.”

Interestingly, the passage from Luke ends with Jesus and the disciples going into towns and villages preaching the good news, accompanied by women who provided for them and took care of them. They looked after each other on the road, and the women were not afraid to go with them.

Hospitality, to others and to ourselves, means going out on a limb and doing things that others might think are irresponsible. Hospitality means getting to know people right here, those that we don’t know as well as others. As we spend time today, over lunch and then in discussion about the church and its life, how we work towards living our faith is part of that discussion.

Sources:
1. Jesus and Hospitality, a sermon by Rev. Thomas Hall.
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hospitality

Interlude Part 1

2010-05-16T22:37:00.002-04:00

For the next three weeks there won't be any sermons published. I am on my way to the Festival of Homiletics in Nashville, Tennessee - and will likely post some comments about the preaching and sermons heard there. The next regular sermon will be posted to this blog on June 5, 2010.

Vision and Church a sermon based on Acts 16:11-15, and Revelation 21:10, 22 - 22:5 Sixth Sunday of Easter Glen Ayr United Church

2010-05-08T15:18:00.007-04:00

Acts
We boarded a boat at Troas and sailed straight across to the island of Samothrace, and the next day we landed at Neapolis. From there we reached Philippi, a major city of Macedonia and a Roman colony, and stayed there several days. On the Sabbath we went outside the city to the river, where people were meeting for prayer, and sat down to speak with some women. One was Lydia from Thyatira, a merchant of expensive purple cloth, who worshiped God. As she listened to us, God opened her heart, and she heard what Paul was saying. She was baptized along with others in her household; she asked us to be her guests. “If you agree that I am a true believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my home.” And she urged us until we agreed.

Revelation
So he took me in the Spirit to a high mountain, and showed me the holy city, Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God. I saw no temple in the city, for God and the Lamb are its temple. The angel showed me a river with the water of life, clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God. It flowed down the centre of the main street; on each side grew a tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, with a fresh crop each month. The leaves were used for medicine to heal the nations. No longer will there be a curse upon anything. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be there, and the servants will worship; they will see God’s face; God’s name will be written on their foreheads. There will be no night there—no need for lamps or sun—for God will shine on them.
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Remember this old joke? Why did the children of Israel wander the wilderness for forty years when the promised land was less than 50 miles from their starting point? Because Moses would not stop and ask for directions.

Due to John Gray’s description in the book ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’, men have been identified as the ones who would drive right past two Petro Cans, several Timmies, rather than admit that they’re hopelessly lost, and they have no idea how to get where they are supposed to be going.

My husband bought himself a GPS, but you know what? Even when it’s on and set, he won’t listen to it. He still thinks he knows how to get where we are supposed to be going, better than the GPS. And of course he hates it no end when I tell him I *do* know where we are going, because I am listening to the GPS *and* looking at a map.

...I remember one time last summer, on our road trip to the Maritimes, where he did (knock on wood) listen, and we stayed on the road the map told us to stay on.....the poor GPS had us driving in the middle of empty space. The road map was up-to-date, the GPS was not....

Getting clear directions requires asking, and it requires discernment. The asking and the discerning both help us determine our destination. Both the reading from Acts, and the one from Revelation, suggest that churches need to get directions straight in the carrying out of mission. At the best of times, congregations need to move from a place of self-preservation to a place of genuine vision and mission. If we don’t discern a direction, we are going to end up wandering around! The conundrum is that it's the wandering around which helps us discern where we are supposed to be!

Paul and Silas are all ready to do another mission with the Good News. But did you notice one thing? Luke includes a suggestion that they had to keep asking directions - they traveled through the area of “Phrygia and Galatia, because the Holy Spirit had told them not to go into the province of Asia at that time . . .Then coming to the borders of Mysia, they headed for the province of Bithynia, but again the Spirit did not let them go . . .”

Now, you would have thought Paul and Silas of all people would have a handle on what they had to do and where they had to go. But no...they needed directions - not literal directions, but spiritual. They had no specific guidance from God. Every time they started off in another direction, God shut the door. "No, I don’t want you to go to Asia." So they go in the opposite direction - Bithynia. "Nope - not there". I am sure they got frustrated, because they were all ready and the door was closed.

Paul and Silas wander outside the doors, and find a small group in prayer by the river, and one of that group is a woman named Lydia. She is wealthy and influential. She becomes the first follower of Jesus in Macedonia. One person who heard a message. Is it possible that all of Paul and Silas’s to-ing and fro-ing might have been for this one encounter? Luke says Lydia already believed in God, and was ready to hear the Good News. The church in Philippi came into being through one person.

Here is something for us to think about. How is the Spirit already at work behind the scenes here? We need to remember that *we* don’t do it, the Spirit does. We need to wait for the directions. When we are in partnership with God, listening for any directions, we cannot expect to see spectacular results right away. Our frustration comes because we want to see results of *all* our efforts; we just want to see people fall in the door, yesterday - instead of recognising that's not how it happens.

Here’s where we connect to Revelation. Here we have a metaphor for the realm of God, intersecting with human existence. Humans can be the means of channeling God’s grace, the notion of ‘building the kingdom’. Human agents infused with the Spirit of the new creation may contribute to that future reign of God here and now - and it might only be one person at a time.

We may think churches are necessary for Christian community, but Revelation intimates that put too much investment in our buildings, instead of a closer relationship with God. So the question is how can we be more more in relationship and less building-dependent?

How can we keep our faith alive in the vision of the new city if we still think the old vision worked fine? How can people of faith live now as if God were already building the realm through their words and actions.

The word *worship* means "to declare what is worthy." What do you declare is "worthy" by your worship? Is it worship once a week for an hour, and no longer? A friend of mine was criticised for “preaching too long.” Have we so much other important stuff to do that giving five or ten minutes extra to God on a Sunday morning is too much? What does that say about our worship? Is worship part of the very fabric of our lives in faith? What do we say about God?

Both Acts and Revelation show us a vision of the realm, beside a river....remember that part. Luke tells us that Paul and Silas spoke to Lydia and baptised her beside the river. John tells us in Revelation that the new realm is beside the river of the water of life.

Revelation offers us God’s vision - a new realm in which all people are blessed. Is that our vision? Is that our church? Are we only here for ourselves, or are we here for something more? Do we want everything to happen according to our schedule? Or are we willing to listen for directions, and along the way - one person at a time - bring about the “new heaven and the new earth”?

Sources:
Directions a sermon based on Acts 16: 9-15 by Rev. Thomas Hall

“Celebrations” A sermon based upon Revelation 21:1-6 and Luke 17:33 Glen Ayr United Church May 2, 2010 Fifth Sunday of Easter

2010-05-01T16:44:00.000-04:00

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared, the sea was also gone. I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”

The one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” Then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” He also said, “It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega—the Beginning and the End. To all who are thirsty I will give freely from the springs of the water of life.” (Revelation 21:1-6)

“If you cling to your life, you will lose it, and if you let your life go, you will save it.” Luke 17:33

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In Buddhist practice, there is an exercise called “holding on and letting go.” It is based in the knowledge that all things are impermanent, that they cannot continue forever. The exercise consists of taking an object which is of great value to you - something to which you are strongly attached, something with strong memories attached - and throwing it away. You literally throw it, over your shoulder, and from then on it is gone.

In the Christian scriptures, a story is told about a young man who asks Jesus what he should do to enter the realm of God. Jesus says, essentially, go and get rid of everything you have - then you will be able to enter. The young man, unable to give up all his riches and possessions, goes away.

Jesus wasn’t talking literally about getting rid of everything, he was addressing that very fine line between holding on, and letting go - and when it’s the right time to do which.

In Roman mythology, Janus was the god of gates, doors, doorways, beginnings and endings. His most prominent remnant in modern culture is his namesake, the month of January. He is most often depicted as having two faces or heads, facing in opposite directions.

In general, Janus was the patron of concrete and abstract beginnings of the world, human life, new historical ages, and economical enterprises. He was frequently used to symbolize change and transitions such as the progression of past to future, of one condition to another, of one vision to another, the growing up of young people, and of one universe to another.

There’s a fine line between holding on, and letting go.

To “let go” means not to worry about the future, but look forward to what might happen

Havelock Ellis once said, “All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” It seems like the further you go in life the more you are faced with the decision of what to hold on to, when to hold on, and when to let go and trust. It becomes more and more important to consider what you need to keep and what you need to change.

Sometimes we have to do both at the same time. The word for this is “risk” . The Japanese character for “hope” involves danger and opportunity.

When it comes to change and risk, today’s successful organizations are traveling the super highway, schools are starting to get on the county highways, but the church is still trying hard to continue plodding down the old and familiar paths. So many congregations are reacting when it’s time to act. Reacting to choruses, reacting to different worship styles, reacting to the changing neighborhoods around their church. Congregations have somehow learned how to say no more than yes, and end up stuck on the same old cow paths.

Rev. Thomas Hall talks about the different stages of a church committee - and these stages can be applied to almost any activity we have in the church. Here are some of them:

Wild enthusiasm. “Let’s begin a new outreach to children in the inner city—I’ve seen so many kids on the street corners on Sunday mornings; we could bring them to church for Sunday School and a lunch, then drive them back.” “Yeah!” “What a great idea!” “All in favor, say aye!” “Can you believe it—everyone voted yes! “What an exciting idea!”

Disillusionment when things don’t happen yesterday. Three weeks into the new ministry . . . “We don’t have enough people signed up.” “I never intended to help out every Sunday, I just thought it was a really good idea for the church.” “We need to find volunteers to take on this job.”

Search for the guilty. “Whose idea was this?” “I just want to go on record that this was not my idea; I had reservations about this whole thing from the start.” “I think the pastor needs to step up to the table and take responsibility for this failure.” “I don’t think we really did this the right way, there was a better way to do it. After all, we are in a crisis.”

Over the last five weeks, Glen Ayr has been working at a stewardship programme. Maybe you weren’t sure, maybe you didn’t read all the material, maybe it just didn’t sink in because it wasn’t like a stewardship programme you remember. It wasn’t designed as a hard sell, it was designed to ask each of you to think about what you can offer to help support all of the ministries in which Glen Ayr is involved. Just as you are feeling the bite in your grocery bills, heating and hydro, gas for the car, all kinds of things - so this church feels that too. But we also believe that Glen Ayr is growing into a new role in this community, and that we have something vital to offer to the community around us. That’s the holding on part.

At the same time, we are called by faith to live out of a sense of abundance and gratitude. Without every single one of you here - and all of those who might be but cannot - Glen Ayr would not be here at all. We started out almost five years ago together, on a path into the unknown. We had no idea where this would take us, and to a large extent we still don’t know exactly where we are going. But we engaged a new and energetic musician who, with considerable talent and sensitivity, has brought a new dimension to our worship and our life together. We have begun to see a new group of people finding something here. We have many people who quietly give of their time and talent to the church; some have been here a long time, some are newer. In the process of that, there has been some letting go - there has to be.

The quote from Havelock Ellis says much to me. All of our endeavours have to be a fine mingling of holding on and letting go - of doing things a different way, and of not reacting if something doesn’t work. Everything we do is an experiment - there are no hard and fast rules for what will work and what won’t. There are no rules for how fast it is going to happen - because it happens in God’s time, not ours. In short, there are no guarantees - yet in the midst of no guarantees we are called to faith and hope.

Part of living a faith of gratitude is to celebrate what we have, even when we might see clouds on the horizon. We have to be willing to let go of certain concepts, and do something differently, in faith and trust that God will make something out of it. It may not happen, in which case maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s the danger. But there is also the opportunity: at the same time that we try to look to the future and do some responsible planning, we also have to look at who we are now, right here, today - and celebrate who we are and what we have. For part of this year we will be celebrating a lot of the past of Glen Ayr. We will also celebrate the future of Glen Ayr, unknown though that may be. In the midst of that danger and opportunity, we also have to celebrate each other - with gratitude and thanks. So today we come together around God’s table for the communion celebration, and then we go to lunch together - a lunch provided as a way of saying thank you to each of you, for who you are, and what you bring to Glen Ayr. Because there is a time for just letting go and being...right now. May it be so.

Sources:
1. “Trouble Back At Headquarters” a homily based on Acts 11:1-18 by Rev. Thomas Hall.
2. Henry Havelock Ellis 1859 - 1939 - physician and social reformer.
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janus

Two Kinds of Life, a sermon based on Acts 9:36-43. April 25, 2010, Fourth Sunday of Easter, Glen Ayr United Church.

2010-04-24T13:45:00.000-04:00

Try to imagine what it would have been like in Joppa. In this story, a kind of parallel to the story of Lazarus, Dorcas is raised from apparent death, and picks up a new life. Like much of the world today, including Canada, people spoke more than one language. In Joppa, they spoke at least Greek and Aramaic - some would probably have spoken Hebrew. Depending where she was and with whom, Dorcas was also known as Tabitha – both names meaning gazelle.

You probably know people like her. Most of us know there are only so many hours in a day or days in a week. Dorcas wasn’t one of those people - she always seemed to have more than enough time to get more done than is possible to do in the regular day or week. Somehow, though, despite al the things she did, it seemed as though she always had lots of time to give her undivided attention. If there was a job that needed to be done, she was always there to do it; doing it well and with a smile..

Sounds like some people we know, doesn’t it?

What few people saw in Dorcas, however, - and what we probably don’t see in some of the seemingly tireless people around us - is that Dorcas was becoming weary of requests for her time,
weary of the hurts and sorrows she was carrying for people, weary of the growing expectations that she could do it all.

“She was devoted to good works and acts of charity,” but it seemed as though no one else was devoted to them (v 36). The church in Joppa loved having Dorcas do the work.

Maybe it was a combination of her personal style, and a complacent church, but no one else seemed able or willing to carry some of the load. So when Dorcas died, there was a crisis. No one else knew what to do. All they could think of was who would replace her. No one had taken time to thank her. They just compared themselves to her, and decided that she was so talented, their gifts didn’t measure up to hers. So they would find a way to say “Oh, I don’t have any gifts or talent, I can’t really do anything.” Rather than recognise that God had given everyone gifts, they were happy to leave it to Dorcas.

Funny, though, when she died they found a way to minister to her. They gently and carefully washed her body and laid her on a bed (v 37). The woman who had in many ways washed their feet is now being washed from head to toe by the people she had served.

Dorcas was an exceptional woman, and the only women named in the Bible specifically as a disciples. But her ministry had allowed people to think that the church was there to serve them - that it was OK to expect it. Dorcas’ way of caring for people created a self-centered group who thought there was no future if she wasn’t there. To them, her death spelled death for the church.

But God had something else in mind. God’s vision of the church was larger than their vision of the church. God knows there is more to the church than just caring for the people who attend.

So when God raises Dorcas from the dead, there is a dramatic change as God’s vision for the church comes into focus. The church begins to change from simply caring for the “widows and saints” who had benefited from her charity to one concerned about the community around them. The people begin to share the good news of God’s love and grace as they tell her story (v 42).

In the book “The Holy Longing”, Ronald Rolheiser talks about two kinds of death and two kinds of life. He uses a word that not too many people are familiar with. This particular word is “paschal.” It comes from the Hebrew word ‘pesach’, which means Passover. In Christian circles, it’s often used to speak about Jesus’ death as the Passover lamb given for the people of Israel.

Rolheiser talks about terminal death and paschal death. Terminal death ends life and ends possibilities. Paschal death is a death that, while ending one kind of life, opens the person to a deeper form of life. Paul spoke to the Corinthians about a grain of wheat being planted and dying but returning as new life in a new form - that is a paschal death.

There is resuscitated life and resurrected life. Resuscitated life is, for example, someone who has been clinically dead and is resuscitated, brought back to the physical life they left. Resurrected life is not a restoration of the same old life but the entering into a radically new life. Lazarus got his old life back, a life from which he had to die again. Jesus did not get his old life back. He received a new life – a richer life and one within which he would not have to die again.

Dorcas died a terminal death and was gifted with resuscitated life. She takes up where she left off, so to speak. Dorcas’ church died a paschal death, and from is death came a resurrected life.
Dorcas doesn’t change - she carries on as before

Her church, however, changes. Their resurrection helps them change the basis for their existence, change the way they live and contribute to the life of their congregation. They find ways to respond to God’s love and grace by living out - within the congregation and outside it - gratitude for what has been given.

They participate in acts of piety and commitment, they participate in acts of charity, they are open and welcoming, they witness to the good news by working to ensure the church is able to live fully, they imitate the Disciple Dorcas.

If you read through the entire book of Acts, you begin to understand that this isn’t just about Dorcas, but about the work of the Spirit - which is a story without end. The Holy Spirit begins work among us as we experience a paschal death and our own resurrection.

If the ultimate aim of stewardship is that our whole lives are to honour God, then we need to work from theologies of abundance, gratitude, and active discipleship. A theology of abundance celebrates that God created all that is and generously gives us every gift that we have and are. God calls us into relationship, to make our world better. We honour God when celebrate the abundance of God’s love for us, when we celebrate our lives together; we also honour God when we respond with gratitude.
Discipleship means a focus on Jesus, God’s great gift, who shows us how to live in ways which reflect our relationship with God in community. Through our giving - of time, of talents, of money - we participate in the preaching, teaching, healing, feeding and caring. We are the embodiment of God’s love, and the hands and feet of Jesus.

God also gives us the gift of the Spirit. We honour God by being open to the Spirit’s guidance. In opening ourselves to the Spirit’s leading, we are able to discern God’s call to both abundant living, and abundant giving.

The work of resurrection - and it is work - is not something that happens fast. It takes a change in our focus, a revitalisation of our purpose. The story of Dorcas, and the life of her congregation, is a story about stewardship. Each of us has something which is vital to the life of our congregation. Each of us has Spirit-given gifts, and the only way the congregation can experience the paschal resurrection is if those gifts are put to the best use possible. It has always been a reality of the church, that it cannot be resurrected without the hands, feet, and gifts of everyone in it.

May it be so.

Sources:
1. Based on the sermon “ Resuscitated for Service”, a sermon based on Acts 9:36-43 by Rev. Randy Quinn
2. Ronald Rolheiser, “The Holy Longing”. Doubleday, 1999, p. 146
3. “Celebrate Stewardship”, by Judith and Warren Johnson, copyright 2004The United Church of Canada. Used with permission.

Dramatic Encounters a sermon based on Acts 9:1-6 Third Sunday of Easter Glen Ayr United Church

2010-04-17T18:51:00.003-04:00

For most of his life the late Malcolm Muggeridge professed to be agnostic. In 1969 he became a Christian, publishing “Jesus Rediscovered”, then “Jesus: The Man Who Lives” in 1976, a more substantial work describing the gospel in his own words. He also produced several important BBC documentaries with a religious theme, including In the Footsteps of St. Paul.
In 1982, Muggeridge converted to Roman Catholicism. He was 79. His last book “Conversion”, published in 1988 and recently republished, describes his life as a 20th century pilgrimage - a spiritual journey.
In today’s reading from Acts, there is a word which never shows up, and yet its presence almost screams out of the story. Rev. Tom Hall calls it “a disruptive word--a word that intrudes into our life, a word that rocks our boat, threatens us with priority shifts.”
The story of Saul on the road to Damascus is not a story about a conversion to the Christian faith. Saul was a Jew, and remained a Jew even after his experience. It is a story about a change in nature or character. Unfortunately, the Damascus Road incident has become kind of the yardstick by which everyone measures “conversion”. I suggest that this story is one of a huge epiphany for Saul.
A little background. Saul seemed to arrive just when he was needed most. The religious leaders and the sanhedrin thought new the movement could not be stopped even after the death of Jesus. Saul volunteered to take on the job of getting rid of the Jesus movement. He was young, intelligent, well educated as a rabbi and absolutely committed to the traditions of the faith. There were reports of followers in Damascus, and off went Paul, determined to stomp them out.
And he finds himself flat on his keester in the road, blinded by an incredible light. He has to be led into Damascus, and wait in the city for instructions. So he sits for three days in a room in an inn - hungry and unable to function. A human comes into the room, he feels hands on him and then hears "Brother Saul; Jesus, who appeared to you on your way here, has sent me so that you may regain your sight and be filled with the Holy Spirit." The lights come back on, and suddenly he sees more clearly than ever. He really sees, for the first time in his entire life. His perspective changes. His commitment changes. His relationships change. Even his name changes.
We tend to think of conversion as someone becoming a Christian when they were some other faith prior to that. Saul, now Paul, was still the same man as before in the sense that he was still a practicing Jew. He hadn’t changed his faith, but he had changed his perceptions and understandings of how that faith was to be lived out. His understanding of God changed.
Paul had a conversion experience - no question of that - but his experience was one of conversion to a new life in ministry within the faith he had professed all his life. He understood his scriptures and his faith differently, and the new insight propelled him into ministry with the small group he had elected to eliminate. Sometimes conversions are loud and bold affairs--much like Paul's. Often they are not.
One of the most well-known conversion experiences is that of Kagawa Toyohiko. He had been an orphan from an early age, and became a Christian while learning English from western missionaries. His extended family disowned him. He studied at the Tokyo Presbyterian College, in the United States. The real conversion, I believe, came when he attended Kobe Theological Seminary, and found himself distressed by the pickiness of the seminarians around technicalities of doctrine. He believed that Christianity in action was the real truth of those doctrines.
In 1909 he moved into a Kobe slum as a social worker, and sociologist. He recorded many aspects of slum society previously unknown to middle-class Japanese - illicit prostitution (i.e. outside of Japan's legal prostitution regime), informal marriages (which often overlapped with the previous), and the practice of accepting money to care for children and then killing them.
Kagawa was arrested in Japan in 1921 and again in 1922 for his part in labour activism during strikes. After his release, he helped organize relief work in Tokyo following the 1923 Great Kanto earthquake, and assisted in bringing about universal voting rights for men in 1925. He organized the Japanese Federation of Labour, as well as the National Anti-War League in 1928, and continued to speak on behalf of Japan's poor; he pushed for the vote for women, and a peaceful foreign policy.
His conversion began through a simple prayer: "O God, make me like Christ." That was it. That was the blinding light and heavenly voices that accompanied his conversion. He was an orphan, half blind, always sick, yet he walked into the slums of Tokyo and became the greatest slum reformer.
Conversion is not a word we associate very often with our own lives. We don’t often have those wild experiences where we see with absolute clarity, if even for just an instant, and find ourselves blinded by the insight. Sometimes it’s something very small, which we might easily overlook. Other times the mighty persistent God breaks in to disrupt our lives completely. Saul’s experience on the Damascus road challenges us to be open to conversion. The Good News of Easter, and for us, is that God brings a profound change in nature or character. As Christians, we have to be open to conversion. That means seeing our selves, our lives, our congregation, our church - differently - and making a commitment to being a part of the church’s life, in whatever way we can.

Sources:
1: “Conversion”, a sermon by Rev. Tom Hall
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malcolm_Muggeridge
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toyohiko_Kagawa

Butterflies in the Garden A sermon based on Luke 24:1-12 Easter Sunday April 4, 2010 Glen Ayr United Church

2010-04-03T16:58:00.002-04:00

But very early on Sunday morning the women went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. They found that the stone had been rolled away from the entrance. So they went in, but they didn’t find the body of Jesus. As they stood there puzzled, two men suddenly appeared to them, clothed in dazzling robes.

The women were terrified and bowed with their faces to the ground. Then the men asked, “Why are you looking among the dead for someone who is alive? He isn’t here! He is risen from the dead! Remember what he told you back in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be betrayed into the hands of sinful men and be crucified, and that he would rise again on the third day.”

Then they remembered that he had said this. So they rushed back from the tomb to tell his eleven disciples—and everyone else—what had happened. It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and several other women who told the apostles what had happened. But the story sounded like nonsense to the men, so they didn’t believe it. However, Peter jumped up and ran to the tomb to look. Stooping, he peered in and saw the empty linen wrappings; then he went home again, wondering what had happened.

****************************************************

Two weeks ago on a Saturday, a call came from North York General Hospital that a United Church chaplain was needed in the intensive care unit, as a patient was going to be removed from breathing support. I arrived to find some of the family gathered around the bedside, and a woman with a breathing mask lying on the bed. She struggled to breathe even with the mask on, and with morphine to ease to the pain. In some ways it was as if she struggled to get free of her body. I was reminded of the struggle of butterflies to break free from the chrysalis, to shed the thing which held them trapped to this earth, to spread their wings and take off into a new life.

Luke tells us that it was very early Sunday morning when a group of women went to the tomb. There was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and some other women who are not named by Luke - but clearly it was important enough to include. The women went with their spices to prepare Jesus’ body for a proper burial. Luke infers that these are the women who provided for Jesus out of their own resources, when the twelve were on the road. These women arrive to see the yawning entrance to the tomb, and the mighty stone rolled away. It is hard for us to imagine, we are so used to the stories now. It must have been at first puzzling, but when they find themselves confronted by two men in dazzling white, they were absolutely terrified - so afraid, in fact, they fell to the ground and covered their faces. The men asked the most confusing question, too: Why do you look for the living among the dead. He is not here, he is risen. Remember, he told you this would happen.

I’d be willing to bet the women were thinking - what did he tell us? What are these men talking about? The women were probably physically and emotionally exhausted from the events of the week, and in the midst of those events, being bound by religious law, that they could do nothing till the Sabbath was officially over. They had seen the excruciating execution and death of Jesus, and probably wanted to forget - not remember. They were moving on autopilot, in many ways, but still thinking enough to go to the tomb, taking the spices needed to prepare a body properly for burial.

Remember what? Remember how Jesus told you this would happen? It was back in Galilee! Remember he said he would be handed over? He told you that he would be crucified! Remember? And he said that he would rise again on the third day. Well, it happened just as he promised. Remember?

Suddenly it all came back to them - like a flood of light- not that it made any sense- but the women remembered that this was what Jesus said would happen and it did. The women remembered and so they returned to tell the others. They were met with disbelief, and even some concern that they were hysterical women who couldn’t accept real life. Isn’t that the human reaction, after all?

And yet, Luke tells us Peter got up and ran to the tomb, saw the gravecloths - went away wondering what had happened.

It’s the statement, and the question of the two men which are so significant for this day. Why do you look for the living among the dead? He isn’t here any more, he is alive. Remember what he told you? Remember?

In the first letter to the new house church in Corinth, the apostle Paul had his work cut out for him. None of the converts was an eye-witness to any events; Paul himself was not an eyewitness. Yet he accepted on faith that the Jesus had been resurrected; some of the other converts obviously weren’t so sure, so they wanted some explanation - some proof. Paul says to them “You ask how the dead can be raised? How silly can you be? Of course, the dead do not get up and walk again, in the same body. But each kind of life is given a body - one kind of body for plants, another kind for animals, another kind for birds, one for fish. And just as there all these different kinds of flesh, so it is with the human body.

Remember, says Paul, what you plant cannot live unless it first dies. A grain of wheat in the ground looks like nothing and appears dead, yet when it grows it has a body completely unlike the grain of wheat. It’s that way with humans and resurrection. Only by dying do we live.

So why go looking for the living among the dead? A lowly and often mundane caterpillar disappears inside a chrysalis, but when it finally struggles and pushes and breaks its way free, what emerges from the chrysalis is something completely changed from the body which went in.

Remember. Resurrection can happen in so many ways. A dying person’s soul struggles to emerge from the chrysalis which holds it to this earth. A living person’s soul can also struggle to break free, to come out of the closed chrysalis and spread out its wings. Resurrection is an invitation to make such major change in our selves, that we truly become something wholly new.

Sources:
1. "They Remembered" by Rev. Cynthia Huling Hummel
2. "Finding Out for Ourselves", by Rev. Elizabeth Darby

Palm Sunday March 28, 2010 Glen Ayr United Church

2010-03-26T22:43:00.002-04:00

The Reading and reflections are taken from Luke 22:1-23

I. The Festival of Unleavened Bread, which is also called Passover, was approaching. Leading priests, and teachers of religious law were plotting to kill Jesus, but they were afraid of the people’s reaction.

Then Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve disciples, went to the leading priests and captains of the Temple guard to discuss the best way to betray Jesus to them. They were delighted, and they promised to give him money. So he agreed and began to look for an opportunity to betray Jesus so they could arrest him when the crowds weren’t around.

Reflection 1
Luke is the one Gospel which tells us from the beginning that he is relating as closely as possible what he has been told by others. Some of the leading priests and teachers of the religious law were already planning to get rid of Jesus, according to Luke, but didn’t have a good excuse.

Then there is Judas. Judas had been one of the twelve all along, and probably he was one of the few who really believed Jesus was in fact the hoped-for Messiah. He had been there where Jesus had done so many things, he likely believed it would be easy for Jesus to just call up the power of God and demonstrate to the religious leaders and the Romans who he really was. I don’t think Judas ever thought Jesus would really die. I think he took the money, and figured the joke would be on the leaders when Jesus demonstrated his real power.

II. The Festival of Unleavened Bread arrived, when the Passover lamb is sacrificed. Jesus sent Peter and John ahead and said, “Go and prepare the Passover meal, so we can eat it together.”

“Where do you want us to prepare it?” they asked him.

Jesus said “As soon as you enter Jerusalem, a man carrying a pitcher of water will meet you. Follow him. At the house he enters, say to the owner, ‘The Teacher asks: Where is the guest room where I can eat the Passover meal with my disciples?’ He will take you upstairs to a large room that is already set up. That is where you should prepare our meal.” They went off to the city and found everything just as Jesus had said, and they prepared the Passover meal there.

Reflection 2
If we take Luke at face value, it looks as if Jesus is predicting everything which will come. More likely Luke leaves out the bits where Jesus has made arrangements ahead of time; maybe those details weren’t related; maybe Jesus had other people do the arrangements; maybe Jesus had a premonition that this would be the last Passover together, and he wanted it to be special. Knowing how the people would crowd into Jerusalem, he wanted to be sure they had a place where they could sit in comfort and eat in peace, and enjoy each other’s company. Everyone Jesus loved, together in one place. Not just the twelve, but all the people who went with them everywhere - the women and the children too.

What would it be like, if you just had a feeling you were going to die soon, and wanted to have one last get-together with all your friends. You would make sure everything was arranged - the place, the food, the atmosphere. Jesus sends Peter and John ahead to prepare the food, but he has already made sure everything else is organised so there won’t be any glitches. There is water, food, wine, bread - and a comfortable place where everyone has everything they need.

III. When the time came, Jesus and the apostles sat down together at the table. Jesus said, “I have been very eager to eat this Passover meal with you before my suffering begins. For I tell you now that I won’t eat this meal again until its meaning is fulfilled in the Kingdom of God.”

Then he took a cup of wine and gave thanks to God for it. Then he said, “Take this and share it among yourselves. For I will not drink wine again until the Kingdom of God has come.”

He took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this to remember me.”

After supper he took another cup of wine and said, “This cup is the new covenant between God and his people—an agreement confirmed with my blood, which is poured out as a sacrifice for you.

“But here at this table, sitting among us as a friend, is the man who will betray me. For it has been determined that the Son of Man must die. But what sorrow awaits the one who betrays him.” The disciples began to ask each other which of them would ever do such a thing.

Reflection 3
So the meal is prepared. Long low tables set around the room, cushions and benches to recline on, simple dishes for the food - and the traditional meal.

Some of the detail in Luke is interesting though. Jesus takes the cup at the beginning of the meal - and offers thanks to God. In fact, he would have offered a blessing on God, and then thanks. He says he will not drink again until God’s realm comes on earth. Then he takes the bread - also the custom - but the words are changed and the bread becomes his body. Then he takes the cup a second time, saying that it is the new covenant, a confirmation of the agreement between God and the people.

We’ve always thought that Jesus knew from birth that he was going to die. That’s what we’ve been taught. Jesus wasn’t stupid. He had been in the face of the religious authorities one way or another all the time; he had been abrasive and critical - and he had been right about their hypocrisy. Luke tells us at the beginning that the religious leaders were already plotting Jesus’ death. Jesus’ statement that his death has already been determined is simply a matter of fact, not psychic abilities or supernatural knowledge. He knows more than Judas had realised. No, Jesus wasn’t stupid at all. He saw it coming.

The disciples of course, react exactly the way everyone would. Who on earth would turn him in? Who would ever betray Jesus? Who would ever renege on the friendship which had been formed? Who would turn against him, or deny knowing him?

Knowing the physical danger, wouldn’t we all?

“A Prodigal Muchness” John 12:1-8 Fifth Sunday in Lent Glen Ayr United Church

2010-03-20T20:09:00.000-04:00

Has anyone seen the new Alice in Wonderland movie yet? I confess I have not, but it’s on the to-do list for this week. My friend and colleague, Rev. Susan Leo, did go to see it. She comments that it is a sequel to the Disney animation of 1951, rather than a remake. Alice, in this movie, is now a young woman, almost an adult. She’s not happy with her options, but isn’t certain of herself, not sure of what she should do, or what she could do. So when she falls down the rabbit hole into Underland, she is older than when she first visited, and also a very different person: less bold, less confident - so much less herself that the March Hare and the Mad Hatter are sure that she’s The Wrong Alice. “You were so much more, muchier then”, the Hatter says, looking sad. “You’ve lost your muchness.”

“You’ve lost your muchness.” It happens doesn’t it? As we get older, exposed to life, we gradually lose our muchness. We’re supposed to tamp our muchness down - we might be considered improper, or misunderstood, or judged too much - we might be judged.

As we look at the story from the Gospel of John today, there are a couple of things for you to hold in your mind.

First, in scripture the Hebrew word "me'od" means, literally, "muchness." In Deuteronomy 6:5, when we are told to love God with our strength, the word is actually "me’od” - muchness. Jesus quotes Deuteronomy, and the word is translated variously as "strength" or "might." but it really is “me’od”, muchness. Jesus says to love God with “all your muchness”.

Second, the dictionary tells us that the meaning of the word “prodigal” means rashly or wastefully extravagant - but also giving, or given in abundance, lavish or profuse. A prodigal person is one who is given to wasteful extravagance.

Well, the story today from John is about muchness: the muchness of Mary, the muchness of God, and the judging it provokes.

Jesus was in Bethany, at the home of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. These three are never identified as official disciples, although I think they were, because although they lived at home, they were friends of Jesus. We don’t know how they became friends, but Jesus was obviously very close to them. It sounds like he had been there often for a breather from the people wanting him. This friendship had just recently been tested. In the story right before this one, Lazarus had become seriously ill. Mary and Martha sent for Jesus to come and help, believing that he would make Lazarus well. They believed he could heal Lazarus.

Even after Jesus received the message, he flatly refused to go, and even spent time relaxing by the Jordan River for a couple more days. When he did eventually go, he found himself confronted with anger, accusations of betrayal from the grieving sisters. Moved by their grief, Jesus went to the tomb, and called Lazarus out. The crowd surrounding the tomb that day was amazed. Some went away bewildered, some left filled with wonder and awe. Still others ran off to the Pharisees and told them of what they had seen. Now this would not sit well with the Pharisees - because only a real prophet can raise the dead to life. They would be really angry - just as John paints them in his gospel. Jesus might just be who everyone says he is.

So here we are: a comfortable home, friends eating and relaxing together, just a couple of days after the miraculous thing, and just before Jesus enters Jerusalem for the last time - although they don’t know that yet. Relaxing, drinking a little or a lot, talking and laughing. Martha, the older sister and a perfectionist, has put another incredible meal on the table. Mary, the younger sister, the one whose mind is always off in the clouds, sitting near Jesus and just drinking in everything he says. Lazarus, maybe still pinching himself after the ordeal, laughing with Jesus and the gang.

Mary goes to another room for a moment, and comes back with a jar in her hands. She kneels in front of Jesus, opens the jar, scoops out the spicy nard, which has a scent reminiscent of mint and ginseng. She warms it in her hands, and the fragrance fills the whole room. The room goes silent. Mary massages the very expensive perfume into his feet, then lets her hair down, and begins to wipe away the excess.

This is an astonishing and provocative scene. Not only was it totally unexpected, it was outside the acceptable norms of behaviour for a woman; when Mary broke open the jar, she broke a whole pile of taboos. Anoint a man’s head was a symbol of royalty; to pour perfume on a man’s was the action of a slave. A woman might touch the feet of a man to whom she was married, but otherwise not. And a respectable woman would never let down her hair like that.

Judas was the one who spoke. What a waste of money! Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money used to help the poor??? John tells us Judas didn’t care about the poor, he cared about the money. So instead of seeing this action as gratitude and extravagant love, - prodigal love, profligate in is extravagance - he only saw waste. He couldn’t deal with the “muchness” of the whole thing! That oil would, indeed, have fed many poor people for a long time!

Last week's story of the prodigal son brought us a jubilant father pulling out all the stops to celebrate his son’s return, despite conventional wisdom, and the petulance and anger of the other son. The father lives with “muchness”. Mary demonstrates the same kind of extravagant love in this story. It is a story about “muchness” - me’od.

Mary makes us uncomfortable - she is so adoring and driven to give a blessing. Jesus makes us uncomfortable because he is so willing to receive it - we would have expected Jesus to chastise Mary for the waste, wouldn’t we? Judas is just opposed to muchness in any of its manifestations.

Yet here, through Mary the dreamer, is an expression of extravagant love, magnanimous love; lavish love. She offers Jesus an incredible blessing; to give or receive a blessing, is to become vulnerable, revealing more of ourselves, our desire, and our love. We don’t like looking “over the top”. Usually, for us, when we’re given a blessing, we think we don’t really deserve it, we automatically think there must be strings attached somewhere. Who are we to give a blessing to others? So many of us think that. Oh, Im nobody special what do I have to offer anyway?

And unlike Mary, when we give we don’t give out of “muchness”, we give with a poverty of soul. Then, playing the role of Judas, we judge people who are as lavish as Mary, or the overjoyed father in the prodigal son story. This is a story of prodigality and muchness: through Mary, we see the muchness of God. Through a woman, no less, the generosity and extravagance of God is demonstrated. Mary's gift was a prodigal and profligate, incredible blessing, with no regard for propriety, cost, or the fear of being too much. Gods gift of Jesus is an even greater muchness, a large extravagant blessing given without regard for propriety, regulation, cost, or the fear of being too much. God wishes for us to be as much as we are capable of being. God wishes that we stop paying attention to the Judas who would curb our muchness. God wishes us to give with extravagant generosity from those blessings whenever and wherever we can. God wants us not to lose our “muchness”, but to celebrate it and work on it

In the second letter to the church in Corinth, Paul writes “Thanks be to God, who in Christ, always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads in every place the fragrance that comes from knowing Christ. For we are the aroma of Christ....”

Sources:
1. Sermon “A Holy Muchness”, by Rev. Susan Leo, Bridgeport United Church of Christ, Portland, Oregon.
2. 2 Corinthians 2:14-17 - “Scent of a Disciple” by Rev. Wes Morgan, First Christian Church Disciples of Christ, Conroe, Texas..

Prodigals!!! A sermon based on Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 Glen Ayr United Church March 14, 2010 Fourth Sunday in Lent

2010-03-13T14:43:00.001-05:00

“What? You want ME to go to a party for that moron? Look, Dad, I’ve really had it up to here, ya know? I’ve worked the farm year in and year out, done everything you asked without ONCE complaining. Meanwhile that little moron takes all the money he can get, runs off and blows the lot on women and drinking. He’s a totally irresponsible idiot. I told you this would happen, didn’t I? And now you want me to welcome him home, act like everything’s OK? It *isn’t* OK. But you and mom always did love him best....”

Brothers....one older, one younger. Siblings, tied by blood and family, but completely unlike each other. The prodigal eldest - giving all his time and energy, the perfectionist, taking no time for himself but always trying to do what he thought would meet the approval of Mom and Dad. Desperately looking for their approval. Slaving away in the fields long after the regular labourers had quit for the day. Assuming more and more of the heavy work as Dad got older.....and feeling like it was all taken for granted, feeling as if he was *expected* to give all his life to his family, at the expense of his own happiness. Prodigal and profligate with his giving and giving and giving without restraint.

Six years between him and the youngest, and in those six years he had all the attention, all the love, all the little extra good tidbits of food at the table. He was an only child for those years, and while it meant he got the attention, he felt like he was expected to perform. By the time the younger son came along, he was on his way to being a perfectionist oldest who was never satisfied with giving anything less than all of himself to everything. Prodigal and profligate in his giving to his parents, he never learned how to love himself for who he was. He passed up chances with some of the prettiest girls around, because he always felt he had to be at the farm, helping his parents. After awhile it felt like life had passed him by, that he would never have a life of his own until it was too late.

He got all the extra attention, until the little moron came along - and then - in his eyes - watching all the attention and the extra tidbits going to this ugly little thing which toddled after him, hanging on to his clothes. The one who could do no wrong as he grew up, the one who never got any discipline no matter what the escapade; the one who couldn’t care less about school, who didn’t worry about Mom and Dad, who just went his own way. ...and for that, Mom and Dad loved him best.

The worst thing he could possibly call his brother, in his culture, was *idiot* and *moron*. His resentment festered.....

“What? You want me to go to a party, for that MORON?”

Brothers....one older, one younger. Siblings, tied by blood and family, but completely unlike each other. The prodigal youngest - the one who came along after the eldest had a grip on Mom and Dad’s love. The one who always had to follow after the older one, do what he was told. The one who was never allowed to do anything without his older brother. The one who wasn’t quite so smart, wouldn’t get out and work the fields, didn’t like to get dirty. The one who always seemed to have girls following him. Prodigal and profligate in his life, he spent all his time drinking in the local pub, or running around with any woman who would have him. Who just assumed everything would always work out. The one who was sick of that perfect older one, who Mom and Dad preferred because he was so responsible all the time. He always felt second-best, always felt like his parents were saying “Why can’t you be more like your brother? He knows what’s important.” He would never have a life at all on this backwater farm, plowing and working the fields, picking more rocks than crops, smelling like the pigs. No point in trying to impress Mom and Dad, they clearly loved the oldest one best, and probably never really wanted him anyway.

Nothing to do but take the money and run. Grab while you can, live in the moment, the future will somehow take care of itself. Get as far away as possible from that wuss who spends all his time sucking up to Mom and Dad, and live a real life. Out where things are interesting, where you never know what’s going to come next.

Living with the best of everything - good wine, excellent food, a comfortable place, lots of parties. Prodigal and profligate, the money slips through his fingers like sand. The more he has, the more he wants, the harder it is to have without becoming a criminal. Famine strikes; the money is gone, there is no more food or wine. He doesn’t feel any better than he did at home, in fact he feels worse. Working in someone else’s fields, even the husks from corn and beans look good to a hungry person. And nothing feeds the hunger of the soul.

“What? You want me to go to a PARTY for that moron?”

Brothers....one older, one younger. Siblings, tied by blood and family, but completely unlike each other. Parents, trying to recognise the individuals, treat each of them fairly - take stock of the needs of each, love them with all they have. Being accused of favouritism, of being boring, having no life, ignoring one and paying attention to the other. “You always loved HIM best!”

Father gradually growing older, finding it harder to move in the mornings with arthritis. Working the fields, tending the animals - growing enough to feed sheep, calves, and chickens to feed a family. Proud of the eldest who will carry on the farm; worried sick about the youngest who seems to have no sense of direction, knowing he needs to learn about the world, even if it’s the hard way.

Mother spending most of the day cooking for field labourers, making clothes, cleaning up - looking tired beyond her years. Trying gently to get her oldest son to ease up, and get the youngest to help more, to grow up.

Father, wisely, giving the young son his money and letting him go off recklessly abroad - hoping he learns, afraid of what could happen to him, wondering if he will ever see this wild child again.

Leaning out the window one day in an upstairs room he can see far down the road. A tiny speck in the distance makes him look harder. His child! His child has come home.....

Prodigal and profligate in his generosity and joy, running into the road, yelling to the labourers to go get the calf he has been fattening for market, the perfect calf which would bring in enough money to last a year. Prepare a celebration, the child has returned. Whatever happened, however it happened, doesn’t matter. Racing faster than he’s run in many a year, arthritis forgotten; arms thrown wide open to hug and hold and cry and rejoice. He looks into the sad and now knowing eyes of this dear child, and hears the words “I am not worthy to be considered your child. “ Hears himself saying “It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. Of course you are worthy! I love you, you are my child. Welcome home!”

Prodigal and profligate in his generosity, the calf is killed, the best robes in the house brought out, the farm hands given the day off. The table is prepared and everyone is invited to come and eat, to celebrate the return of the one who lost his way and found it again. Prodigal and profligate in his love, shining out of his very pores, coming alive again because of this one lost child.

“What? You want ME to go to a PARTY for that MORON? I’ve worked and slaved here, always done whatever you asked, never took money, never even had a DATE because I was working this farm because I wanted you to LOVE me? Because you always loved him best when *I* was the one who was reliable.” Tears now, and an angry stamping of feet. “I’ve wasted the best years of my life here, and for what? So you can celebrate that the moron came home because he had nothing left? He’s an idiot, taking advantage of you again, and he’ll hurt you again.”

Tears in the eyes of parents. “But we’ve always loved you. Everything we have has always been yours, always. Everything is yours, don’t you know that? Your brother was lost...he didn’t realise what that meant. Now he does and he’s come back to us! His return is what’s important. Come and eat, you are hungry too, I know you are. You are as much a part of this family as he is. Come to the table, come to the celebration.”

A Fig Tree? Lent 3 Year C Glen Ayr United Church Luke 13:1-9

2010-03-06T21:19:00.001-05:00

About this time Jesus was told that Pilate had murdered some Galileans, as they were offering sacrifices at the Temple. “Do you think those Galileans were worse sinners than all the other people from Galilee?” Jesus asked. “Is that why they suffered? Not at all! And you will perish, too, unless you repent of your sins and turn to God. And what about the eighteen people who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them? Were they the worst sinners in Jerusalem? No, and I tell you again that unless you repent, you will perish, too.” Then Jesus told this story: “A man planted a fig tree in his garden and came again and again to see if there was any fruit on it, but he was always disappointed. Finally, he said to his gardener, ‘I’ve waited three years, and there hasn’t been a single fig! Cut it down. It’s just taking up space in the garden.’ “The gardener answered, ‘Sir, give it one more chance. Leave it another year, and I’ll give it special attention and plenty of fertilizer. If we get figs next year, fine. If not, then you can cut it down.’”

What do we know about fig trees? Not much, probably because we don’t see them a lot. Fig trees are quite common in areas of the world with a Mediterranean climate, which includes the southern US, California and Texas. They can be picked twice, and even three times in a year. Figs have been an important food crop for thousands of years, and are one of the very first plants cultivated by humans. In Gilgal, in the Jordan Valley just north of Jericho, no fewer than nine subfossil figs dating to about 9400–9200 BC - the Neolithic age - were found. This find predates the domestication of wheat, barley, and legumes.

So when Jesus talks about fig trees, as he does in various places in the Gospels, he is using a symbol which has been around as long as the Israelite people remember. He isn’t using some rare esoteric plant that hardly anyone would relate to, he is using literally the most common food source around.

But there’s another little piece in this scripture which needs to be noted. The translation I just read uses the word fertiliser, but the Greek word is kopria, which means literally “manure”. So the gardener says to the owner “Leave it with me for a year or so. I will prune it and give it lots of manure.”

So here we have a scripture in two parts - first, Jesus saying something totally contrary to the accepted religious belief. Remember, it was common cultural belief that people suffered because of sin. Some of the Galileans were murdered by Pilate, and the people who come to Jesus intimate that somehow they were responsible for their own deaths at the hands of Pilate. Jesus says that those people were no worse than any other Galileans. Neither were the eighteen who were crushed by the tower of Siloam. ...and, says Jesus, everyone sins. Everyone is less than perfect, and no one is any better than anyone else. You can almost see the eyebrows of the religious leaders going straight up into their hairlines.

Then he goes on to tell one of his stories about the realm of God, and what it is like. The second part of the scripture. ...then there are two parts to the story of the tree - the roots which need feeding, before the fruit can come.

Yesterday, at the coffee and conversation get together, we got slightly off into plants that don’t bloom. I have two orchids which have sat proudly putting out lots of nice green and healthy robust leaves; they were very muscular plants, but not a sign of a bloom. I got mad. I stuck them in the front window, fertilised, and told them if they didn’t bloom they were going out into the trash. Miraculously those two orchids are now putting forth spikes and preparing to bloom.

So here is a tree - something which has been around longer than anything else - something which represents everything the children of Israel are, and it puts out leaves and branches year after year - but no fruit. Jesus was a master at using ordinary commonplace everyday things as a vehicle for teaching something really important and profound.

So he has dismissed out of hand the idea that tragedy and sin are related. These things were not (and are not) God's doing. They are terrible tragedies, and God weeps at the senselessness of the acts. Were the people who died in the bombing of the trains in Spain worse than others? Were those who died in the world trade centre worse than others? No!! They died because of random acts of violence. None of these calamities was God's doing, none of them was a punishment. Jesus wants people to understand that suffering is random. But Jesus also is saying that we all have a need to return, to repent, and to do something with our lives before we too are gone.

To repent is to get ourselves back on track, to be in right relationship with God. Sin is being out of right relations with God. To repent is to reconnect with God, to stop doing the things that hurt us and others. God calls us to repent because if we don't, our souls perish. Just as the fig tree is offered a second chance to produce fruit, God offers us a chance to begin again, to live a life of abundance.

The owner of the fig tree wants to cut it down. It's taking up precious land, soil, and time. The gardener says "Give it one more year. I'll dig around it, put manure around it. Now, this makes sense, doesn’t it? Tree roots, like everything else, need oxygen in the soil, they need to breathe. I don't know about you, but I can identify with the fig tree. Every time I turn around, there is a second chance. But there’s the critical part, too. The roots have to be dug around, the soil loosened so the air can get in, good old stinky manure spread around to give nourishment. So it is with people. We have to dig down to our roots, let some air in, fertilise with study and reflection, taking out what we’ve always believed and giving it a good second look. Is this who we are? We have to remember, we aren’t in it alone. God helps us to grow, helping us garden our lives and bearing fruit.

Anna Murdock, who continues to offer plenty of food for thought to scripture discussions, tells a story about an elderly man in her church. His back yard was filled with fig trees. He and his wife spent the fruitful season making jams and cobblers, and bagging up fresh figs. They would go throughout the town, knocking on doors and giving little gifts of their overabundance. He not only understood about looking after trees, he understood about the soul, the roots, and how essential healthy roots are in the gardens of our souls.

Sources:
1. Anna Murdock, story on “Midrash”, Woodlake Books.
2. From the sermon “One More Year”, by Rev. Cynthia Huling Hummel
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_fig

Foxes in the Henhouse? February 28, 2010 Second Sunday in Lent Glen Ayr United Church, Luke 13:31-35

2010-02-27T17:23:00.002-05:00

Today in Jerusalem, part of a wall built by Herod the Great still stands. Herod had embarked on a huge project, to renovate the temple in Jerusalem. Less than 100 years later the temple was torn down by the Romans, and the only remaining piece was the section of wall. It is known to us as the Western Wall, where worshippers gather on Friday evening - the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath - for prayers. There is an incredible reverence attached to this wall.

On the place called Temple Mount, just beyond the wall, are two Muslim holy places built on the site where the temple stood. Muslims believe that Mohammad ascended into heaven and received the Koran on this mountain. It is one of their holiest sites.

In the Middle East today, there are people on both sides who would be willing to give up territory to stop the conflict. Unfortunately the one thing on which neither can agree is who controls Jerusalem. The city is so central to the faith of both groups, that neither wants to give up the control or the power. They are willing to resort to violence to retain that control. In my mind this is religion gone awry, religion confused by a need of people to be “on top”, religion which attaches identity to a place, and makes the place most important.

Jerusalem was the capital of Israel as a unified kingdom under David and Solomon. When the kingdom was divided, Jerusalem continued as the capital of the southern nation of Judah. David’s descendants ruled over Judah for over 400 years, until the Babylonians destroyed the city and deported the entire royal family. By the time Jesus came along, there was no Jewish state at all, and no descendant of David on the throne. The new capital city was Caesarea. Regardless, Jerusalem was still a holy place, the Jews had been freed from exile in Babylon and allowed to build a new temple - but in no way was it as incredible as that of Solomon. Then, about 20 years before Jesus’ birth, Herod the Great began his massive renovation of the temple which continued for thirty years after Jesus’death - in total over 80 years of work.

It is important to remember that the identity of the Jewish people was “God's Chosen”, and to them the temple was the place where God lived. More than anything else, the temple was central to Jewish identity, and still is.

Well, there’s your history lesson in a nutshell for today. It’s important, because it puts Jesus’ comments into context. Jesus calls Jerusalem the city that kills prophets. In Jesus’ view the importance attached to Jerusalem was used as an excuse to persecute and oppress, an excuse for power over and control of, rather than a place where people are liberated.

Times don’t change much do they? People don’t change much, obviously. We live in a world obsessed with power, status and control. It doesn't matter whether it is at the global level, national level or even the office of the church; power, status and control seem to be the real coin of the realm.

Jesus was no stranger to these games of power, status and control. Time and time again he spoke out against those religious leaders who wanted the seats at the best tables as opposed to being with people. He condemned those who paraded in their religious finery. He proclaimed repeatedly that the last shall be first and the first, last. I think what galled some of the religious leaders most was that Jesus was a Pharisaic Jew, and his words cut directly to them. Although temple renovation was going ahead and Jews were allowed to practice their faith, they also had to be careful. Herod was basically under the thumb of the occupying Romans and was sucking up to them more than looking after his own people. However, I also choose to read this passage as indicating that some of the Pharisees saw the truth of Jesus’ words, and knew Herod would not take Jesus’ words so well, so they tried to warn him.

There is a reality here. Nothing alarms people who have power more than being told that the people at the bottom will come out on top, and vice versa. Jesus understands the world of politics, and power - and when he is given a warning, he does what he always does - confronts the issue directly and with clarity.

Jesus has been going through the countryside, teaching in various towns - slowly going towards Jerusalem. In verses 29 and 30, he is teaching about what the realm of God will be like. He says “People will come from all over the world - from east, west, north and south - to take their places in God’s realm. Note this: some who may seem least important now will be the greatest then, and some who are the greatest now will be least important then.”

Then we pick up today’s text: “Some Pharisees said to him, “Get away from here if you want to live! Herod Antipas wants to kill you!” Jesus replied, “Go and tell that fox that I have no time for him, for I am busy casting out demons and healing people today and tomorrow; and the third day I will accomplish my purpose. Yes, today, tomorrow, and the next day I must proceed on my way; for it wouldn’t do for a prophet of God to be killed except in Jerusalem!

...and then he weeps as he speaks -
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together, as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me. Now, look, your house is abandoned, and it is too late.”

He knows the game of power that Herod and some of the leaders are playing, and he says that his own activities of proclaiming the realm of God where the last come first, will not stop, that his activities will take him to Jerusalem, to the centre of Roman power, and he will die.

Here is the vision. The henhouse is full of foxes, and Jesus the prophet comes along to say that the realm of God is a place where the very least will be first; where the powerful lose their status. The foxes will be turfed out of the henhouse.; and the powers of Caesar quake in their boots.

In 2010, things in Jerusalem have not changed much. Things in the world have not changed much. Herod Antipas and those around him wear many faces. The poor of Vancouver’s Lower East Side are covered up and pushed aside, not by the athletes but by organisers who are more concerned about power, control, and image. Money and power try to control economies and countries - and often those who try to remove oppression lose their lives for it. Those who try to be honest, and blow the whistle on dishonest business lose their livelihoods and get blamed. But Herod, the old fox in the henhouse, no matter what his name in 2010, is not as much in control as he thinks. God who lives beyond all powers and principalities, all control and oppression, continues to demonstrate the reality of a new realm, just when the powers think everything is going their way.

This week in Lent, perhaps it’s good to reflect on power, and those who speak truth to power, as Jesus did. Do we speak truth to power? Or do we prefer to just focus on keeping ourselves alive? Who are the foxes who distract us from what we believe is God’s purpose in the world?

Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor says "If you have ever loved someone you could not protect, then you understand the depth of Jesus' lament. All you can do is open your arms. You cannot make anyone walk into them. Meanwhile, this is the most vulnerable posture in the world --wings spread, breast exposed --but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand. ... Jesus won't be king of the jungle in this or any other story. What he will be is a mother hen, who stands between the chicks and those who mean to do them harm. She has no fangs, no claws, no rippling muscles. All she has is her willingness to shield her babies with her own body. If the fox wants them, he will have to kill her first; which he does, as it turns out. He slides up on her one night in the yard while all the babies are asleep. When her cry wakens them, they scatter.
She dies the next day where both foxes and chickens can see her -- wings spread, breast exposed -- without a single chick beneath her feathers. It breaks her heart . . . but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand."

Sources:
1. “The Foxes are Not in Control”, by Rev. David Shearman, Central Westside United Church, Owen Sound, ON.
2. “Sanctuary” by Rev. Richard Gehring, formerly Manhattan Mennonite Church, Manhattan, Kansas.
3. "Chickens and Foxes", by Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor, in Bread of Angels. Cowley Publications, 1997.

“Out in the Wilderness” Luke 4:1-13 February 21, 2010 First Sunday in Lent Glen Ayr United Church

2010-02-20T19:02:00.001-05:00

Then Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan River. He was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where he was tempted by the devil for forty days. Jesus ate nothing all that time and became very hungry.

Then the devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become a loaf of bread.”

But Jesus told him, “No! The Scriptures say, ‘People do not live by bread alone.’” Then the devil revealed to him all the kingdoms of the world in one moment. “I will give you the glory of these kingdoms and authority over them,” the devil said, “because they are mine to give to anyone I please. I will give it all to you if you will worship me.” Jesus replied, “The Scriptures say, ‘You must worship and serve only God.’” Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, to the highest point of the Temple, and said, “If you are the Son of God, jump off! For the Scriptures say, ‘He will order his angels to protect and guard you. And they will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.’” Jesus responded, “The Scriptures also say, ‘You must not test God.’” When the devil had finished tempting Jesus, he left him until the next opportunity came.
******************************************************************

Toad baked some cookies. "These cookies smell very good," said Toad. He ate one. "And they taste even better," he said.

Toad ran to Frog's house. "Frog, Frog," cried Toad, "taste these cookies that I have made."

Frog ate one of the cookies, "These are the best cookies I have ever eaten!" said Frog.

Frog and Toad ate many cookies, one after another. "You know, Toad," said Frog, with his mouth full, "I think we should stop eating. We will soon be sick."

"You are right," said Toad. "Let us eat one last cookie, and then we will stop." Frog and Toad ate one last cookie. There were many cookies left in the bowl.

"Frog," said Toad, "let us eat one very last cookie, and then we will stop." Frog and Toad ate one very last cookie.

"We must stop eating!" cried Toad as he ate another.

"Yes," said Frog, reaching for a cookie, "we need willpower."

"What is willpower?" asked Toad.

"Willpower is trying hard not to do something you really want to do," said Frog.

"You mean like trying hard not to eat all these cookies?" asked Toad.

"Right," said Frog.

Frog put the cookies in a box. "There," he said. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."

"But we can open the box," said Toad.

"That is true," said Frog.

Frog tied some string around the box. "There," he said. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."

"But we can cut the string and open the box." said Toad.

"That is true," said Frog. Frog got a ladder. He put the box up on a high shelf.

"There," said Frog. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."

"But we can climb the ladder and take the box down from the shelf and cut the string and open the box," said Toad.

"That is true," said Frog.

Frog climbed the ladder and took the box down from the shelf. He cut the string and opened the box. Frog took the box outside. He shouted in a loud voice. "Hey, birds, here are cookies!" Birds came from everywhere. They picked up all the cookies in their beaks and flew away.

"Now we have no more cookies to eat," said Toad sadly. "Not even one."

"Yes," said Frog, "but we have lots and lots of willpower."

"You may keep it all, Frog," said Toad. "I am going home now to bake a cake."
******************************************************************
It’s always interesting to look at how each of the Gospels treats particular stories. Matthew and Luke tell us of the testing of Jesus; Mark gives it a couple of sentences, and John doesn’t even think it’s worth a mention.

It’s also interesting that in Hebrew, the word Satan means “the opposer”. Luke gives us a whole story; one of the interesting things about *this* version is that the “opposer” is quite literate in understanding of scripture. He knows exactly how to test Jesus, and in this wilderness where there is hunger for many things, knows what things would be hardest to resist. Of course, Jesus - even though he is tired and famished - and not quite all there - knows the answers. He knows how to say “No”.

For me, there are a few key things in this story.
It takes place in “the wilderness”, whatever that means. Is it a literal wilderness - and by that I mean, a desert? Or is it a place where there are no people - probably not hard to find. Or is it a journey inside the self - a place of unknowns, where Jesus really has to face himself, and is tested.

The Spirit led him, so we can assume he went relatively willingly; Luke implies he was filled with and inspired by, the Holy Spirit.

He didn’t take anything with him other than the clothes on his back. He was there forty days and nights, or almost six weeks. Now, forty is a good Biblical number, so let’s just assume he was in his wilderness for a very long time.

Now, if he literally went into a remote place, we can assume he was skinny, filthy, stinky, and pretty darned hungry.

So let’s try to put some of this together a little more. Jesus is inspired by the Spirit to go off by himself, somewhere away from people and food, to spend time with himself in silence. He knows that he has human failings, like everyone else; but he is also trained in the faith of the Israelite people, and after his baptism he is fairly sure he has a call to ministry. The one who opposes him tries everything - offering food, knowing he would be hungry; offering power, recognising his abilities. Jesus is able to say no, despite his hunger and despite recognising that he could have great power if he chose; he also knows what he would have to give up in return.

In the cycle of the Christian year, beginning with Ash Wednesday and ending on Easter Sunday, Christians have observed the period of “Lent” as a kind of wilderness experience. In some periods in the church, sacrifice and physical punishment of the self took place. But in general Lent has not been about “giving up” or “punishing” ourselves. The word Lent itself is derived from the Anglo-Saxon words lencten, meaning "Spring," and lenctentid, which literally means not only "Springtide" but also was the word for "March," the month in which the majority of Lent falls. Lent is to be forty days, not including Sundays.

Since the earliest times of the Church, there is evidence of some kind of Lenten preparation for Easter. Irenaeus, who died in 203 CE, wrote to Pope Victor I, commenting on the celebration of Easter and the differences between practices in the East and the West: "The dispute is not only about the day, but also about the actual character of the fast. Some think that they ought to fast for one day, some for two, others for still more; some make their 'day' last 40 hours on end. Such variation in the observance did not originate in our own day, but very much earlier, in the time of our forefathers" meaning the time of the disciples. Pope Leo, who died in 461 CE, preached that the faithful must "fulfill with their fasts the Apostolic institution of the 40 days," again noting the apostolic origins of Lent. The intent was that it was to be a time of prayer and fasting - as Jesus did.

The period of Lent and the emphasis on prayer and fasting is also a reference to the growth of the human soul, as if a plant. Gardeners know that plants have to be pruned, fertilised, mulched and watered. In the growth of the human soul, care has to be taken to ensure that it will grow and become green.

Winter can be seen as a wilderness time. Everything appears to die, and it’s only in the spring when the sun and rains come back, that the growth cycle starts. It may be that in order for our souls to grow, a little time spent with less rather than more, a little time cutting back on something really critical - might just be good for us. I don’t mean something frivolous like not watching one favourite TV show, or giving up cookies and baking cake instead, like Frog and Toad. I am talking about removing the things which distract us - perhaps we might say the things which oppose the growth of our souls.

This forty days of Lent is a gift to us for our wise use. It isn’t just a part of the church year with no meaning. Jesus went into a wilderness - whatever that meant - to learn about himself. Had he given in to any one of those very real human failings, the growth of his soul would have been stunted. We have a short forty days - just under six weeks - to learn again what is really important in life, and what our lives can be like without all the distractions we stuff into them. We do it one day at a time. We go, like Jesus, into a place of silence and prayer. We breathe, have a little water, and allow God to do some pruning and mulching, down there where the roots don’t really show.

The question is, when we get ourselves severed from the distractions, can we stand the silence? Silence can be pretty loud sometimes, can’t it? The question also is, can we stand ourselves when we look in there? What are we like in the wilderness? We have to ask ourselves what devils, what opposers are there in our lives? What opposers have our number? Do we really take spiritual time seriously? Or is there so much we just “have” to have in our life, that there is no time for a trip to the wilderness?

Sources:
1. “Frog and Toad” can be found at http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/t/temptation.htm
Ray & Anne Ortlund, Renewal, Navpress, 1989, p. 73-74.
2. History of Lent, by Rev. William Saunders. Arlington Catholic Herald.

“Coming Down from the Light” February 14, 2010 Transfiguration Sunday Exodus 34:29-35, Luke 9:28-43

2010-02-13T17:53:00.001-05:00

The long nights and the gray days
weary my body and bone
and I am lost in the last of winter.
The hungry blackbirds pick at the stalks
of another year’s growing,
mere skeletons in a ravaged field.
The old frozen snow is black, filthy stuff -
a remnant of longing and despair
from the white days of winter’s brightness.
If I did not know better,
I would be bleak and barren as the world.
But I have seen the glory -
seen the early green, the bulging bud,
the sun streaming through the seams
of the awakening maples.
I have seen the glory
of a world transfigured by Spring.
And so I squint through remembering eyes
at these wearying winter days,
daring them to do their worst, and say
“Just you wait. Just you wait.”

Moses goes up a mountain to speak to God, and returns with his face shining like the sun. He covers his face with a veil after that, except when he is in God’s presence - at those times he goes before God completely as himself.

Jesus takes three of the disciples up Mount Hermon - he is doing a bit of a mini-retreat - just needing some time to reflect, pray, gather himself. As usual, the three end up almost nodding off, but just as they are about to sleep, Jesus’ appearance changes - his face and clothes begin to glow.

In both cases, Moses and Jesus have a transcendent experience which changes them right at the very heart of their spiritual core - and the experience is so profound it shines out of them.

My colleague, Anna Murdock, refers to the ‘thin places’ of the world. Anna writes “I have a dear friend who calls such a time a “heaven-touching-earth moment.” I refer to this as a God-moment. There are no words to give name adequately to such a time when the Divine Veil has been lifted in one’s presence. The radiance, the glory, God’s Presence and our deep desire to put a time such as this into immediate words all cause some stammering on our part - even confusion as to what has taken place.” Anna goes on to say “I feel as if I have the word “PETER” written across my forehead, as my heart wants to blurt out words that will prove themselves to be a jumbled-up mess. It is then that a holy finger presses against our lips and we hear “Shhhh - this is my sonm, my chosen. Listen to him.” and the Divine Veil is lifted if only for a moment.

What is a thin place? To discern the difference between an ordinary place and a thin place, one must use a spiritual perspective. In simple terms a ‘thin place’ is a place where the veil between this world and the Other world is thin, the Other world is more near. This meaning assumes the perceiver senses the existence of a world beyond what we know through our five senses.

Truth abides in thin places; naked, raw, hard to face truth. Yet the comfort, safety and strength to face that truth also abides there. Thin places captivate our imagination, yet diminish our existence. We become very small, yet we gain connection and become part of something larger than we can perceive. The human spirit is awakened and will grow if the body and mind allow it. Simply put, a thin place is a place where one feels that mysterious power.

In his Spiritual Message to the World in 1931, Mahatma Gandhi said, “There is an indefinable, mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this unseen power that makes itself felt and yet defies all proof, because it is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses. It transcends the senses”

So Jesus and his three closest friends Peter, James and John up the highest mountain in the area. As they stop near the summit to catch their breath, Jesus’ face radiates light; his clothes became glistening white. Altitude sickness, all three of them? Could this have been what the Israelites had seen when Moses brought the Ten Commandments down from Sinai and his face shone so that he had to cover it?

The disciples had seen this glorious event in dumbstruck silence. Peter wanted to remain in the rarified atmosphere of this mountain-top experience and stop the clock. He had seen Paree; he didn't want to return to the farm. When he found his voice, he said to Jesus, "Master, it's a good thing that we are here; let us make three booths, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. Let's stay right here, Jesus. We've seen how glorious life can be. Let's preserve this glorious moment and not worry about going back from this light."

Jesus, you will note, didn’t even begin to try to answer. He had no words himself, and probably Peter’s stammering sounded like gibberish to him. He had a transfiguring and transforming experience which showed him what life could be, a glimpse of the incredible majesty and power of God.

And then - KLUNK!

All four of them stumble down from the mountain, still hyper-ventilating from the mountain-top experience. I am quite sure that Jesus was just as dumbstruck as the other three. It’s one thing to have faith, to believe that there is a God and to be committed to a life of prayer and ministry. It’s quite another thing to come face to face with that radiant glory, and walk away in any state other than tongue-tied.

Now, I’m interjecting a comment here - about lectionaries. If I had followed the lectionary, only the first part of this text - the transfiguration part - would have been included. But the following piece is critical to the whole story, because it is real life.

Moses, having been to one of those thin places and encountering the radiant presence of God, then has to come back down and try to explain to the Israelites. How mundane, to have to return from communing with God to explaining to a “stubborn and stiff-necked people” what his perception of God’s intent was.

So, we find Jesus and the disciples still pinching themselves, the three walking along with their eyes bugging out, Jesus probably wanting just to hold on to some quiet and reflective time; they get to the bottom of the mountain again and find a crowd waiting, and a man with an epileptic son, asking Jesus to help. The man says he asked the other disciples to heal his son, but they could not. And Jesus says the most human thing which I think ever came out his mouth. He says something like “Gawd, how long do I have to put up with this? Bring the boy to me.” Can you hear the utter exasperation in his voice? After such an experience, isn’t this the last thing one would want to deal with?

Remember, he’s just been to the mountaintop, had a transcendent spiritual experience, he is still mentally and spiritually back there. How mundane it must have seemed. How small compared to the grandeur of the previous moment. I can see him asking himself “Is this all there is? Is this what it’s about?” Was this experience destined to become, like so many religious experiences, only a dimly-remembered high moment in a never-ending sea of need?

Some of us may have had such an experience: a time when the universe makes sense, a glimpse of something far beyond the mundane of many todays - a time when we had no doubts, and found ourselves a part of the universe and could see with surety the next world.

Rev. Thomas Hall asks “why did this event become a treasured memory of the Church? What's the point of it? This experience doesn’t ever happen at my church-except maybe with the help of pyrotechnics and strobe lights. How do we relate to it?

He answers his own question. “This became an indelible memory because it could never be repeated. Some Christians go to the Bible stories to attempt to replicate what they read. Unfortunately, in the process, the Scriptures are turned into rigid formulae that now dictate our experiences. That's one reason we have so many versions of the Christian faith--we're trying to reduce the stories into rules, truths, formulae, and doctrines. And when we think we've got the truth we become intolerant of others who have discovered a different way to understand the same truth. Even our gospel writers place different interpretations on the Transfiguration experience. Mark sees it as a mountain top experience, Matthew as a vision, Luke as a prayer meeting. So let's be honest this morning and let this memory stand on its own without trying to squeeze it into our personal experiences.”

So we let the experience of transfiguration stand as it is - one brief moment of clarity and revelation - a stepping into a thin place for a moment, where two worlds touch; we catch a glimpse of radiant and transcendent glory. Then we come back to earth, to the people around us who hurt and need healing, to the ordinary and everyday, things which look drab and mundane. The trick is to look at those ordinary, everyday things which appear drab by comparison, remove the veil from our own eyes, and see the glory there as well.

Sometimes on the rarest nights
comes the vision calm and clear,
gleaming with unearthly lights
on our path of doubt and fear.
Winds from that far land are blown,
whispering with secret breath--
hope that plays a tune alone,
love that conquers pain and death.

Sources:

1. Poem “Late Winter”, by Rev. Tim Haut, Deep River Pastoral Charge, 2002.

2. Anna Murdock, from "Shhhhh....Listen!" Luke 9:28-36 Ponderings for Transfiguration Sunday 2010

3. A description of thin places, www.thinplaces.net

4. Sermon “A Mountaintop Experience”, by Dr. David Rogne, retired pastor United Methodist Church USA

5. Sermon “Prayer Mountain” by Rev. Thomas Hall, Mayflower UCC, Billings, MT.

6. “Land of Might-Have-Been”, song by Jeremy Northam, from the movie Gosford Park 2001.

“Here I Am.” Isaiah 6:1-13 Glen Ayr United Church 5th of Epiphany February 7, 2010

2010-02-06T19:09:00.000-05:00

My name is Isaiah, son of Amoz. I am a member of a noble family in the Kingdom of Judah. Because I was wealthy, as a young person I was not prepared to hear the cries of the poor nor to see the plight of the downtrodden in my country. As one of the aristocracy, I could pass these people by and never notice. If they had no food, no place to sleep, no access to any doctors, - it wasn’t my issue.

In my later years, I became more sensitive to the cries of such people, those beaten by life almost before they could walk. I found that I heard many things behind their words; needs, pain, ambitions, aspirations. I spent a lot of time pondering why it was that after years of comfortable living, I became more open and aware.

I have come to the conclusion that it was an experience of worship. By that I mean, that people's hearts and lives can be changed by worship. Now, I don’t mean the droning perfunctory performance of ritual, that which really kills religion. I mean authentic worship which engages and involves the mind and will of the worshipper. I have come to see that there are universal elements in our experience which can be applied by all people who seek to worship God authentically.

How does one get people to see what they don't want to see and to hear what they don't want to hear? For most of my life I've been trying to make people aware of the injustice prevalent in society so they would make some constructive response. I've been trying to get people to put their trust in God instead of possessions. I've been trying to get kings to put more emphasis on the needs of the poor and less emphasis on alliances. When Ahaz was the King of Judah, I went and urged him not to enter into an alliance with the Assyrians, for I was confident that they would one day turn on us. He ordered me to keep my mouth shut. That experience made me reflect on my vocation. I felt that God had called me to speak out, but if God had called me, why was I not more successful?

On reflection I decided my great change came from an experience of worship. So I began to reflect on what constitutes authentic worship. Here is what I decided.

The first element of authentic worship is focus on God. In the year King Uzziah, died, I went to the temple to pray. I stood in the vestibule, preparing to enter the sanctuary. I became aware that I was in the presence of God. I had been there so many times before that familiar rituals made no impression. This time was different; symbolism and ritual suddenly had life. The choir became heavenly beings, seraphim, doing what they were intended to do. The hem of God’s robe filled the entire temple - how much more was there which could not be seen? "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of Hosts." suddenly had real meaning. The table became the very throne of God, God’s voice was audible....

Many people, when they come to worship, see themselves as the audience; the preacher and musicians are the actors; God is in the wings, as the prompter. The congregation is then free to criticize: either it was a good show or it wasn't a good show; it made them feel good, or it didn't make them feel good; and how the congregation feels is all that matters.

In fact, the truth is the other way around. In authentic worship, God is the audience; the worshippers are the actors; the preacher and musicians are the prompters. Confronting the living God must be the goal of every act of worship, not kindling a glow in the hearts of worshippers.

In worship we need confession. When I realised God’s majesty, all I could say was, "Woe is me!" When you come face to face with the kind of power that created the universe and keeps it in balance, how can you not stand in awe? When you think what it means to be holy: to be working for others as God does, how petty we are in contrast; we, who strive to dominate others, to exploit our relationships, to get rather than to give; how can we do anything but admit our unworthiness? I had to admit that my righteousness was no match for the righteousness of God or for God's expectation of me.

To confess that we have been wrong, sinful, spiteful or careless requires humility, and it is hard for us to be humble. But if we do not start from humility, nothing in life will be right. Heartfelt honest confession is critical for authentic worship.

Another aspect of worship is cleansing. I confessed - I am a man of unclean lips, I said - and right away God’s cleansing began. In my day people burnt expensive animals on altars as a sacrifice to God, and the smoke would carry their gift to God. My sacrifice was my pride. I confessed my unworthiness through words. I felt as if my lips were set afire by one of the coals on the altar. But I was forgiven. Authentic worship assures us that we are accepted and thereby cleansed.

Finally, let me say that if we are really worshiping God, we should also be doing something. There is a time for contemplation, introspection, and repentance. But when we have been made right with God, we must work to balance meditation with action. Good religion serves others. Before that experience in the temple, I was so blinded by my own needs and desires that I took little notice of others. When I realised the staggering goodness of God, and of my own small -mindedness, the fact that I was forgiven, I heard a new sound - the voice of God. Where it was, inside me or outside, I don’t know. I felt the burning on my lips, I knew there was a consecration, but I also knew that to be consecrated meant to be taken from the normal. I know that God said "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" God must always have been seeking assistance to accomplish great tasks, must always have been calling people. Much to my own surprise, I heard myself volunteering: "Here I am, send me”, and God commissioned me to "go." My life had been completely changed.

The question of all of this, of course, is why. People of faith are called to walk in God’s way, when others seem to be walking a totally different direction. We live among people who hate - who find enemies in the world - and cling to a message about loving neighbours and enemies. We live in a world of rumour and war, and follow a God who suggests that when we are weak, we are at our strongest. We live in a world which measures by possessions, size, wealth, name - and yet we come to an ordinary table to share a common meal - a small piece of bread, as if it were sufficient for a meal; and a small sip from a cup, trusting that it quenches our thirst.

Going over all this with you has been very helpful to me. One's religion must never become cut and dried; it must never become something which took place years ago and has not been examined since. It cannot be an exercise in nostalgia, for the past was never as rosy as we remember it. Worship must be an ongoing, everyday experience of growth. Worship provides those opportunities for renewal which are necessary for every one of us. Of course, we must beware of just going through the forms and calling that worship. Authentic worship truly expresses adoration and confession, and truly leads to forgiveness and action. So action becomes an act of worship as well. We come here to listen for God’s voice, to be renewed, and to be sent out - to each other, to our community, and to the world. It must be those three.

Have you been worshiping authentically? There is a way for you to tell. God's voice is still saying, "Whom shall I send?" Into your home, into your work, into the life of your congregation and your role in it. If you have not heard God speak in worship, or heard but not responded, then your worship experience is incomplete. It is not too late. Today, you could say, "Here am I, Lord, send me." May it be so.

Sources:

1. Based on the sermon “Worthy Worship” by Dr. David Rogne, retired pastor, United Methodist Church USA.

2. Ronald Rolheiser, The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality (New York: Doubleday, 1999).

The Good Wine Isaiah 62:1-5, John 2:1-11. January 17, 2010 Glen Ayr United Church

2010-01-16T18:24:00.002-05:00

If Jesus could transform
common water
into wedding wine,
spit and dirt
into new sight,
troubled sea
into a pathway
well water
into living water
could Christ transform
the waters of my life
shallow
murky
polluted
stagnant
sour
into a shower
of blessing?

The late Scott Peck, in the book “The Road Less Travelled” began by saying “Life is hard.” As I discussed the readings this week with other clergy, the “why” questions kept coming up - why 9/11, why Hurricane Katrina, a 15 year old killed on a snowmobile, a diagnosis of terminal cancer, a young woman suffering a miscarriage...

...these “why” questions arise again in the aftermath of the earthquake which has devastated Haiti, a tiny island country already struggling to climb out from destruction of hurricanes. Whenever horrendous things happen, the most frequent question we all ask is “why”? For people who believe that God is Love, one of the questions we ask in such situations is “Where is God?”

In the midst of the Haiti disaster, we were treated once again to idiotic remarks by Pat Robertson, that the people of Haiti made a pact with Satan years ago to help them overcome the French, and now they are suffering because of that. Robertson, who is not a pastor in any way, and whose personal dealings and finances are highly suspect, presumes not only to pass judgment, but to twist history; after all, any black person who dares to stand up to white colonials must be evil. There is nothing more than racism at the root of his rhetoric.

Rev. Gord Waldie, in Thunder Bay, writes in his blog “For one author I read last year the question of evil caused him to give up on faith.” Bart Ehrman struggled with the varied Scriptural explanations of evil events (punishment, testing, mystery), and decided they were lacking. The reality is that there are no answers to such events except “because”.

So the question, in the face of such suffering, and such complete idiocy, is how can we continue to proclaim God’s goodness and compassion when the world turns upside down?

In our readings this week, Jesus attends a wedding. Weddings then were not the kind of ceremony we imagine; the betrothal was performed much earlier with a cup of wine, and when the woman went to live with the man, they were married. The celebrations often went on for close to a week - and wine was the safest thing to drink. The water was set aside for the rituals of purification.

Here is a wedding, and an impending disaster. If the wine ran out the host would be considered cheap, and chintzy. Most hosts put out the good wine first, got people going, and then served up the cheap wine when the guests wouldn’t notice. Think about this: Jesus created some 120 or more gallons of wine, after the cheap wine was gone.

I wonder what the servants were thinking. Water in the jars? But those are for ritual washing, purification. We can't use those jars for wine. We've never done that before.

Now take water out? Take it to the host? It's only water. He's already upset about how things are going. Smell it? It's only.......wait a minute! What is this? And who are you?

The Cana miracle opens Jesus’ ministry with a miracle of abundant grace, a miracle of hope and possibilities. John calls this miracle a “sign”. This name for miracle reminds us that miracles are more than spectacular action. They are signs that point beyond any one particular act or event to what can be seen of God in the miracle. This sign points to Jesus “glory”. In the Hebrew Scriptures, “glory” is the term for the manifestation of God’s presence. Jesus makes God’s presence known in the grace-filled abundance of the wine.

Wine was so vital to the culture and economy of Israel, that it took on important theological significance. Wine was used throughout the scriptures as a symbol of holy joy. Isaiah used the lack of wine as a sign of desolation, and an abundance of good wine was a sign of the arrival of God’s new age. Wine was a powerful theological metaphor that everyone understood.

And that's how it happens - this thing we call a miracle, the turning of water into wine. By faithfulness and grace ordinary human lives and the things we offer are transformed into something holy and life-giving for the world. The late Fred Rogers, of Mr. Rogers fame, was a Presbyterian minister. When he was asked where God could be found, he responded “Look for the helpers.”

Haiti has suffered a long, long time; earlier this week it looked as if the wine finally ran out. After generations of misrule and disorder, decades of oppressive government, and two years of small recoveries from hurricane damage, whatever fragile hope remained of rebuilding their nation was crushed in the rubbing together of giant tectonic plates below the surface of the ocean. This was not a judgement of God, but the result of a world still in the making, upon which the ground beneath all our feet is never as solid as we imagine.

In the wake of disaster, as a first impulse of God's Spirit at work, and before anything else can arise to stifle or qualify the response, relief and aid has flowed from all parts of the globe. The Chinese were the first to reach Haiti with first-aid teams and dogs trained to find survivors in the rubble; a search-and-rescue team from Iceland, who knows how many teams from other countries, the military from the States and Canada, World Development and Relief Emergency Response at the United Church, PWDR in the Anglican Church, United Methodist, Disciples of Christ, Doctors without Borders, international and religious medical teams and relief agencies all at work together to help bring something good out of the horrible thing that happened.

Six twenty-plus-gallon jars full to overflowing with ordinary human work and commitment, given as soon as the word was heard. Water upon water of charitable and humanitarian work poured into the gaping need. Each dollar and each act just a drop in the bucket, to be sure. But added together enough to keep hope alive, enough to maintain or restore faith in a living God, enough to give reason for thanks in the midst of an intolerable situation.

And isn't that what life is? Isn't that what the wedding feast called the earth is like? Disaster is not uncommon, things change and give way, the ground we stand on is never quite solid, but when we offer what we can in faith, in hope and in love, the incredible grace and abundance of God can be glimpsed in the midst of everything else.

What we give becomes more than we think it can be. Every dollar given is matched in relief funds - $200 from Glen Ayr becomes $1000 in aid.

In the world as in our worship, and in our worship as in the world, each drop in the bucket is important, for that is the only way the the jars be made full - as full as God desires and needs for the story of the kingdom to continue?

Water into wine; and from ordinary water, good wine flowing. It sounds miraculous.

Fat Tuesday Word Jazz

So in our need for hope for survival
It’s time to turn the pages of the Bible
To the wedding in Cana in the land near Galilee
Where Jesus and his mom enjoyed festivity
Noshing on the free eats
Eating on the free treats
Sipping on the red wine
Having quite a swell time
“Hey, bartender, can you top off my glass
What’s that you say? There’s no wine in the flask?
Ran out so soon? That’s so low-class!”

The crowd at the wedding
Lounged on the bedding
Watched CNN and PBS
ABC and CBS
About CFO’s and CEO’s
IOU’s and HMO’s
Waited for refills
Waited for bailout packages
Waited for stimulus checks
Waited for debt consolidation
Waited for mortgage restructuring
Waited for responses to their resumes
Waited for emails from personnel departments

Midnight rolled around
No more wine was found
Tuesday the party popped
Wednesday the party flopped
Jesus said “Let’s go
Come on, Mom, let’s blow.”

But Mary told him “No!
It isn’t time to go
The wine has got to flow
The people need to know
That – we can!
we can!
we can be full
we can be fillers
we can be healed
we can be healers
we can be free
we can be freers
we can be kind
we can be kinder
we can be loved
we can be lovers
we can be Love….

So make it so!”
She told her son
Who didn’t want
To be the One…

May it be so.

Sources:
1. “Where is God”, newspaper column by Rev. Gord Waldie
2. Sermon material from Rev. Susan Leo, Bridgeport United Church of Christ, Oregon.
3. Sermon material from Rev. John Shearman, retired United Church of Canada.
4. Tom Lane “Imaging the Word”, opening poem.
5. Bill Burklo, selected parts of ‘Fat Tuesday Word Jazz’ in the blog “Musings” from February 27, 2009.
6. “Water into Wine”, sermon for January 17, 2010 by Rev. Brian Donst, Emmanuel United Church, Hamilton, ON.

New Light in a New Year January 3, 2009 Epiphany Sunday Matthew 2:1-12

2010-01-01T20:23:00.000-05:00

Do you like to travel? You all probably know that Norio and I travel a lot, and love almost any mode of travel. In 2008 - between us - we went to Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Cuba, Japan, and the eastern US. Some of those trips were by land, some were by air, and some by sea. In 2009 we went to Panama, Colombia, the western Caribbean, Japan, Cuba, and the eastern provinces of Canada. Once again it was by land, sea, and air. Norio has just returned from yet another trip to Japan, and I am just preparing to go to the western Caribbean. We don’t seem to get tired of it. I’d say the only thing is we don’t get to spend nearly long enough in any one place, and always see just enough to make us want to go back and explore some more.

The first time I travelled was as a three-year old, moving from one town in Saskatchewan to another. Then, as a four-year-old, to yet another town in the northern parts of Saskatchewan; then as a 12yr old to Winnipeg, and as a 24 yr old to Japan - and of course on to Viet Nam, Australia and the US.

I suspect that travel is something which gets into the blood - especially for those of us who were children of ministers, where moving was a part of life all the time. I still feel a little sorry for my childhood friends, who have never left the home where they were born, never seen another part of even this country. They always comment on how busy Norio and I are, how do we manage it. The notion of travelling to other places frightens them.

Travelling, even going somewhere for just a few hours, changes us if we have our eyes, ears, and senses open. Last January, I went to a city in Colombia - Cartagena de Indias - for just a few hours - but in that time I saw the Museum of the Inquisition and heard tales of Spanish torture; saw a church where Jesuit priests who defended the indigenous peoples were slaughtered; and heard stories about the heroics of some of those priests. I saw enough of Colombia to be changed by the experience, and to want to go back again and learn more.

In Panama, I saw a country struggling to modernise itself - building everywhere - and heard the pride of people who now have control of their own destiny. They have a vision for their country, and are working to make it happen. If we are open to seeing, even such a short time can change us, because it changes how we see our own lives as well.

As we come into a new year, - 2010 - what is it which leads us as a congregation? What are the ideas, hopes, plans which may be born in us today? What ideas to we want to honour and worship? What is our potential for life in the future??? What makes us look up, look forward, step out on the road? There are many churches whose primary goal is keeping the doors open. I’ve served a couple of them. That is their star. They will follow that star with enthusiasm until either the church closes, or, until they realise that God has many bright lights which can lead s journey.

What about spiritual growth? Being a caring community, lively community of faith? What about faith exploration with young and old together? What about pastoral care and outreach being done by this congregation? If we can get ourselves out of “survival” mode, and spend more time focusing on what we are being called to be and to do now, where would the journey take us? Who else might be drawn to the light?

When the magi left their home countries, heading for Judea, they were not tourists, not on a trip to have some fun, or to get away from a cold Canadian winter. They believed their journey had a purpose of incredible importance. But stars don’t always shine in clear skies, and a trip following a star using hand-held instruments is full of danger. They were following a brilliant light, some of the time, but it was far away and not always reliable. They wanted to follow the way that they were being shown, even though they did not have a clear idea of where it would take them, but sometimes they could not see the way at all, and had to stop and ask for directions.

It sounds an awful lot like where we often find ourselves, doesn't it? We have some idea of where we would like to go as we look to the future. We know what kind of changes would make our lives better, and our world better, but we have no clear idea of how to get there. That is the part which frustrates us - because we are so used to having clear ideas about everything - that letting go and trusting even if we don’t see ready answers is the hardest thing to do.

And in the middle of all of this, Jesus is born; he is on a journey himself, growing up as a child of oppression, through pain and joy, being led by a light, and striving to teach people around him about what God is doing in the world. He trusted; he had questions, but he trusted God. We have to trust that the light which leads us will help us to set life-giving priorities. We have to resist being deterred when we find ourselves in unfamiliar territory, and on a journey which asks us to search even we cannot see completely clearly.

The magi didn’t know how the story ended - and in fact for them it didn’t end. They met Herod, and with a flash of insight knew that was not the way to go; they found the child, and knew they had found something special; and at the end they knew they could not return home the same way. They didn’t spend years in Egypt and then go home. If the story is true, they were in one place briefly - Matthew says the found the house where Jesus was, and offered their gifts. They might have stayed overnight, or a couple of days. Yet their lives were completely changed by the experience.

Throughout Advent, through Christmas, and into Epiphany we travel a road - to a town where Jesus was born, and then on into Egypt. We try, in this short season, to find new insight; to learn new things about ourselves and our faith. Today, with the Magi, we come to the house and find the child. We offer our gifts, and we leave again on the journey, trusting that God is with us.

Sources: With material from Rev. Tim Dayfoot, Orono Pastoral Charge, Ontario.

Glory to God! Luke 2:13-14, Col. 3:12-17 December 27, 2009,

2009-12-26T16:31:00.002-05:00

On Christmas Eve, around 6:30, I hopped into the car to come here. There was a bit of snow everywhere, just enough to add some sparkle - and unfortunately just enough to make the roads greasy. On the news, reports of accidents all over the city, one particularly tragic accident in which four men died when the scaffolding under them collapsed.

Here at the church, our absolutely wonderful youth were rehearsing their play. People were setting things up, and there was a generous and warm atmosphere around. The service came together as a piece, we sang Silent Night, and in that candlelight I saw faces glowing too.

Driving home, the Hallelujah chorus was on the car radio - and I bellowed along at the top of my lungs. Above everything, there was indeed angel song - oh, not MY voice, but the voice of the angels was there. “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill to all people.”

I found myself wondering again why it is that we have made such a commercial venture out of Christmas, that people rush to the point where they lose track of care, and end up either being hurt, or hurting someone else. I wondered why there were people working so late on a Christmas Eve; I wondered about the company that allowed such a shabby scaffold to be built and put people up there. I wondered about all the hurt people do to each other in so many ways, how we become so obsessed with the giving and getting, and the commercial ventures, that the voice of angels is drowned out. I know, this isn’t a new sentiment - but the contrast was particularly striking.

Humanly speaking things weren't really that joyful for Mary and Joseph either. The entire Christmas story is one of human dilemma. We have a tendency to romanticize it, but I doubt Joseph or Mary found it romantic. The whole of their known world was in bad shape, and they really didn’t want to be where they were. More than 2000 years later, we celebrate God's display of peace, and things are still pretty bad in the world. We are surrounded by a world that seems doomed to unrest. In the midst of such uncertainty, we're supposed to celebrate Christmas and sing "Glory to God in the highest!” and “Joy to the World!” like we really mean it.

Circumstances couldn't have been much worse for Mary and Joseph. There was no medical care for Mary or her baby, they could not even find a decent place to have the baby. There was a question surrounding the birth of her baby, since she and Joseph weren’t married. All of this was happening amidst a political crisis forced upon the Jewish people by then super-power Rome.

How do we sing “Glory to God” and “Joy to the World” in this world of today? In the letter to the Colossians, Paul - who is under house arrest and likely facing his own death for being a follower of Jesus - writes about relating to each other in the community of faith. He squeezes everything in - be good, kind, humble, patient, forgive each other, be thankful, help each other understand the way of Jesus. The instructions can be summed up in one line - “above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony”. His version of how to sing Glory to God, and Joy!!!

Apparently, in Paul’s mind, Christians have a choice about how to live. In his mind living out our Christianity--loving one another--may be like putting on a new, freshly washed piece of clothing. Putting on love….

I got to thinking about clothing, and how different cultures treat clothes. In Japan, for instance, putting on traditional clothing is a very exact process. Every piece has to be put on in a particular way. The whole ensemble is held together with a wide band of woven stiff fabric called an “obi”, tied on with.......if it is not put on properly, even if it does not all fall off - it will certainly look funny.

Stacey Nicholas, in Canton Missouri, talks about being a firefighter. There is a whole outlay of uniform, and everything has to be put on, and it is all important. There isn’t one piece which can be left off.

Paul’s instructions for living together - cast in the framework of putting on the virtues like clothing - include the one thing which is important. The text in the more modern translation uses the word “love”, but the original Greek translates the word “agape” as ‘charity’. While I don’t normally read from the King James version - it’s a little stilted for today - this translation uses the word ‘charity’.

“And above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness.” “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.”

So we live together, in a community which celebrates a birth of a child, and together we celebrate being children of God. We are asked to put on the clothing of charity - kindness, humility, peace, patience, gratitude, and teaching and encouraging each other. We are asked to sing - psalms and hymns and spiritual songs - and Paul says “Singing with grace in your hearts.” Above all else, we are asked to hear the song of the angels, and sing it back in full voice, wearing the clothing of faith - “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace and good will to all people!”

Sources:
1. “Last Words to Live By” a sermon based on Colossians 3:12-17 by Rev. Frank Schaefer.
2. Stacey Nicholas, Canton, Missouri

“We Need a Little Christmas” Micah 5:2-5a, Luke 1:39-45 Fourth Sunday of Advent 2009

2009-12-19T18:44:00.001-05:00

Haul out the holly; put up the tree before my spirit falls again.
Fill up the stocking, I may be rushing things, but deck the halls again now.
For we need a little Christmas, right this very minute,
candles in the window, carols at the spinet.
Yes, we need a little Christmas, right this very minute.
It hasn't snowed a single flurry, but Santa, dear, we're in a hurry.

So climb down the chimney; put up the brightest string of lights I've ever seen.
Slice up the fruitcake; it's time we hung some tinsel on that evergreen bough.
For I've grown a little leaner, grown a little colder,
grown a little sadder, grown a little older,
and I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder,
need a little Christmas now.

For we need a little music, need a little laughter,
need a little singing, ringing through the rafter,
and we need a little snappy "Happy ever after,"
need a little Christmas now.

Such a joyous seasonal song - and most of the time we don’t really listen closely, do we? We just sing along, smiling and tapping our toes, right? But there’s a kernel of reality buried in the middle verse.

Around this time of year, people often become depressed. Particularly if there has been a loss, there are questions about life, and faith. Does God really exist, was Jesus real, if the stories in the Bible are allegory and myth, what can we believe?

There’s a sadness, and even a little despair, hidden in this Christmas song....

“For I've grown a little leaner, grown a little colder,
grown a little sadder, grown a little older,
and I need a little angel sitting on my shoulder,
need a little Christmas now.”

Behind all the activity of Christmas, these are really the questions. Even people for whom religion doesn’t play much of a role ask the questions about Christmas. Was it real? Did Jesus exist? How do we know?

Well, unfortunately I am not one of the preachers who will tell you it’s all true. I am not even sure that’s the right question to ask. But let’s take a little side-trip into some of the parts of the story. Some of the things we have taken as literal are a long stretch from any reality. First, the date of December 25 isn’t the date of Jesus birth. Eastern churches celebrate it in January on the feast of Epiphany; in the second century, Clement of Alexandria pegged it as either April or May. The date we have was chosen by Constantine in the fourth century - an emperor who, at the time, was not a believer and wasn’t baptised.

Nothing in the Gospels suggests Joseph was an old man. He might have been older than Mary, who was likely about 14, but that would not make him OLD. Nothing says Jesus shared a stable with animals, and nowhere does it say the Magi who arrived two years after the birth were kings. Note as well that Matthew is almost preoccupied with the genealogy of Jesus, to try to prove who he was - but the genealogy doesn’t hold up; Luke is clear he is writing down what he has been *told* happened. Mark’s Gospel - the oldest - doesn’t mention it at all, and neither does John. The conception of Jesus is announced to Mary in Luke, but only to Joseph in Matthew.

Then there’s the notion of a “virgin” birth, or I should say, virgin conception. Aside from the fact that the word really meant a young woman of marriageable age, there is nothing in the original text which suggests that. Rudolph Bultmann, one of the great interpreters of the Hebrew Scriptures in the 20th C, states flatly that there is nothing in Matthew’s original infancy narrative which would point to such a thing, and that it was a later addition as the texts were translated into Greek. It would have been unheard of for the early Jews. David Jenkins, the former Anglican bishop of Durham, is reputed to have said “I wouldn’t put it past God to arrange a virgin birth if He wanted, but I very much doubt if He would.”

Is this what is really the important thing, though? Isn’t it possible to recognise these myths as part of the story which has grown up over the years around Christmas, without taking them absolutely literally? What was really important? To each of the authors of the four Gospels, the important thing was that they all believed Jesus was really the anticipated Messiah, who the prophets foretold. Each of the Gospels was written to point to Jesus as the one. They are not historic or literally true, they are literary devices to make a point.

And central to all of them was one major theme - hope. Hope in the face of great loss, hope in a future, hope in a life different from this earthly one, hope for a new kind of justice and compassion, hope for the coming of God’s realm in the here and now.

The Prophet Micah would recognize us and our time. He wrote to a nation in distress. Jerusalem was under siege, the economy was in tatters, the king had been humiliated, the people saw little hope. Micah sees that there is more to our existence than what we can see. There is also what God sees, and what God is promising to do. In spite of distress and despair everywhere, the messenger testifies to God’s future, which we may not see now, but which is promised.

We have something in common with the people of Micah's day. Many live in fear. We look, not to ourselves, but towards the seats of power for rescue, trusting that our leaders will meet our needs and the needs of the most vulnerable among us. We look to established professionals to protect us from perceived threats that make us feel vulnerable. We look for pat simplistic theologies which will simply hand us answers, and save us from having to grapple with the tough questions.

My friend, Rev. Judith Evenden, says “Micah is jumping up and down, desperately waving his arms and pointing us to a small, out of the way place in a town called Bethlehem”, where Hope would be born.

Funny how Micah knows us. Micah knows the ache in which we live today. Micah tells us that God is at work; in the nooks and crannies of the world, the townships and the barrios, the refugee camps and in the slums. God is at work among the homeless and the hopeless and the poor. God's activity is found off the map in the stables of the world. But Micah also tells us God’s activity can be found in us, if we let it.

The Hope which was born, the Love which was born, continues to be born into the world. Mary was not literally impregnated by the Holy Spirit, and while that has some importance, it really isn’t *the* most important thing in the story. Mary’s joy at having a child, and feeling that this child would do great things which would change the world - that is the Hope. The birth of that child was the Hope, and that is why we have the stories decorated with the elaborate myths.

This is the message of Christmas: that human beings have been impregnated with God's peace and love. Each child born into this world has great potential just as Jesus did, for each human is a beloved child of God. It doesn't matter where we are born, or to whom we are born.

The question to be asked is this: are we going to receive God anew at Christmas, to have God - Emmanuel - born in us? If we say yes, then are we ready and willing to be God's gift of hope and love to the world? Are we willing to let something be born in us this Christmas? And then are we willing to share ourselves as a God-given gift to the world?

We need a little music, need a little laughter,
need a little singing, ringing through the rafter,
We need a little Christmas now.

Sources:
1. Rev. Judith Evenden, Land ‘O’ Lakes Emmanuel Pastoral Charge, Flinton, ON. from the Advent IV sermon "What is There Yet to Be Born?".
2. Rev. David Shearman, Central Westside United Church, Owen Sound, ON.
3. Geza Vermes, The Nativity: History and Legend. Penguin Books, 2006.
4. “We Need a Little Christmas”, from the Broadway musical “Mame” by Jerry Herman.

Joy Shall Come Philippians 4:4-7 “Rejoice in the Lord always.” Third Sunday of Advent 2009, Glen Ayr United Church

2009-12-12T12:53:00.002-05:00

Friday evening, as I sat thinking about a sermon, I happened on the Christmas movie, “Home Alone”, followed by the movie “Prancer”.

In the first movie, there is an old man who is the neighbourhood grouse,and of course stories have grown up among the neighbourhood kids about him. The young boy who is the central character in this story encounters the old man in the church, listening to his granddaughter sing. The man says he never talks to his grand-daughter because he and his son had a falling out and don’t speak to each other. The boy suggests he might call his son, especially since it’s Christmas. Towards the end of the movie, the boy looks out the window, to see the old man hugging his granddaughter close, and the most profound joy on his face.

In the movie Prancer, a little girl finds a reindeer with a broken leg and nurses it back to health. She is convinced it is Prancer, one of Santa’s reindeer. The reindeer is set free in time for Christmas Eve, and wonder of wonders, it is indeed Prancer who is reunited with the other reindeer in time for Christmas. Jessica sees the light of the reindeer, and joy shines on her face, Prancer is alive and well. The Spirit of Christmas lives in the heart of a child.

Jesus said, in fact, that to enter the realm of God one had to become as a child. Buddhist wisdom tells us that as we get older we must become more child-like, in order to become enlightened.

For some reason, we have this nonsense idea that to be good Christians we have to be dour, proper, look bored, and above all look uncomfortable if we’re asked to anything which appears remotely joy-filled.

The great writer C.S. Lewis - author of the Screwtape Letters, and the Chronicles of Narnia, was anything but a dour, proper churchman. In 1947 Time magazine portrayed Lewis on its cover alongside a pitchforked, horned, and tailed devil. The magazine accused Lewis of heresy. His heresy, interestingly, was Christianity in a world gone awry. Lewis was a man of laughter and surprises, of jokes and joy. He had a ruddy face because he had a sunny heart. A publisher, in collecting selections from Lewis’s works for a book, called it The Joyful Christian.

Lewis identified joy as the highest and most sublime cause of laughter. For C.S. Lewis, the purest laughter on earth dwells in the kingdom of joy. When joy reigns in the land, the sound of laughter is never far away. Silvery volleys of laughter fall on every dale and in every valley of the countryside where the king of joy rules. In Lewis’s underworld kingdom of pride and selfishness, the devil Screwtape reserved some of his sharpest criticism for this seemingly hallowed laughter of joy. He found it utterly repulsive and repugnant to the ego-infested environs of hell. He attacked its exhilaration and merriment as inappropriate for creatures whose cardinal value is self-importance.

The Atlanta Journal, a while back, carried an article that which talks about depression, particularly around the holidays. Christmas is often a season of unmet expectations, because in some ways it touches the most idealized memories of our childhood; we get nostalgic over the loss of that time in our lives…over losing the ability to enter innocently into the joy of the season. The parties we thought would be great aren't; we see all sorts of ads on TV about toys and realize we can't get our kids everything they want. At Christmas dinner mom or dad gets drunk again, a family argument erupts, the car breaks down, a family member gets the flu and joy is sucked away.

In that same article an expert was asked if a person's faith plays a role in the holiday blues and the expert said no. What he was being asked was if a person's faith adds to the blues many have at this time of year. What he wasn't asked is if a person's faith helps with the blues. The answer to that question is yes.

The theme of joy surrounds the whole Christmas story. The angel said "I bring you good news of great joy" (Luke 2:10). Peter writes of the Jesus movement, "Though we do not see him now, we believe in him and rejoice with an indescribable and glorious joy" (1 Pet. 1:8). In the New Testament the word for "joy" occurs 60 times. The verb form, which means, "to rejoice" is used 72 times. If we do not see the New Testament as a book of joy, we fail to understand the message.

So, why don’t we have more joy today? Joy is not a prevalent attitude among modern Christians. How often do you hear people associate "joy" or "enjoyment" with their religion? A better term on many counts today would be "solemn." How often do we still succumb to the notion that our Sunday services should be “solemn” rather than celebrations of joy?? How often do we think we need to have quiet throughout the services? A congregation which understands the meaning of joy in our worship is a congregation which welcomes every age from the youngest to the oldest, with joy and laughter.

Well, what are the joy-busters in life?

I can think of one - anxiety. The scriptures tell us “Do not be anxious…” In the rush of the season, shopping, exams, service planning, extra activities, we become agitated and fearful. Clergy get into a panic because services have to be prepared, the church decorated in a meaningful which helps enhance the worship experience, we want to offer messages which provide food for the soul and the mind; you get anxious because of the extra things to be done, family gatherings, getting exactly the right gift for each person, and wondering if it’s good enough. But particularly at this time of year, we can know the joy of God if we remember God knows us, loves us, and is with us. We are known, and we know God.

Then there’s guilt. Guilt is a huge joy-robber, isn’t it? There is a reality - which we confess almost every week in our service, as a corporate body. We recognise that we all do things which are less than desirable - we all fall short of our own ideals, and the ideals of our faith. That is what sin is - falling short of what our faith calls us to be, and in doing so hurting ourselves and others. Our sins cannot be excused. But, in our confessions we are repentant and ask for forgiveness and the strength to learn to turn away from those actions in the future. Guilt is a tremendous joy-robber. So today, hear your pastor: I believe with all my heart that God loves and knows each of us, and we are all a forgiven people.

In our hymnbook, we have the wonderful closing chorus:
"You shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace;
the mountains and the hills will break forth before you,
there’ll be shouts of joy, and all the trees of the field
will clap their hands."

And on Christmas Eve, and the Sundays following, we sing one of the greatest hymns of Isaac Watts. Watts was in poor health most of his life, and for the last thirty years was an invalid, unable to leave home. He could have been bitter, instead he wrote: "Joy to the world, the Lord is come, let earth receive her King."

Joy is our theme in this season. Joy which comes from the knowledge of the love of God, the love which holds us in spite of ourselves. Joy shall come, even to the wilderness.

Sources:
1. Mars Hill Review 8 (Summer 1997) “Joy and Sehnsucht: The Laughter and Longings of C.S. Lewis” by Terry Lindvall
2. Sermon “All I Want for Christmas”, by Rev. Steve Jackson, New Song Church, 230 Elm Street, Cumming, Georgia. Dec. 2000.
3. Voices United 884 “You shall go out with joy”

Who is In??? Philippians 1:3-10, Acts 15:4-11 Glen Ayr United Church Second Sunday of Advent December 6, 2009

2009-12-05T16:45:00.001-05:00

The progress of the Gospel has often been held back by closed-minded religious people who block the doors and keep others out. The outcry when women were to be ordained in the church was fearsome to behold. If women were going to be ordained, the whole Christian movement would go to hell in a handbasket. Yet, today most mainline Protestant denominations have ordained women.

Two of the kinder arguments used are that Jesus didn’t ordain any women, that women cannot be a likeness of Jesus. Well, technically Jesus didn’t ordain any men either! This notion came much later in the history of the church. Jesus called women as well as men to be his disciples. Luke tells us of the women and men who travelled together. The Book of Acts tells us of the women who led churches. The first witnesses at Easter were Mary Magdalene and her friends. Genesis, in the creation story, says both male and female were created in the image of God, and it’s interesting that the Catholic Catechism also says that both men and women are made equally in God’s image.

In 1921, Archbishop Jan Maria Michal Kowalski began the Catholic Mariavite Church of Poland. In 1929 Izabela Wilucka Kowalska was consecrated a bishop. As Polish nationalsim grew, the group was persecuted by the mainline Polish Catholic Church, with the support of the Polish government. Innovations such as the endorsement of marriages between priests and nuns, and later the ordination of women as priests and bishops, took this group out of fellowship with the Catholic Church altogether. The group is led by a female bishop, and while considering itself the true church, the theology is very liberal.

During the 12-13C CE, the Cathars, also called Albigensians by Rome, lived in the area of Languedoc, in southeastern France, bordering on Spain. The Cathars rejected any idea of priesthood or the use of church buildings. They divided into ordinary believers who led ordinary lives, and an inner group of Parfaits (men) and Parfaites (women) who led ascetic lives, but worked for their living - generally in itinerant manual trades like weaving. Men and women were regarded as equals; there was no doctrinal objection to contraception, euthanasia or suicide. By the early thirteenth century Catharism was probably the majority religion in the area, supported by the nobility as well as the common people. Not only did many Catholics, priests included, defect to the Cathars, but the group refused to pay tithes to Rome. Accusing the Cathars of heresy, Pope Innocent III instituted a Crusade against the Cathars, and by the end over 500,000 people, Cathar and non-Cathar alike, had been killed.

Jumping back to the current times - many of us remember the debates over the admission of gays and lesbians to ordained ministry in the church. I would find letters on my desk at the national office, accusing gays of having sex with animals, that anyone who supported gays was outside the church, that the Bible specifically prohibited homosexual behaviour. At a meeting of General Council in Camrose, Alberta in 1997 - bags of dog poop were left on the chairs of people who were either suspected of being gay, or supported gay ordination. These things were always done either overnight, or early enough in the morning that no-one saw who it was. Walter Wink, who is Professor of Theology at Auburn Theological Seminary in New York, as early as 1978 put together a paper which managed to debunk every argument against homosexuality, and point out that the constant ethic in the Bible is love, and inclusivity.
Well, less than 20 years after Pentecost, Paul and Barnabas faced pretty much the same challenges. As long as there are institutions, and churches, and societies - there will always be arguments about who is in and who isn’t. Acts 15 records the most controversial and pivotal event in the life of the early church, because it called into question whether or not the church was a Jewish reform movement, a sect, or was becoming a wider movement where all racial and cultural barriers had been removed. Following his conversion, Paul had visited Jerusalem, met Peter and James, caused a stir there among the Jews, been shipped off to Caesarea and then home to Tarsus. He spent the next eleven years in Cilicia and Syria. Around 40-41 CE rumours of Greek converts in Antioch went around, and the Jerusalem church sent Barnabas to check it out.

Barnabas got on board, and together with Paul became pastor of a new church which was young, dynamic, and mostly Gentile converts. But the church in Jerusalem was strongly Jewish, and steeped in the Jewish traditions. The church leaders in Jerusalem thought that any Gentiles who wanted to follow Jesus had to become Jews first, by being circumcized. They could buy the idea that proselytes to Judaism like Cornelius could receive the Holy Spirit, for he was already a "God fearer", but accepting out and out pagans was another matter. Its wasn't long before matters came to a head.

On the first journey Paul and Barnabas witnessed to Jews and Gentiles alike. They founded churches in Antioch, Iconium, Lystra and Derbe in the Southern region of the province of Galatia. Again, and increasingly, it was the Gentiles who believed. The Jews got jealous and incited the rabble, and the authorities, to throw the apostles out of each town, one after another. When the dust had settled, and their visas were running out they turned round and worked their way back to the coast visiting each of these newly formed churches, and appointed leadership teams. Eventually they returned to home base, Antioch in Syria, tired but fully convinced of the rightness of their strategy. The hostility of the Jews, the responsiveness of the Gentiles, and the evidence of the filling of the Holy Spirit convinced them that it was the grace of the Spirit, not law or text, which decided.

In today’s first text, Paul prays that love will increase in knowledge and depth of insight. In the second text, the words of some believers who were Pharisees insisted that new believers must be circumcised and require to obey the Law of Moses. Peter points out that God made the choice that the Gentiles would hear the message; that God had given them the Spirit, and that God made no distinction between Jew and Gentile. And Peter asks “Why do you put God to the test?”

If we are followers of Jesus, then we are in fact followers of the most radical and inclusive way. Everyone receives wisdom and Spirit, regardless of race, language, age, gender, or sexuality. If God makes no distinction, we cannot either. If all are acceptable to God, then all are acceptable to us as well. There is no “in” and “out”. Our churches are open to all, recognising the gifts of the Spirit given to all. May it be so.

Sources:
1. Sermon by Rev. Stephen Sizer, www.cc-vw.org/sermons/ibsacts15.htm

2. www.catholic-womens-ordination.org.uk/old-site/against.htm

3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catholic_Mariavite_Church

“Moved by the Spirit” A sermon based on Acts 16:12-15 November 29, 2009 Advent 1 Glen Ayr United Church

2009-11-28T18:23:00.001-05:00

From there we traveled to Philippi, a Roman colony and the leading city of that district of Macedonia. We stayed there several days. On the Sabbath we went outside the city gate to the river, where we expected to find a place of prayer. We sat down and began to speak to the women who had gathered there. One of those listening was a woman named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth from the city of Thyatira, who was a worshiper of God; God had opened her heart to respond to Paul's message. When she and the members of her household were baptized, she invited us to her home. "If you consider me a believer in the Lord," she said, "come and stay at my house." And she persuaded us.
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Today’s text is part of Paul’s second missionary journey. Paul's intent was follow-up on all the churches he had planted on the first trip. Here, Paul goes to Philippi where there was at least one church. Philippi was a Roman colony, in the area of Macedonia. The first convert there was a woman named Lydia, who traded in purple cloth. Tyrian purple was a very rare and expensive color made from a Mediterranean snail, reserved for kings and royalty. Lydia was not poor; she had a good business, and was probably well-regarded in the community. Yet when Paul told her about Jesus, she and the members of her household were moved to become followers. She talked Paul into using her house while he was in the city - and her house was probably the first church - ekklesia - in Europe.

We have to remember that for the first three hundred and fifty years after the death of Jesus, there was no such thing as Christianity. The first followers of Jesus were all Jews, but as Paul travelled throughout the Middle East, Greeks and Romans also became converts. They didn’t meet in the synagogue, they didn’t meet in cathedrals - they met in homes. There were no churches in the sense we think of them.

As Paul was travelling, he also wrote letters to the newly-established house churches. In the early days, there were no written gospels. Paul’s letters to the churches were written long before the Gospels were, and probably after the death of Paul as well.

People being people, they hadn’t been in community long before differences about worship, the role of women, membership, and leadership arose. In large places like Corinth, there were several groups; so we have to take into account that there were many different communities of small house churches, with many different ideas about community and leadership.

Philippi was a Macedonian city , but also a Roman colony, so its house church communities would be based on a Roman model and Roman construction. One or more families formed a single house church, according to size of the household. Congregations met in the homes of more affluent members because they owned larger houses. Everything in such a situation favored the emergence of the host as the most prominent and influential member of the group. Eventually the strong leader of one house church might assume leadership throughout a city or section.

Some of the women did not behave in the way expected in Roman culture. They headed households, ran businesses, were independently wealthy, and traveled with their own slaves and helpers. In the congregations, women took on the same leadership roles as men. In Roman society, the assumption was that subordinate household members would share the religion of the head of the household, but that wasn’t the case in the house churches.

So - in the midst of a predominantly Greco-Roman political and religious world where there is a plurality of gods and worship styles, we find a minority religion called Judaism which worships one God - and emerging from that Jewish faith a smaller group of people who were labelled heretics. In every way, the Jesus movement was an emerging faith group.

The early house churches which formed the basis of what later became Christianity, emerged out of a messianic movement within an existing established faith tradition. But sometimes new forms of church come about because of political need. For example, the house church movement in China. They operate independently of the government-run Three-Self Patriotic Movement, China Christian Council for Protestant groups and the Chinese Patriotic Catholic Association and the Chinese Catholic Bishops Council. As non-registered religious groups they cannot independently own property, so they meet in private homes, often in secret for fear of arrest or imprisonment.

The Chinese house church movement developed after 1949 as a result of the Communist government policy which requires the registration of all religious organizations. This registration policy requires churches to become part of the Three-Self Patriotic Movement/China Christian Council set-up, which may involve interference in the church's internal affairs, by officials approved by the Communist Party of China's United Front Work Department. During the Cultural Revolution of 1966-1976 all Christian worship was forced underground. The official churches were closed, and the underground house church movement filled the need.

In the 1980's and 1990s in Japan, a movement called “mukyokai” began to emerge. Mukyokai means essentially ‘outside the church’. It was a house church movement, an attempt to establish small mission communities which incorporated understandings of the early house churches of Paul’s time. This movement emerged largely because of dissatisfaction with the rigidity of the established denominations in Japan.

The current “emerging church” movement is a product of the late 20th and early 21st centuries. It is variously described as evangelical, post-evangelical, liberal, post-liberal, charismatic, neocharismatic and post-charismatic. Participants seek to live their faith in what they believe to be a "postmodern" society. Proponents of this movement call it a "conversation" to emphasize its developing and decentralized nature, its vast range of standpoints and its commitment to interfaith dialogue rather than verbal evangelism. What those involved in the conversation mostly agree on is their disillusionment with the organized and institutional church and their support for the deconstruction of modern Christian worship, modern evangelism, and the nature of modern Christian community.

This is a really fast overview of some Christian church history - but it is clear that as long as faith and religion have been around, there have been emerging movements, groups which pushed change in the way we see the church. The Reformation started by Martin Luther is a good example. Emerging churches can be found all over the world. Some are independent churches, some are house churches, some are traditional Christian denominations. There is no one standard or “norm” for emerging church. The one commonality is that they are all struggling to find new ways to be church, to find ways to re-frame what it means to be church in a new world, in an ongoing way.

Today, the world in many ways has come full circle. With travel and the kinds of communication we have, we are back into a world where the Christian God and the Christian church as we knew it is once again, like the small groups in Philippi, a new form of church emerging. It is a long, slow, and often frustrating process. It is easy to want to stay with old habits because they are comfortable.

Advent, the first Sunday of a new church year, is also a time to begin to re-tell the story of faith - just as Paul and the early Christians did. We have to recognise what it is about our faith that is really important, and we have to tell the stories again - in some ways, we have to evangelise ourselves. I don’t mean nostalgia for a past time which we see through rose-coloured glasses. I mean we have to take the time in Advent to tell the stories again of why we are, who we are, and whose we are. We have to be willing to find new ways of speaking the stories to others, and to each other.

So today we turn our eyes to a star, to a birth, to a beginning of something new in the world. May the story be fresh in our hearts and on our lips, as we look for illumination, on the road to Bethlehem and beyond, to find a new way of being church.

Sources:
1. http://gbgm-umc.org/UMW/corinthians/housechurches.stm
2. www.churchinchina.com
3. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chinese_house_church
4. www.kantohousechurches.com
5. “A Lot More Here than Meets the Eye”, Acts 16 sermon by Michael Fischer.

The End of All Things???? or the Beginning??? Acts 2:1-41 November 15, 2009

2009-11-14T21:45:00.001-05:00

There is a scene in the Lord of the Rings stories, just near the end. The two hobbits, Frodo and Sam, have carried the ring of evil all the way to Mount Doom, where it was created. They have thrown it back into the fires where it is destroyed. They just get out before the mountain erupts - and we see them marooned on a huge rock - lava flowing all around them, the mountain blowing rocks and flames. They weep about what might have been, and Frodo says to Sam “I’m glad you’re here with me, Samwise Gamgee, here at the end of all things.”

The city of Jerusalem was a busy place during the celebration of the first harvest, the Feast of Weeks known as Pentecost. Pentecost was part of the Hebrew celebrations in the religious year, and for the disciples it was a natural thing to go to Jerusalem for their religious observances. Many people would be there, to be part of this celebration to commemorate God's bounty to them in the first harvest of the year. Others would be there on a pilgrimage, or to study there, or just soak up the richness of their Jewish heritage. It was in this time - around 30 AD - that the unexplainable happened.

Jesus had already promised the coming of the Spirit. On a much earlier occasion, Jesus had stood, at the later harvest celebration, the Feast of Booths, and offered an invitation:
"If any one is thirsty, they can come to me for drink. The Scripture says that whoever believes, from their “innermost being rivers of living water shall flow.'" John tells us that the disciples had not yet received the Sprit, because Jesus was not yet glorified.”

Well, why Pentecost now? Didn’t we just have Pentecost in the spring? Yes, we did. But Pentecost is not just one Sunday, nor even really one season. Pentecost - the coming of the Spirit - should be all year every year. In our church year, today is the last Sunday in the season of Pentecost. Next Sunday is the last one in the Christian church year - known as Reign of Christ. The Sunday after that is the beginning of a new church year - the first Sunday of Advent. We also have a study group beginning, called “The Church We Are Becoming”, based on the Book of Acts. The very first part of the book of Acts is about the coming of the Spirit, and the time of Pentecost.

There is something extremely important here, which is crucial to our life as a community. If you minimise, or remove, the work of the Spirit, you have taken the very core out of Christianity. Without the Spirit, Christian discipleship would be impossible. There is no life without the power which gives life, no community without the Spirit.

The disciples were all together on the day of Pentecost, and they really had no idea what was going to happen. They only knew that Jesus had told them to wait in Jerusalem. The sudden-ness of the arrival of the Spirit took them all by surprise, and they were taken aback - and likely frightened. It was a noise like a mighty rushing wind, "a violent, rushing wind," and all the people were totally "immersed" in the Spirit.

Together with this mighty wind, appeared "tongues as of fire," offers us a marvelous picture of what the Spirit was doing. But we need to be careful that we do understand what the passages here mean. The kind of tongues mentioned were known languages - much as Danish, Swiss and Austrian are related to German, or so the languages heard were similar, and yet different. Far from being simply noises or sounds, they were able to communicate in the known languages or dialects, and be understood. Nor was it a forced or artificial experience, but the Spirit making it possible, opening them to understanding in a new way.

In the same way, today, the Holy Spirit is working in us. We want to be sure that we don’t do anything to inhibit the work of the Spirit. The great German theologian, Jurgen Moltmann, talked about the church in the “power of the Spirit”. For Moltmann, the church is the open community of the Spirit, and the active ministry of the church community. It cannot happen without the action of the Spirit. This means, of course, that the church is always “becoming” something else. It means that the church always has to be in the process of reinventing itself - or perhaps I should say being reinvented by the Spirit.

I come back to the two small hobbits, Frodo and Sam, there at what appears to be the end of all things. They both believe that their lives are over. They weep for what might have been. But the cataclysmic changes, far from being the end of all things - turn out to be a new beginning in which the worst side of the human condition is overcome, and replaced by true peace, true shalom.

It seems to me that is the meaning of Pentecost and the coming of the Spirit, A fresh wind blew through Jerusalem, and with it came dramatic changes - but for a reason. What may appear to us to be the end of things, or the end of something as we know it, has all the potential to be a beginning for something fresh and energetic, something which calls on the discipleship of all of us, to do whatever it is we can with optimism and energy. May it be so.

“Food for the World” October 18, 2009 World Food Day Matthew 5:3-12, Luke 6:20-26

2009-10-17T19:10:00.000-04:00

“When I feed the poor they call me a saint. When I ask why the poor are hungry they call me a communist.”

These are the words of Dom Helder Câmara, archbishop of the Brazilian diocese of Olinda and Recife who was brutally murdered on August 27, 1999. Dom Helder Camara was 90 years old when he was murdered. He was internationally acknowledged as “a man of God and a defender of the poor.” Known as “the red bishop,” he was a source of embarrassment for the military regime. For many years he was subjected to endless interrogations and threats. Considered a threat to national security, he was adamant that he was no communist, no Marxist, and no subversive. Yet he spoke out when others were silenced. From 1970 to 1983 he was banned him from public speaking in Brasil, and his name could not be published in any Brasilian media. He turned to speaking out in the international sphere.
Cardinal Arns of Sao Paulo said of him: “Dom Helder is a poet, a mystic and a missionary. As a poet he knows how to say things and the people understand what he says… As a mystic, he lives praying, and passes his whole life always with God… But he is also a great missionary, a man who brings the ideas of God to the hearts of people. I have no doubt that he is the greatest man of the Church in Brazil.”

On this World Food Sunday 2009, signifying the end of World Food Week, the words of Dom Helder Camara still hold today. Camara spoke of finding a way to put food into the mouths of every person on earth. For that he was branded a communist. Ten years later, the world is no further ahead, and in fact is beginning to slide.

The world economic crisis has brought into stark relief the extreme fragility of the global food system. For the first time in history, more than one billion people are undernourished, 100 million more than last year; one in every six persons is hungry every day. This is not the consequence of a poor global harvest, but rather is the economy, which has reduced incomes and employment opportunities, and significantly reduced the access of the poor to food.

Hence, the theme chosen for World Food Day this year is “Achieving food security in times of crisis.” While the fallout from the global crisis still dominates the news, it is of paramount importance to remind the international community that the crisis is stalking the small-scale farms and rural areas of the world, where 70 percent of the world’s hungry live and work.

Developing countries are now more financially and commercially integrated in the world economy, so that a drop in global demand, supply, and credit availability has far more immediate repercussions on developing countries. At the same time, foreign aid to the poorest 71 countries will decline by 25%.

The stark fact is that unless substantial and sustained remedial actions are taken immediately, the World Food Summit target of reducing the number of hungry people by half to no more than 420 million by 2015 will not be reached.

It is not only financial resources that are needed. A whole series of fundamental problems need to be resolved: how aid is channeled, how it reaches small farmers effectively, reform of the world food security governance system, and an increase in the share of national budgets dedicated to agriculture and private sector investment.

Jesus directly addressed such issues. It is unfortunate that two thousand years later, the same inequalities, prejudices, and inequalities exist. It was Jesus’ way to point out how things will be turned around, so that those who think they come first might find themselves in a different position. Granted, worrying about whether we come first or last is not a reason, in itself, to work for changes to inequalities. But Jesus’ consistent theme was that the last shall be first in the realm of God. The intent of Jesus’ teaching was that if human beings actually worked to bring about the realm of God now, those who are poor, hungry, crying - would find themselves being treated with dignity and care, with food on the table, a roof over their heads, freedom to get an education, and good health care.

Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh.
But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep.

It’s interesting to compare the Matthew version, called the Sermon on the Mount - and Luke’s Sermon on the Plain. Matthew only includes the blessings, while Luke has Jesus giving both blessings and curses. Matthew addressed spiritual poverty, spiritual hunger, and spiritual grief. Luke seems to address physical poverty, physical hunger, and physical grief. For World Food Day, it seems to me the two complement each other. If you are physically poor, then your spirit is in danger of becoming more constrained to the narrow world of struggling from day to day. If you are physically hungry, and your body begins to waste, your heart and your spirit will starve as well. Dom Helder Camara understood this, I believe, and worked out of that understanding. His focus was on poverty and hunger, and the world systems which created that hunger.

Former US President Bill Clinton received an honorary Doctorate from McGill University this weekend. One of his comments, while addressing the issue of health care in the US, is also absolutely pertinent and apt with regard to global hunger. Clinton said “It's simply going to be impossible for us to build the world we need unless in the wealthy countries, we are ruthlessly honest about where we are wasting money and hanging on to yesterday's way of doing things."

“If I give food to the poor, they call me a saint. If I ask why the poor have no food, they call me a communist.”

Sources:
1. Biography of Dom Helder Camara, by Fr. Tony Lalli, from the Xaverian Mission Newsletter
2. Jacques Diouf, Director-General, Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations
3. Former US President Bill Clinton, McGill University Friday October 16, 2009.

A Life of Gratitude Mark 10:17-31 October 11, 2009 Thanksgiving Sunday

2009-10-10T18:01:00.000-04:00

There was a special brightness to the day as you rose in the morning. The sun shining through your window added particular radiance to morning prayers. The air around you felt vibrant and alive. You felt as if today would be a special day.

You moved out onto the street, and people stepped out of your path. They knew you were important, but they also thought you were greedy. They kept their distance, just in case you cast your eye on their possessions.

You had space to see everything going on around you. With your clear sight lines you easily noticed some people setting out on a journey. Unlike most groups of travelers, trailing behind these people were women carrying children, Pharisees shouting questions, and sick people who pleading leader of the group. You could see the man was the new teacher named Jesus who everyone seemed to be talking about, how he could teach, and heal. People were even saying he knew the way to eternal life.

So you join the crowd following after the travelers. You hurry to the head of the group, up to their leader, and throw yourself down at his feet, and you ask Jesus about the question burning into your mind..

"Good teacher," you blurt out, "what must I do to inherit eternal life." Jesus replies to your question.

"You know the commandments: You shall not murder; you shall not commit adultery; you shall not steal; you shall not bear false witness;you shall not defraud; honor your father and mother."

"Teacher," you declare to Jesus with a little smile, " I have kept all these since my youth." Jesus smiles in return, and you know he approves of you. Again he responds.

"You lack one thing; " he says to you. "Go, sell what you have. Give all the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, and follow me."

Ouch. Gasps of shock from the listeners around, and dismay. Here is a man who has followed all the rules all his life. He comes to Jesus looking for validation that everything he has done is sufficient. Wham! Jesus says ‘Well, there is one more thing.’ Jesus then posits what seems to the young man an almost impossible task - to sell everything he has and give it away to those who need much.

In the culture of the time, if someone was of good character, then all good things came his way as a matter of course - it was assumed that if someone was wealthy that person was also good; if someone did not have good character he would not be wealthy, and thus if he was not wealthy it must mean he did not have good character. Essentially, prosperity and virtue went together.

Jesus essentially says to this man that the reason for discipleship is not the promise of reward. The man asks Jesus “what must I DO to enter the realm”, and Jesus answers with an action which is more extreme than obedience to the commandments.

Margaret Visser's most recent book, "The Gift of Thanks", addresses a social ritual we take for granted. How many times did your mother tell you to say "Please" and "Thank you"? It is part of our ritual of politeness, and we get irritated at people who don’t say thank you. In Japan, it is even more so. Thanks must be given at every opportunity, and there is a ritual of thanks for every occasion. If you are invited to someone’s home for dinner, and you then don’t see them for another six months, when you do see them you have to say thank you yet again.

Margaret Visser responds to our 21st century experience of dismissing thanksgiving when we say "I don't need gratitude. Everything I want I can buy." She says that "We often forget that it is not gratitude and giving, but advantages taken for granted, and then unshared, that are much likelier to produce and encourage both differences in status and injustice."

A quick Google of “gratitude” brought some interesting results. The website for Café Gratitude - a chain in California - focuses on locally grown foods and an attitude of being generous and grateful.

Then I found a page called Gratitude Quotes. Rev. John Henry Jowett was born in Halifax, England, and served pastorates there. He lived from 1864 to 1923, and for a time was minister at Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church. He said "Life without thankfulness is devoid of love and passion. Hope without thankfulness is lacking in fine perception. Faith without thankfulness lacks strength and fortitude. Every virtue divorced from thankfulness is maimed and limps along the spiritual road."
He also said “The real measure of our wealth is how much we would be worth if we lost all our money.”

This goes directly to Jesus’ comment to the young man, who had observed all the virtues, all the rules, and yet was missing the one critical thing.

The rich man came from a detailed, rule-based religion, and was asking a rule - based question. His culture told him there must be a rule-based answer, one which could be fulfilled in much the same way other rules were fulfilled.

Jesus responds first to being called “good teacher”, reminding the rich man that "good" is not a compliment one tosses around in polite company, but a particular state of being that only God inhabits. Second, he says, the rules are clear, there are ten. Follow them.

But this rich man knows something else is needed, and so does Jesus. That is where gratitude enters the story. This rich man has all the advantages - money, comfort, enough food, enough clothing, respect. But he takes it for granted; he assumes it is his right to have it. Jesus is clear he needs to share what he has with others in order to fully enter God’s realm.

Margaret Visser’s phrase sticks with me - advantages taken for granted, and then unshared, which produce and encourage differences in status, and injustice. There, I think, is the key to this Gospel reading. Here was a wealthy man who took for granted his advantages, and did not share them. Jesus directly tells him that sharing can create a difference and right an injustice.

I don’t for a moment think Jesus really was telling the man to literally sell everything he had and give it all away. I think Jesus was telling the man that by sharing what he has, he demonstrates his gratitude to God, and brings the realm of God a little closer.

Sources:
1. Inheriting Life, a sermon by Rev. Frank Fisher, Waltham Presbyterian Church, Utica, Illinois.

2. Rule Based Answers, Thanksgiving sermon by Rev. David Shearman, Central Westside United Church Owen Sound, Ontario.

3. Margaret Visser, “The Gift of Thanks”, HarperCollins Canada, 2008.

4. “Feasting on the Word”, David L. Barlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds. Westminster John Knox Press, Louisville. 2009.

5. Rev. John Henry Jowett 1864 - 1923.

Bread and Roses Hebrews 2:6-12 Sunday October 4, 2009 World Wide Communion Glen Ayr United Church

2009-10-03T22:31:00.000-04:00

It has been testified by others before ; “What is the human race, that you are mindful of it, the son of man, that you care for him? God made the son of man a little lower than the angels, and gave him honour and glory." In giving everything to humans, nothing was left that is not subject to God. At present we do not see everything subject to God; but we do see Jesus, who was made a little lower than the angels, now crowned with glory and honor because he suffered death, so that by the grace of God he might experience the life and death of humans.
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Yesterday afternoon, I led a memorial service for the sister of a long-time friend. My friend is Japanese Canadian married to a Chinese Canadian. She, her sister and brother, were born Buddhist, but the circle of friends spanned all faiths and cultures. At the reception, people sat around large tables to eat. In the course of an hour and a half, seven different people came to sit and tell me about their experiences with the church. Each of them was on a spiritual quest, each was seeking something, each had no trouble saying they were searching for a spiritual centre, yet the church was clearly ruled out as a possibility - mostly because of the experiences they had as children and young adults growing up in the church. I heard stories of lasting psychological damage, of broken relationships, of an absolute and repressive way of thinking which, in the words of one person, shut down the soul instead of encouraging it to grow. The question was very clearly asked: “Isn’t religion supposed to open us up to the universe, not cut us off and destroy our creativity?” One person said that although he wasn’t religious, he recognised that there was heart in the service which touched people. Another one spoke of the absolutism of his church which he had rejected, but how good it was to hear someone preach about hope, rather than certainty in the future. I heard about experiences as an immigrant to this country, being discriminated against and pushed aside, being the “other”.

And there we were - several strangers around a table, eating and laughing, sometimes crying and sniffling. I noticed that people were very caring about each other - even those they didn’t know. They were serving others, and they were being served by others - and both giving and receiving with grace. We had sushi and green tea, sandwiches and coffee, Yiddish pastries, nanaimo bars, cream puffs, Japanese rice dumplings. We shared around a table where everyone was welcomed, everyone fed and nourished, and not just with food. As we ate, someone accidentally broke a rose off one of the flower arrangements, and they picked up the rose and put it in the centre of our table. It was rather disconcerting, as I had called my sermon “Bread and Roses” . It was also disconcerting because I was worrying about how to put the sermon together, and here in a room of mostly strangers, the sermon became real.

So I went looking for the poem by James Oppenheim, written in 1911, called “Bread and Roses”. Two lines jumped out - because they seemed to mirror the conversations around the table:

“Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes--
Hearts starve as well as bodies: Give us Bread, but give us Roses!”

I couldn’t help but bring this to bear on the passage from Hebrews - that Jesus was made in exactly the same way as all other human beings are made, and experienced the same life and death that all human beings. He suffered pain and illness, he got grouchy, he got elated, he got tired, he got hungry and thirsty - and sometimes he was estranged from his faith community. He grieved for the loss of friends and felt helpless when death entered his closest circle.

I was also reminded that Jesus ate around tables with strangers - with whatever food was common to their culture. He didn’t insist that they share his faith, or that they observe all the minutiae of Jewish observances. He didn’t, so far as we know, invite them to attend synagogue with him. But he knew what Oppenheim wrote, that hearts starve as well as bodies. Hearts need to be fed, to be opened and uplifted to the world, not crushed and broken. Jesus was more interested in what kind of people they were, how they treated others around them, and lived by example. He spoke about loving, sharing, and caring. Jesus’ table was wide open to anyone who wanted to be fed - literally or spiritually - bread, and roses. Jesus’ table was a symbol of God’s gift of grace and community to all peoples, regardless of faith.

I had the feeling yesterday that the table of eastern and western food, green tea and coffee, was representative of the world wide table of God’s family. People of every ethnic descent were in the room, sharing a meal and their lives together.

Isn’t that what this table, today, is meant to be? Yes, it is communion Sunday for all the Christian churches, but it is also a day when we can make an open statement about the grace and generosity of God in creation. It is found around a common table, with ordinary food, and people who care. God’s table is wide open - to nourish the body and the soul, to give us space to grow and expand our souls and our lives. Bread, and roses. May it be so.

Sources:
From the poem “Bread and Roses”, by James Oppenheim, first published in The American Magazine, December 1911.

Wisdom and Courage? September 27, 2009 Esther 7:1-10, 9:20-23 Glen Ayr United Church

2009-09-26T23:34:00.001-04:00

What a lovely story we have today - a fairy tale right in the Bible. A beautiful Queen who shows great courage, and a King who shows great wisdom. Or is it?

One of the things the lectionary doesn’t do is give us entire stories. In this case we’ve missed the opening of the story, and the middle - which are pretty critical parts. So let me tell you the rest.

In 589 BCE King Cyrus decreed an end to the forced captivity of the Hebrew people. One hundred years later, the story begins with King Xerxes and his wife Vashti, considered a most beautiful woman; Xerxes ordered Vashti to parade herself in a kind of beauty pageant; Vashti refused. Because of her refusal, Xerxes ordered her killed - and then searched the kingdom for another woman to be his queen. Esther was found, and became the wife of the King. Her uncle, Mordecai, also her guardian, suggested that she not say that she was a Jew.

The King’s adviser Haman plotted to get rid of Mordecai, and slaughter the Hebrew people. Mordecai learned of the plot, and sent a message to Esther, who decided to speak with the King. Two nights in a row, Esther and Haman and the king had dinner, and Esther told Xerxes that she was a Jew. She asked him to spare her people. When Xerxes learns it is Haman who is the leader of this movement, Haman is hung on the very gallows which was to be used for Mordecai.

Here’s the missing part before we get to the feasts and celebrations. The Jews, led by Mordecai, then proceed to slaughter virtually everyone perceived to be an enemy. The edict for the killing was extended for an extra day, and the ten dead sons of Haman were hung in public. It is a violent and bloody massacre, ostensibly in self-defense.

Then, because the Hebrews were spared, the people are told to celebrate and feast their deliverance, on the 14th day of the month which had been set for their extermination. This is the beginning of the Feast of Purim. It is not a Holy Day, but nevertheless a day of observance. They dress up in costumes, and have big parties - but during the party time everyone stops while the whole story of Esther is read.

Rev. Judith Evenden, says that “at one level it is a great story of victory over oppression.” The victory of Esther, and in fact the courage of Vashti! Where all of us preachers get squeamish is the massacre, after the threat of their being killed had passed. Judith asked for some comments from Rabbi Ruth Abusch-Magder. (1)

“This is a relatively late biblical book. The story is one that has no connection to history in a way that makes sense. As a result, one must view it as a farce; a carnival story written by a diaspora people, disempowered and imagining their potential to reinvent themselves and avenge the wrongs perpetrated upon minorities.” (2)

So at one level this is nothing more than the wishful dreaming of a people in exile - a king who is a buffoon, a cartoon-character villain who comes to a sad end, a woman who outsmarts most of them.

“One of the four ritual obligations at Purim is to read Megillat Ester, the scroll of Ester. We are obligated to listen to the whole story, start to finish. Despite what one might think sitting in a contemporary synagogue with noisemakers, we are obligated to hear every word of the story. We cannot gloss over the challenging parts. We need to pay attention to the frivolity of the King, his excess of food and drink, and the consequences for those in his immediate family and those over whom he reigns. The Jewish people are both the victim and the beneficiaries of the King's tendency to indulge. His lack of involvement allows for his advisor Haman to pursue a personal vendetta against the Jews. But his fondness for food and drink (and beautiful ladies) draws him to Ester's feast where he is persuaded to save the Jews.” (3)

In fact, the house of King Xerxes is not a house ruled by wisdom. Xerxes prizes only the beauty of his wife Vashti. His murder of her sets back women’s freedoms throughout Persia; internal plots and intrigue bring the life of the entire Israelite nation to be in danger. Esther’s actions do save the day, but they leave the Persians not in awe of God, but in mortal fear of the Israelite people. Her request that her people be spared results not in peace, but in a death warrant based in the rationale of self-defense. To the contrary, Esther’s actions kindle a violent civil war.

We watch Haman, whose single-minded evil and anger leads to his undoing. We learn that physical survival is full of challenge. For Esther, surviving means giving up her name and community, going into hiding, being sexually compromised. Mordecai has to give up his ability to protect her, and has to rely on the protection of others. (4)

If we use the Hebrew practice of ‘midrash’, interpreting the text in its historical context, and then interpreting it for modern times, one of the messages that sits in this story is the ability of those who are oppressed to become the oppressor, and we see that the lines between power and powerless, frivolity and insanity are not as clear as we might like to think.

For example, Zimbabwe. From being a revered leader of an oppressed people, Robert Mugabe has become the oppressor, even of his own people. He demonstrates clearly that those lines are not as clear as we might like. Think back to Idi Amin and the nightmare of Uganda; or the horrors of Angola.

The Jewish people have been the object of hatred in many parts of the world for centuries. Six million Jews were exterminated during World War II. Many Jews changed their names, or lied about their origins, just as Esther did - fearing persecution. As of 1950 the historic home of both Jew and Arab was divided into Israel and Palestine. Yet in its claims of self-defense, Israel has slaughtered many, even while holding up the Holocaust to the world. Land which is rightly that of Palestine is being taken over and settled. In my mind this is an example of the oppressed becoming the oppressor.

But Israel is not all to blame. The Palestinian leaders deliberately provoke response. They know full well that if they attack Israel the response will be swift and devastating. Innocent people are used as shields and become collateral damage. Should Palestine ever get the upper hand, I am sure they would do exactly what is being done. Both claim they act in self-defense.

I keep returning to Rabbi Ruth’s comment - that the lines between power and powerless are not as clear as we might like to think. So how does this relate to us as Christians? On a global scale it’s not hard to comment, but what about the local?

The characters in the story did not use their power for the good of others, except perhaps Esther. The king, Mordecai and Haman had power and each used it unwisely; Esther, who was supposedly powerless, found great power and used it wisely.

Here in this congregation I think the question is how do each of us use our power? Do we try to use it to be destructive, or do we use it to build up others around us, for the good of the whole. - or do we use that power to try to tear down? We all have power - whether or not we have identified it. I believe the lesson we can take from this story is how we use the power we have to build our congregational community, the body, so that the whole body is healthy and productive.

Sources:
1. Rev. Judith Evenden, Land o’ Lakes Emmanuel United Church congregation.
2,3,4. From a sermon by Rabbi Ruth Abusch-Magder, scholar in residence at University of Chicago Hillel, Director of Joint Commission on Sustaining Rabbinic Education.
5. Feasting on the Word, essay by Telford Work, Associate Professor of Theology, Westmount College, Santa Barbara, CA. 2009.

The Perfect Woman, or Something Else Proverbs 31:10-31 September 20, 2009

2009-09-19T18:48:00.001-04:00

A friend of mine is the living embodiment of superwoman. She cleans every room in the house a couple of times a week, has a huge vegetable garden, works in a nursing home, cooks fantastic meals every day, does handcrafts, and is the church secretary. If asked, I would bet she will say it is her Christian duty as a wife to do all those things - and the outside jobs are so she can enjoy her passion of cruising.

Well, I remember being like that - trying to keep up with four kids, clean the house from top to bottom, freeze and preserve veggies for the winter, make jam, do handcrafts - and hold down a job at the same time. That was what a good and capable wife did, right? The perfect woman. In fact, a lot of women of my generation and since - have bought into the notion that they have to do all those things to be a good wife. If they want to do something else, they would be criticised. In fact, statistics show that even today, in most households, women do the major share of the work as well as working outside the home.

James Hopkins writes: “In the church of my youth.....Proverbs 31:10-31 was the passage of choice on Mother’s Day. ‘A mother’s work is hard.’ we were told as our pastor interpreted the scripture. ‘Those of you who are godly mothers deserve our praise.’ ran the sermon. ‘Those of you who were raised, those of us who are being raised, by mothers who labor long and hard on our behalf need to thank God and thank those women.’ This was all fine and good. The problem was that the same church was against women in the pulpit, women in public places of power, women who rejected the traditional roles of wife and mother; they were subservient members of the community. Any mention of equal rights for women was put down. A message which has been taken from this passage is that for a woman to live up to God’s expectation of her, she has to be a ever-resting, always striving overachiever who always puts herself last.

This particular passage from Proverbs has been trotted out since time immemorial as an example of what a good wife should be. The problem is, when we try to read scripture through the lenses of our own era, the danger of misinterpreting is high. To read any scripture solely through the eyes of our own time is as much an error as it is to take scripture as literal.

Well, you all know I am not interested in interpreting the Bible literally - that’s a grave mistake and doesn’t help us to learn. And it’s too easy because it requires no real though.

So let’s take a slightly closer look. First, this is in fact a poem, something we would not know because we don’t read Hebrew. It is an acrostic poem arranged in alphabetical order; the first letter of each line is a letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Put together with earlier passages about wisdom, it becomes clear that this is more than a human woman. It is about Woman Wisdom - and the husband of the passage is a kind of stand-in for the followers. The poem portrays the benefits to anyone who chooses to become wise. The passage opens with the question “A strong woman, who can find?” As well as commenting on the warrior-like qualities of Wisdom, it notes that life with Wisdom begins with a search. Wisdom has to be sought out, is not easily acquired, but when attained is “more precious than jewels”. Life with Wisdom is a life of devotion and trust, and brings benefits to the household of Wisdom.

The poem moves back and forth between the life of a wife and mother and the personification of the virtues which display wisdom. So rather than being about a perfect woman and wife, it is about the personification of wisdom. It is about the universal values that sustain humanity. Integrity in personal relationships; opening our hands to the poor; doing what is there to be done, but doing it with a sense of humour; looking out for those around us.

Perhaps we can also take these qualities and use them as a tool for our own self -assessment - not in the sense of comparing ourselves to other individuals, or to other congregations, but just looking clearly at ourselves. Do we value trust and integrity, compassion and wisdom, gentleness and strength of character. In fact, this passage is about reverence for God, and how we live our lives in that reverence. It is about the wisdom that comes from understanding God, the awe of God.

Sources:
1. Rev. David Shearman, Owen Sound, ON.
2. Rev. James Hopkins, Lakeshore Avenue Baptist Church, Oakland CA.

Who Is Jesus for You? Mark 8:31-38 September 13, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church

2009-09-12T17:00:00.003-04:00

So here’s a little band of twelve marching along the dusty, hot and dry road to Jerusalem. Jesus is well out in front - as followers always walked behind their rabbis as a sign of respect. Suddenly Jesus turns around, and, walking backward says, "So who do you think I really am?”

Huh???

They look at each other, and give a kind of French shoulder shrug, as if to say “Beats me, who are you really?” We do know that some people had their suspicions about who Jesus was, including a few of the disciples - but Mark always wrote as if the disciples were not terribly with it...

"Well," says one, "there’s a theory going around that you must be John the Baptist! Can you believe it! They saw his head on a platter, a little over two months ago, but miraculously you’re somehow him.”

"I’ve been hearing rumours that you’re really Elijah”, says another, "zoomed in from heaven, to preach the way you do and perform the miracles you have." And pretty soon every one of the twelve jumps in with some kind of rumour about who Jesus might be.

Still walking backwards, and with a rather wicked smile tucked in one side of his mouth, Jesus asks “and who do *you* say I am?"

Large silence.

Very large and long silence.

Jesus walking backwards, looking at them, and the twelve walking along looking totally dumbfounded. Peter finally blurts it out. "You’re the Messiah."

Good old Peter. No hemming and hawing, no shuffling of feet or oblique references. Peter gets right to it; and seriously, that’s the answer everyone wants, isn’t it? That was really the answer all the disciples wanted. Today, that answer could land him a place on our national committees, get us to encourage him to go into ordained ministry. Jesus has asked, "Who do you say that I am?", and Peter, speaking as Everyone, says, "You are the Messiah." You’d expect Jesus to be pleased as punch.

But no - Jesus pitches a fit. From being a little mischievous with the guys, he is now downright angry and harsh. In this passage we get to eavesdrop on a knockdown, drag-out argument - the worst argument in Jesus’ ministry. His response is neither gentle, nor affirming, nor comforting. He rips Peter, and to the twelve says “Don’t you dare say that to anyone, hear me????? Don’t anyone call me that!!!!" Jesus uses the Greek word, *epitimao* - a command he used to silence demons and drive them away.

Wait a minute! Isn’t that the answer we would have given????

It’s interesting that in Matthew’s Gospel, Peter is commended by Jesus. But that’s Matthew - we’ve heard before that some of the people in Matthew’s local group thought John the Baptist was the Messiah, and Matthew wanted to prove that Jesus was; but this is Mark, and it’s important to reiterate that each Gospel was shaped to try to prove the author’s version of who Jesus was.

Well, on with the story. Jesus, now walking together with the twelve, starts to explain what is coming next. When they get to Jerusalem, he says, he will be hauled in, beaten, profiled, knocked around and eventually killed - but that he will be resurrected on the third day.

This time Peter pitches a fit. Swelled up, red faced and indignant, Peter lets fly with “Stop yapping New Age nonsense, and think about the rest of us.” Jesus, now even more riled up, comes nose to nose, toe to toe, and eyeball to eyeball with Peter, and yells “Get outta here, you Satan!!!!” - and then he whirls around again, and yells at the rest of the group “Anyone who comes with me has to carry your own cross just like me, and go wherever I go. Whoever just wants to save their own skin will lose it, but whoever gives their life for me and for the teaching will *have* life.”

Thomas Hall notes that Mark places this story right at the middle of the book; “the equivalent of placing ambulance and police sirens around it. Or grenades and mines. For the earliest Christians, this story was not just another episode in an otherwise routine day of travel.” There’s wisdom here to be heard. Perhaps Peter really did have the wrong answer, because perhaps he meant "the one who has come to meet our needs and to fix whatever needs fixing,"

So who do people say Jesus is? And who do YOU say Jesus is. Who is Jesus for YOU, today, right now - here in this congregation, in this church, in this world.

Is he only a kind of guru, a fully realized spiritual human being with lots of good teachings, but no interest in sickness, injustice, war, poverty, the environment, education or children; sitting way out of reach, offering wisdom to those who are enlightened enough to hear. Would we be able to understand, if we could get close enough, or would we still need everything explained to us?

Is Jesus your friend, a divine big brother, up in the sky somewhere? Is he your judge, counting out your sins and keeping a record? Is he sitting on the bench until things get tough and you call him to take over for you - a semi-divine coach in a game? Is he your vending machine – Zoltar the Fortune Teller out of the Tom Hanks movie “Big”, where the little boy puts his quarter in the fortune-teller machine, makes a wish to be big, and it comes true. Pay for a prayer from Jesus????

Who do you say Jesus is? For those who claim discipleship, it is the one question we are called to keep on answering throughout our lives. Non-Christians, watching us, cannot even tell that we are Christians. We don’t look like the people on TV, we’re unable to articulate our faith. We don’t shout and condemn and we don’t have powerful lobby groups. So non-Christians conclude that "all Christians" claim to believe one way, but don't even follow their own teaching.

I suspect that Jesus lost it with Peter, because there was a major miscommunication all along the way. We know that the Israelites were oppressed by the Romans, we know that the people were subject to unfair practices and discrimination by their own religious leaders. Peter, in saying “You are the Messiah” is really saying you’re the one who is going to make everything right for us, unite the Israelites to drive out the Romans, fix the church, get rid of the oppressive religious leaders.

Right answer, but dead wrong. Who do we say Jesus is? How do we say it? Who is Jesus for us? The one who makes everything right? What we say matters. What we don’t say also matters.

“Who do you SAY I am?” Jesus asks. Jesus is clear about who he is. He calls us to take up a cross, to risk our very life for those who need, right here in this neighbourhood. He is the bread of life, the living water, the one who will talk with those we like to ignore, who cares for those we consider the dregs of society. He is the one who asks everything from us, at the same time asking us to look deep into ourselves to see who we are, and make changes within as well as without. Who is Jesus, for you, today, now - and how do you make that known in the world?

Sources:
1. Rev. Christina Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, Illinois, from the sermon “What I Say”.
2. Rev. Thomas Hall, from the sermon “On the Way”.

Crossing Boundaries Mark 7:24-37 September 6, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church

2009-09-05T15:54:00.001-04:00

In the reading of this story, it is critical to remember that Jesus was born into a society heavily governed by religious rules, and we know he values its tradition and practices. We also know that he sees the leadership as corrupt, and ingrown. So he sets out initiate reform, in the tradition of the prophets like Jeremiah and Isaiah. He tries to help people remember what their faith and practices are to be. Against the misdirection and mismanagement of the community by the traditional leaders, he begins to gather and empower new ministers and leaders from among the overlooked lay folk. But it isn’t going quite the way he would like it to, and there is a lot of resistance.

So he takes a break. He is tired and probably rather discouraged, and goes to the region of Tyre, a bit of a retreat by the seashore, trying to escape notice and find some time for himself. He doesn’t want to be dealing with people. Yet even in a private home, he is found - by a Gentile woman who would be considered “unclean” by the Jewish community. She is a mother, with a sick child. She manages to get past all the disciples, and directly inside to Jesus. It is curious that apparently no one stops her. But all she does is ask Jesus for help.

In reading this text, we tend to miss, or overlook, or not even understand, the enormity both of what the woman does, and what Jesus does and says. She is a Syrophoenician, considered “unclean” by the Jews, who have strict laws about ritual purity. She is a foreigner, not of the same religious society or community. Above all, the sheer nerve of a woman, approaching him and asking for help. This may seem like nothing to us today - but in Jesus’ time this was jaw-dropping behaviour.

You can almost feel the indrawn breath of the people around, and see Jesus just sitting there with his mouth hanging open, trying to think of some response to get rid of her. When he finally does respond, it is a rude, and frankly racist remark. He says that it is not fair to feed the dogs before the children. On the surface, for us, it would seem like a pretty straightforward statement. That’s because we can’t read the original language. What Jesus really says is “My work and words are strictly for the children of Israel - of the one true God - not for Gentile dogs.” He tells her she is not worthy of the teachings he offers.

A Gentile woman, unclean according to Jewish law, unclean by her circumstance of birth, dares to approach Jesus. Surely she had to make her way through the disciples to do this. She knows that she is considered unclean. She is painfully aware of the meaning of the word ‘dogs’. Dirty mutts would be more like it. But she has a sick child, and still she cries out “Lord, help me, help my child. Have mercy!” She would go anywhere, cross any boundary, for the well being of her child - even into a place where she expects to be unwelcome.

It is almost possible to hear Jesus’ voice, see him turn to her and say those words. And from the woman,"But sir, even the meanest mutts under the table get to eat the children's crumbs." In other words, "I know I`m not much and am certainly not special nor deserving, but surely there must be a little bit - which is more than enough, for people even like me and my daughter." You can almost hear the penny drop, see Jesus’ eyes widen, his posture change as he realises that this outsider in so many ways has grasped something important, and has brought his attention to something important. There is a long moment of silence all around the room.

Feminist theologian Mary Ann Tolbert suggests that it is the shameful request of the woman (it should be coming from a male, not her), and the totally unconventional behaviour, which makes Jesus attempt to dismiss her with such disdain. Then Jesus is faced with the fact that a Gentile woman has just hammered home to him, albeit gently and with grace, the very point he had been trying to teach his own disciples - social conventions are meaningless when there are people in need.

One of the questions I want to ask all of you, each week in this year, is where do we locate ourselves in this story? Are we the leaders, Jesus, the disciples, the woman?

In a sense it’s hard for us to do this - after all, we were born here, are and have been members of the community. We are the church, we know the tradition and its practices. But no matter how good a community is, the original vision and sense of mission can be lost. It's possible for what used to be a joy and a source of grace to become a burden and a chore.

And that happens when we let entitlement rather than grace become our reason for being here. It happens when we speak of this place as "our church" more than we speak of it as "God's church." It happens when we forget that *we* are the mutts who receive crumbs dropped from the table.

We set our table in a place that makes it accessible to all. We tend to think of it as ours, not God’s. We put the pulpit above it, as though the minister is somehow that far above error and no longer needing to be submissive to a will and a word from beyond.

Let’s be blunt - we are as Gentile as that woman, part of that large foreign community that has no natural connection to the children of Abraham, and but is adopted by grace into God's family.
Parentage, history, longevity in the community, personality, personal charisma all mean very little in this regard. Far from being entitled, we are all here all the time only by the gracious invitation of God, through Jesus and the stirring of the Spirit within us.

Anna Murdock, a lay leader of Broad Street United Methodist Church in Statesville, North Carolina, tells this story of an experience she had:
‘It was almost a year ago; our Senior Pastor was on vacation. We would be having Communion on that particular Sunday, and the Associate Pastor had invited a seminary buddy to assist him with Communion. I noticed, after all had received Communion, that the visiting minister bent down on his way back to the pulpit and picked up a large crumb on the floor.

I didn't think anything about it. I just thought he might be a neat freak like the Associate Pastor! After the worship service, I witnessed the most beautiful moment. I saw our Associate Pastor's friend on his hands and knees near the altar rail, picking up crumbs that had dropped to the floor.

I told him that we would clean that up... he didn't have to do it. He smiled and said, "Even I have been made worthy to pick up the crumbs from under the table. This is part of my worship."

My response was, "and so have I been." And with a whispered "Thanks be to God", he invited me to pick up crumbs as well ... and to worship with him.’

Not through attendance, or long membership, or size of contribution, or history in the community - not by any of these things are we made worthy. It is in those words “Help me....” Everyone who comes through the door of the church, searching, is made welcome and worthy by the Spirit of God. Will they find here what they need?

Sources:
1. “Crumbs from the Table” by Rev. Brian Donst, Fifty United Church, Winona, Ontario
2. “Lord, Help Me. Crumbs Under the Table” by Anna Murdock, Broad Street UMC, Statesville, N Carolina
3. Feasting on the Word, Year B Volume 4.

“A Song of Love” Song of Solomon 2:8-13 (14-17) August 30, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church

2009-08-30T01:24:00.000-04:00

Listen! My lover! Look! Here he comes, leaping across the mountains, bounding over the hills. My lover is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice.

My lover spoke and said to me, "Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, and come with me. See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone. Flowers appear on the earth; the season of singing has come, the cooing of doves is heard in our land.

The fig tree forms its early fruit; the blossoming vines spread their fragrance. Arise, come, my darling; my beautiful one, come with me."

(Lover)
My dove in the clefts of the rock, in the hiding places on the mountainside, show me your face, let me hear your voice; for your voice is sweet, and your face is lovely. Catch for us the foxes, the little foxes that ruin the vineyards, our vineyards that are in bloom.

(Beloved) My lover is mine and I am his; he browses among the lilies. Until the day breaks and the shadows flee, turn, my lover, and be like a gazelle or like a young stag on the rugged hills.

In the year AD 90, the council of rabbis convenes at Jamnia. Jerusalem is in ruins, devastated around them, so the council has to meet in the little village of Jamnia, miles to the east of Jerusalem; Jews are no longer allowed even to go near the once-great city. The rabbis are convening to make decisions about which, of all the texts of their faith, will be included in the canon. They come to the Song of Songs. Discussion is heated, often loud and angry. The Song of Songs is pornography, it’s about sex, and even reading it might be considered breaking religious law. As well, nowhere is Yahweh mentioned, in the entire book. Never mind that Solomon was a great king, this is too much.

One rabbi leaps into the discussion, insisting that since there is no sacred history, no ethics or morals, the book should never be included, it is too dangerous. But a senior rabbi defends the book, for if it is about love, then it is about God. Surely the relationship between two lovers is something given by God.

Days and days of debate, many different texts examined, always the rabbis come back to this book. In the end, the Song of Solomon becomes part of holy Hebrew scripture.

In less than two hundred years after this council, Rabbi Akiba would say that "all the ages are not worth the day on which the Song of Songs was given to Israel." In the Christian church, Song of Solomon was at the top of the list for eight hundred years, and the subject of uncountable commentaries.

It is true that God's name is never mentioned; there are no sacred principles or history. So why is the Song of Songs included? Remember what it was like? Remember when you could pick out the voice of the one you loved, even in a room full of people? Remember when you heard that voice on the other end of the phone and your heart leapt? Remember lying awake at night wondering if you were imagining things, afraid you might be wrong? Remember sitting with daisies pulling out the petals “He loves me, he loves me not.”???

Listen to the text again, because it is two voices, the lover and the beloved.
(Read text)

I couldn’t help thinking of the song from “My Fair Lady” - the young man who suddenly finds himself smitten by Eliza. He sings “I have often walked down this street before, but the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before. All at once am I several stories high, knowing I’m on the street where you live.” Did you ever do that? Walk down the street where you knew the object of your affection lived, just in case you might catch a glimpse?

It has been suggested, in an effort to quash any suggestion of sex in the Bible, an effort to take the ‘raciness’ out of it, that this text is really a metaphor for the love of God for us. No, I think not. - and that does a disservice to the passage. It was put in for a reason.

In the United Church, the introduction to our wedding service says “This is a holy place; it is holy because love is here, and wherever love is, God is there also.” So the Song of Solomon, while it doesn’t mention God outright, is a love poem, an expression of profound sensuality and mutual love between two people, and where love is, God is there.

My colleague in Owen Sound, David Shearman says “the passage is an intimate conversation between two lovers, and it is as if we are eavesdropping on a passionate duet which warms not only the two participants in the conversation, but us, as well.”

Sometimes we forget that God has created us as people who seek and need love. The creation story of Adam and Eve in Eden is a story of human need for love. One of the driving forces in our lives is to find a person, that special person who will share our hopes, dreams and lives. We seek someone who will understand when we are down, when we fail, and will hold us in their arms when nothing else will give us comfort.

Rev. Isabelle Davis comments “The Church too often either fails to acknowledge this aspect of who we are, or makes us feel guilty about our sexuality, the place most people learn about love is in the media. We seek out music that tells of love, we watch movies that are love stories, we read books about love. And too often, it has been made into casual sexual encounters, or something to be taken lightly. Very seldom this gift of love, this passionate love, is seen as a gift from God.”
The Song of Solomon is love poetry, celebrating the relationship of lovers in creation, reminding us of God’s role in creating. The imagery of the garden recalls the creation of the garden of Eden; it recalls the creation of man, or “ish” and “‘ishsha”, woman - something which took place while the man was asleep. Together they reflect the image of God.

There is a very clear social commentary here. In a world in which sexuality is reduced to a lowest common denominator, where children are used and exploited, where women are treated as less than valuable - here is a song of praise to all of humanity.

This is the very basis and foundation of the human experience, and that’s why it is found in Scripture. German theologian Dorothee Solle suggests that the openness and intimacy of the relationship found in this passage is not just between two lovers, whether they are human or divine, but that it opens our hearts and minds to other people; the world. And in that world we find we have far more solidarity with each other than we could ever imagine. She says that in this song, “nature, animals, men and women, partake of the joy, the abundance, the fullness of life.” But it does not stop there - because as we learn to live in joy in our mutual love, that love spreads and ripples around us, so others become part of the joy of creation. Love is not diminished, but increased. Loving and being loved is a transformative experience that leads us into praise of the One who makes joy possible, and helps us to develop our capacities for love. May it be so.

Sources:
1. Sermon “The Duet”, by Rev. David Shearman, Owen Sound ON.
2. Sermon “An Old-Fashioned Love Song”, by Rev. Isabelle Davis
3. Sermon “The Invitation” by Rev. Thomas Hall.
4. Dorothee Solle “To Work and to Love: A Theology of Creation”, Philadelphia, Fortress Press, 1984, 150.

To Whom Can We Go? John 6:56-69 August 23, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church

2009-08-21T17:19:00.002-04:00

More than any other Gospel, John presents us with “hard sayings” of Jesus to wrap our heads around. Today’s reading is one of the hardest, for on first read it is offensive. It is not only somewhat offensive to us, it would have been really shocking to Jewish listeners. Even the image is disturbing - eating flesh and drinking blood; as a result, many preachers have turned this into yet another text about eucharist or communion, thereby making it palatable. Others have just not tried to preach it - because it is a really hard text.

In the time of Jesus, it was pagans who ate flesh with the blood still in it. Hence Jewish hearers would have been shocked to hear Jesus even utter these words. The church in Corinth got itself into all kinds of knots over whether or not to eat meat which had been killed in a pagan temple. The suggestion of eating flesh with the blood still in it would have been repugnant to the Jews altogether. How could Jesus suggest such a thing?

Theologian Reinhold Niebuhr places this text at a period of Jesus’ ministry usually designated as “the crisis”. Jesus had been popular. The multitude had followed him to listen, to catch the charm of his personality and to be cured of physical ills. “But gradually”, says Niebuhr, “as Jesus unfolded the full meaning of his way of life, the multitude found his ideals as difficult as they were engaging and began to desert him, muttering, "These are hard sayings, who can hear them?" Only the twelve disciples stayed, in the end, along with some of the women and others, although John specifically names the twelve. Jesus asked, did they also wish to leave him? Peter, always the spokesman for the rest, answers “Where shall we go?” Niebuhr interpets this to mean that Peter is saying, "Yes, what you ask of us is so difficult that we are tempted to give up too. We don’t know if we can follow your way and truth, but we can’t find a better alternative.”

Is Jesus offering immortality in this quote? We have tended to take the phrase “eternal life” to mean immortality. I don’t think that is at all what is inherent here. This is another example of Jesus trying to communicate a difficult concept using ordinary things of life- bread, wine, meat, water - to teach about a way of living which saves us from being ruled by fear. Jesus reminds them that it is the spirit which gives life, and that his words are both spirit and life. Yet they choose to turn away because it is “too hard”.

The crowds had got used to the comfort of being around Jesus, and were prepared to take some small challenge to their discipleship. There was comfort in the affirmations of Jesus’ faith, and they were to some extent willing to accept them; but Niebuhr comments that “inextricably intertwined with that assurance is a moral challenge” which most people find too difficult to consider. He says that the Christian church, at its best, is a community of the few who have seen, however dimly, “that the assurance and the challenge belong together”. The teaching of Jesus presents both a way of looking at reality, and a way of living.

In the past weeks, as President Barack Obama has begun to lay out the foundations of a health-care plan, arguments for and against have been all over the news. People have considered resorting to violence, extreme responses to the proposal - accusing Obama of being Hitler - have appeared, along with accusations of fascism and socialist medicine, as if somehow socialist is a bad thing. An American colleague of mine noted “how easily scaremongering can prod Americans to act against their own best interests.” I’ve found the comments of people fascinating - people who claim America is a country founded on Christian principles, yet who scream at the notion of paying for someone else’s health care as un-constitutional, too difficult, if people want good health care they are “free to pursue it”, but others should not have to shoulder it for them.

Rev. Amy C. Howe says this: “Our culture tells us we are in control of our lives, our destiny. If we work hard, we will be rewarded with material gain.” She goes on “My theologian sister says that we prefer religion to God. We, like the disciples, are offended by Jesus’ offer of spirit and life. We make religion about the rules because we can control the rules.”

Well, the words Jesus uses “abide in me” present comfort, but they also present challenge. A handful of followers remains, and when Jesus asks if they also want to run away, Peter responds “Where else can we go? You have words of life. We have come to believe.” In that moment, Peter who is generally a little thick, realises that despite the hard path Jesus calls the followers to walk, he is ready to give up some control in order to accept the offer of the gift of life.

The gift of life for the church is the moment we realise that giving up control gives life. It may not be the life we envision out of our own experience, or how we have always done things in our church. It may be that the creative spirit moves into that space created by our willingness to let go control, and does something completely unexpected. The decision of the followers not to walk away but to follow and give up control marks them as a community of faith. Nothing else - not budgets, mission statements, worship attendance - mark us as a community of faith. Coming together to follow Jesus, no matter how hard it is, no matter how contrary to our political notions - that marks us as a community of faith - and in Jesus we receive spirit and life. May it be so.

Sources:
1. Reinhold Niebuhr, “To Whom Can I go?” in The Christian Century, March 10, 1927.

2. Rev. Amy C. Howe, essay in “Feasting on the Word: Preaching the Revised Common Lectionary” Year B Volume 3.

Wisdom Calls Proverbs 9:1-6, Ephesians 5:15-20 August 16, 2009

2009-08-15T23:16:00.003-04:00

“Wisdom has built her house, she has cut the seven pillars. She has slaughtered the animals, she has mixed the wine, she has also set her table. She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places around the town “You that are poor, come in here! To those with no sense she says “Come, eat my bread, drink my wine. Lay aside immaturity, and live and walk in the way of insight.”

Since Proverbs wasn’t listed in the bulletin as one of today’s readings, you probably wonder why I decided to throw this in. Hmmm, well - Ephesians talks about living wisely - but in a boring and constrained sort of way. The Ephesians passage, on the surface, probably has been one of those used to convince Christians that anything which smacked of having fun was a no-no. The John passage is another of Jesus’ references to the bread of life, and it’s the third or fourth this month. Proverbs doesn’t usually get preached - but in fact, it reminded me of the parable of the banquet in the Gospels.

Back in the fall, Norio and I received a call, late on a Saturday afternoon, from friends in the west end. Would we like to come and join them in the local street festival, and then go for some dinner? It meant putting aside everything, leaving a sermon half-finished, in order to join them. It would have been easy to say no, I have too much to do, Saturday nights aren’t good. That’s what I usually say to invitations for Saturdays. But we hadn’t seen our friends for a long time, and the evening sounded like it would be fun. So we went. All the way there, I kept wondering if it would have been better to refuse, to spend more time on the sermon, to beg off. Was it a wise thing to do? I don't know - but had I not gone it would have been a missed opportunity for something important.

The Book of Proverbs is a collection of sayings, speeches, lectures which were accumulated over time. They were shaped by the wise leaders in the court, and the temple of Israel an early Judaism. Wisdom is personified as a woman, the spirit which was beside God at the beginning of creation, the feminine principle, the breath of God.

In the time of Jesus, there was a group of religious ascetics called Gnostics. In general to be a gnostic means to make a claim to an esoteric knowledge that no-one else has. If you wander into Chapters, you can find a self-help book purporting to be knowledge no one else has. It is a kind of modern-day gnosticism, in that each of the self-help gurus purports to have a knowledge no one else has. To the ancient Gnostics, wisdom was something they had access to because of their esoteric knowledge. Ordinary people didn’t.

In this selection from Proverbs, Wisdom prepares a banquet and goes into the town calling to the poor and the simple to come to the table. I think this is the important part, and draws the parallel to the Gospel. Virtually everything Jesus taught had its roots in Hebrew scripture, and he would likely have been familiar with this passage, so to tell the banquet story would draw on this scripture. In fact it is totally contrary to both the Gnostic understanding of wisdom, and the temple understanding. The passage from Proverbs is telling us that wisdom is a free and fabulous banquet, equally generous to all. The table is set, and the banquet is there.

The Proverbs text gives us a great feast set in the house of Wisdom. The slaughtering of animals for the feast is directly connected to the traditions of Israel. Wine is “mixed”, perhaps a product of different fruits, maybe the fruits of the spirit. Everyone is invited to come. Wisdom offers a pattern for living.

There is a pretty clear message in this passage. Each of us is given the opportunity to live a blessed and fulfilled life. It says that it is God’s intent for the human race. Here, in this passage, Lady Wisdom offers wine and a banquet for enjoying. It is reminiscent of the story of the wedding at Cana, when Jesus’ mother is portrayed as a wise woman - in some ways wiser than Jesus.

There is another message in this passage. Too often we do make excuses for not participating in the banquet. For the gathered church community, it says to us that we have to ask if we live out a mature faith, if we are answering the call fully, what kind of future do we envision and what choices will we make. As we come to the end of summer, it is a kind of fallow period where we can do some reflection and assessment, as individuals and as congregations. Miriam Therese Winter wrote a song “I Cannot Come”. It refers to the wedding banquet story, but I think it fits here too.

I CANNOT COME.

A certain man held a feast on his fine estate in town,
he laid a festive table and wore a wedding gown.
He sent invitations to his neighbours far and wide.
But when the meal was ready, each of them replied:

I cannot come, I cannot come to the banquet, don't trouble me now
I have married a wife, I have bought me a cow,
I have fields and commitments that cost a pretty sum
Pray, hold me excused, I cannot come!

So, my question to you today is, what are we going to do as we go forward into the next church year?

Sources:
1. Material from essays by Thomas R. Steagald, and Susan Vande Kappelle in the book “Feasting on the Word”, Year B Volume 3. Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds.

2. The Wedding Banquet, by Miriam Therese Winter. In the collection “Joy is Like the Rain”. C. Medical Mission Sisters 1966.

Bread and Water August 2, 2009 Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15, John 6:24-35

2009-08-01T14:29:00.001-04:00

Let me introduce you to Louise and Phil Decker. Louise and Phil are the caretakers of the Gros Morne National Park campgrounds in Newfoundland. Every morning, Louise is up at 6, and goes to every campground and rest area to clean the washrooms. Phil goes around and empties all the garbage cans. Then they both sit down and sort the garbage, taking out things people toss like batteries, and separating out the recycling. Phil is a retired fisherman, who still goes back to sea on a seasonal basis, and brings in enough for them to eat over the winter. Louise, of her own volition, has begun teaching a course to children in the campgrounds, about the native plants and animals of Newfoundland, the lives of those who fish for a living, and teaches the kids how to make certain kinds of local food. In the early spring, Louise cleans every camp site, making sure the fire pits are cleared, cutting the weeds down, sanding and painting the picnic tables. The day we sat with them, Louise had just finished a class with 39 kids. They own a tiny house, really a hut, on the property at Broom Point. Parks Canada wants to make the whole point a historical site, so they offered to buy Louise and Phil’s property, for $3000 - and told them they could move the house off if they wished.

Let me tell you a little about the house. Like many people, this house has been in the family for several generations. It was not originally a year-round living accommodation, but was there for families to live in during the fishing season. Fishing families would come to the point every year, when their fishing permits allowed, in order to work. They processed, dried, and canned the fish right on the premises. The salt fish, and the canned salmon, was picked up by larger boats which took it to market. This year, Phil and Louise made 50c a pound on their lobster catch. Next time you buy lobster in the supermarket, look at the price.

Norio and I sat with them in our campsite this July, over a glass of wine, and talked about life in Newfoundland. Needless to say we were impressed with the passion and the optimism of these two people.

Louise is a tiny woman, but don’t be fooled. She is a formidable presence, and passionate about her life. Get her talking about how the Canadian government is killing off the fisheries - and the lives of many people - by selling out to large corporations. Louise is smart, savvy, and hard-working. So is Phil. They love life, and despite their criticisms of the way things are done, and what is done to them, they have a solid faith that what they DO have is given to them, by God, to use well. They don’t have much, but if you asked them I am guessing they would say they have enough.

I am telling this story because Louise and Phil epitomise for me what it means to be on a life journey. There have been times when these two were in a wilderness. Yet they survived, and grew, even if all they had was bread and water.

In todays first reading, we meet the Israelites, newly freed, and looking forward to going to the land they have been promised. In the first throes of real freedom, they were happy to be anywhere but Egypt, and they sang and danced their joy! Then, of course, as the days went on reality set in. The small stocks of food they had brought along were gone, and there was little if anything to eat in the wilderness. There was no wildlife, no large body of water, no edible plant life. The people became hungry and thirsty; the manna they were receiving didn’t last long, and water from a rock was hardly sufficient. Bread, and water: that was their diet in the wilderness. It began to feel like they were in prison again.

Eventually, of course, they complained about what God had provided, and complained against
Moses. They wanted to go back to Egypt, where they were slaves but had good food. God set them free from one kind of oppression just to kill them off in the desert? If they were going to die anyway, better to do it back in Egypt where at least they could do it in relative comfort. They wanted more: more food, more water, more variety in their diet. More.

They sound like us, don’t they? Like those ancient Israelites, we want /more. /We want more variety, more choices. So we can now order our fish deep-fried, broiled, baked, grilled, or blackened. We want to be able to eat all kinds of foods whenever we want it.

Norio and I have an ongoing discussion - I won’t call it argument - about food when he is in Cuba. After five weeks, he doesn’t want to eat rice and peas any more. He can’t find Japanese noodles. There is some variety in the food but not what he gets here in Toronto, where we can eat anything we want any time. My comment is that the Cubans have to eat that every day.

And that is where Louise and Phil come in. They don’t have the luxury of Japanese or Chinese or Korean or Thai or Greek or Italian, or whatever. Their diet is mainly fish; given all the wild berries we picked around the island, and the people we met picking them, that probably they get a lot of their fruit that way. And yet they are satisfied, and they are happy people.

John’s Gospel this week begins with the story of the feeding of a large crowd of people with five loaves of barley bread and two fish. The crowd is dazzled! They want him Jesus to feed them anytime, anywhere, as much as they want. But Jesus eludes them, refusing to be known simply as the one who gives them all they want on demand.

Yes, I can offer you bread, he says, but what you are looking for is bread and water to satisfy your soul as well as your body. God gives true bread, the bread of life. In me you see God, and you see the bread and water which will satisfy.

It’s no accident that bread and grains are at the top of the food pyramid; they provide
great nourishment. Bread of the right kind can be packed and carried on long treks. We need bread, and we need water, to be well and healthy.

We are invited in these stories to trust in the God who feeds us what we need to live, and calls us to gratitude for life. When we eat the bread of life, when we drink the living water God offers, we can thrive, and be satisfied. That’s why Louise and Phil impressed me so much. From our point of view, they probably have nothing. Life is a struggle, every single day, to make enough to live on. And yet, they are satisfied, and they have enough. Bread, water, and fish - the three things Jesus used to demonstrate what really matters in life. May it be so.

Acknowledgements:
1. Louise and Phil Decker, Gros Morne National Park
2. Material from the sermon “Thriving on Bread and Water” by Randy Thompson.

Waking a Sleeping Jesus Mark 4:35-41

2009-06-20T17:11:00.002-04:00

The legend lives on from the Chippewa down,
of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee."
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty,
that good ship and true was a bone to be chewed when the "Gales of November" came early.

Does any one know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
if they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
they may have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
of the wives and the sons and the daughters.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
in the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
the islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
with the Gales of November remembered.

Some of the words of Gordon Lightfoot’s famous song, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”. (1) In November 1975 the ore carrier Edmund Fitzgerald sank during a gale on Lake Superior, with all 29 crew on board. There were no clues to why the ship sank, and no distress calls recorded. It was the worst loss in Great Lakes shipping history.

Lake Erie is the shallowest of the Great Lakes, at a depth of just 200 feet. It is easily stirred up by west winds to produce violent waves and even the largest boats are put at risk.

“Ships caught on the Great Lakes during such fierce storms can be tossed like toys in the fury of wind and wave. As early as 1835, a November storm "swept the lakes clear of sail." In 1847, a major storm claimed 77 ships on the Great Lakes. Ten years later, 65 vessels went down as a storm crossed the Lakes. A gale on Lake Superior in 1905 wrecked 111 ships and sent 14 steel carriers ashore. In 1958 and 1975, powerful storms also caused shipwrecks and damage over the Great Lakes.” (2)

Jesus' disciples were not ocean-faring sailors, not even sailors on the Great Lakes, but they were experienced fishermen. They had been through storms before. But the story in Mark says “ A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped.” Luke describes the wind and raging waves during this storm. Matthew calls it a furious storm without warning. Perhaps this was something they had never seen before.

I did a little reading on storms on the Sea of Galilee, which is really a lake. The storms are a result of different temperatures between the seacoast and the mountains. The Sea of Galilee lies 680 feet below sea level. It is bounded by hills, especially on the east side where they reach 2000 feet high. These heights are a source of cool, dry air. In contrast, directly around the sea, the climate is semi-tropical with warm, moist air. The large difference in height between surrounding land and the sea causes large temperature and pressure changes. This results in strong winds dropping to the sea, funnelling through the hills. The Sea of Galilee is small, and these winds may descend directly to the center of the lake with violent results. When the contrasting air masses meet, a storm can arise quickly and without warning. Small boats caught out on the sea are in immediate danger. The Sea of Galilee is relatively shallow, just 200 feet at its greatest depth. A shallow lake is “whipped up” by wind more rapidly than deep water, where energy is more readily absorbed. (3)

So there they are, out on the Sea of Galilee, in a boat, at night. Now, this isn’t strange at all. There are other incidents where we are told they are fishing at night. In Japan, and probably elsewhere, the squid boats go out at night and long after dark there are little lights bobbing up and down on the water. Mark’s narrative also tells us there are other boats with them. Jesus has asked them to go right across the lake to the other side. As they sail, he is snoozing gently in the hold when the storm comes up. He seems to be completely oblivious to the raging wind and waves, and the fear around him. When they finally waken him, he is cranky with them. He asks if they have no faith.

Well, what would be your reaction? Wouldn’t you be flashing around bailing like crazy, trying to get the sails in, if they were up? If a wave is taller than a boat is long, the boat is going to go down. Maybe they were not of such "little faith" as all that. Maybe they were frantically using all their skills and couldn't believe that Jesus didn't wake up, and maybe they thought if he was sleeping through it, he was going to let the storm overtake them and swamp the boat. Maybe they thought he should get off his holy backside, and row. Maybe they were no more afraid than they ever were at such moments - maybe it was an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, and they expected Jesus to pitch in, not nap while they were doing everything. As for the other boats, presumably they were also dealing with the storm -- so if they had sunk, there would not be much help for a rescue there.

Gordon Lightfoot’s song says “Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours?” I wonder. In the storm they experienced, the minutes became hours. Jesus had asked them to go all the way to the other side, something they normally didn’t do. There they were in the middle of something bigger than their experience, and Jesus appeared to be asleep.

Is this a story of trusting Jesus in the usual storms of our personal lives, or is Mark here talking about storms that are particular to those who follow Jesus on a journey to an unknown place -- struggling against injustice, confronting evil, crossing boundaries and borders to seek healing, reaching out to the rejected of society, embarking on new ways of being in a confusing world where nothing is the way it was?

Rev. Jane Baker says “My congregation is in the midst of changes within itself, within the community, and our annual conference. Our responses to these changes we face as a result of the Spirit's leading is how we respond to the chaos and storms change always brings about. Not only that, it is a story about how we trust the Spirit's leading.”

I think this passage has long been used for personal reasons, not that there is anything wrong with this, but the interpretation doesn't get to the idea of the church itself and what may occur as we follow Jesus. I do see it about the church and its faith and trust, with Jesus in the boat with us.

“Does anyone know where the love of God goes.....?” In the real seafaring world, even when the ship goes down with all hands, God’s love is there - weeping into the storm. In the parable storms, which are meant to teach us about living in an emergent church - which are meant to teach us about sailing through unknown experiences - the love of God is there. With trust that God is there with us, and that with that presence we too have the power to still the waves and the winds, and get to the other side.

The great American preacher, Harry Emerson Fosdick, was a Baptist minister who went on to the inter-denominational Riverside Cathedral in New York. Here is a quote of his, "Fear and Faith"

Fear imprisons, faith liberates;
Fear paralyzes, faith empowers;
Fear disheartens, faith encourages;
Fear sickens, faith heals;
Fear makes useless, faith makes serviceable;
And, most of all, fear puts hopelessness at the heart of all,
While faith rejoices in its God." (4)

1. “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”, Gordon Lightfoot, 1975.

2. http://www.islandnet.com/~see/weather/almanac/arc_1998/98nov01.htm

3. Dr. Donald B. DeYoung of Creation Research Society. Copyright © 1992, 2003, Donald B. DeYoung, in “Weather & the Bible”, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1992).

4. http://www.famousquotesandauthors.com/topics/faith_and_fear_quotes.html

5. Input and ideas from many friends on the Midrash list - Rev. Brian Donst, Rev. Christina Berry, Rev. Jane Baker.

Planting Seeds Mark 4:1-9 June 14, 2009

2009-06-13T21:09:00.000-04:00

Once again Jesus began teaching by the lakeshore. A very large crowd soon gathered around him, so he got into a boat. Then he sat in the boat while all the people remained on the shore. He taught them by telling many stories in the form of parables, such as this one:

“Listen! A farmer went out to plant some seed. As he scattered it across his field, some of the seed fell on a footpath, and the birds came and ate it. Other seed fell on shallow soil with underlying rock. The seed sprouted quickly because the soil was shallow. But the plant soon wilted under the hot sun, and since it didn’t have deep roots, it died. Other seed fell among thorns that grew up and choked out the tender plants so they produced no grain. Still other seeds fell on fertile soil, and they sprouted, grew, and produced a crop that was thirty, sixty, and even a hundred times as much as had been planted!” Then he said, “Anyone with ears to hear should listen and understand.”

Facebook - the new Internet location for sharing photos, talking, whatever - with friends and family - and whoever else you want. Before you laugh, some serious people have a page on Facebook. Diana Butler Bass has a page on Facebook. Justin Trudeau has a page. Medecins Sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders), Cancer Foundations, Habitat, Peace Preschool in Israel all have pages. Some of your local MPs have a page, some people right here have - and yes I do too - so do most of my ministry colleagues, many friends, people I’ve met in many places - cruises, conferences both religious and academic.

Farm Town is an interactive game on Facebook. It’s kind of a virtual farm where you plough the ground, plant seeds, and wait for them to grow. When they are ready to be harvested, you can either do that yourself, or get someone else to do it for you. If you get someone else, both people make more coins and benefit..

One of the things you can do is connect with other people who become your neighbours. You can then visit their farm to weed and tend, and as you help other neighbours, you get more points and advance in the game.

Yes, I play Farm Town. But as I’ve been playing, I’ve noticed a few things. The “farm” is whatever we make of it - and as you visit other farms, you get a great sense of the imagination - as well as the personality - of the owner. It is a co-operative game; yes, you can advance in the game without relying on anyone else; but when you cooperate with others, both people advance faster. There are protocols for playing, and rudeness is largely not tolerated. Every person has a story. It is a creative imagination game - and even the simple act of ploughing, planting, and then waiting for those little seeds to come up - is quite relaxing and soothing.

We have a saying in the church that all the world is God’s farm. And I think that is what sticks with me. There is a little key on the game that you can zoom out, so you can see the whole of the farm - and all around you are your neighbours. In a sense, you can look at the whole of creation as a big picture, with people from everywhere - a kind of global village on the internet. And what is fascinating is that even as you sleep - just as in a real farm - those little crops keep coming up and maturing - and for those of us who don’t write computer languages, it’s a mystery how it all happens.

Well, I don’t just go in and go out. I like to “talk” to the people there. Let me tell you about a young woman living in Abu Dhabi where her husband works; a young man in Yorkshire who has a pet snake; a nurse in Norway on the night shift, on her break: a wonderful woman from Hawaii, with whom I had a long conversation one night, about the lives of indigenous peoples and the damage done to creation.

I chose to use the parable of planting seeds today, to move us to our discussion of our ministries and life in Glen Ayr. Parables were teaching tools, a way of making a point in story form. Jesus taught almost always in parables - so here he tells them about a farmer who goes out plant, and scatters the seed. Then he goes on to tell them about different kinds of soil, how the seed grows depending on where it lands, and if it’s productive or not. Some of the seed fell on poor soil some fell on rocky ground, and some fell into good soil.

A congregation is a little like a farm - the word is scattered to us like seed - and depending on where it falls, it takes root and begins the metamorphosis. Ploughing, planting and growing are critical to the life of the farm. You don’t come here, and suddenly get it all. Faith is not something which happens once, and never has to be cultivated again. Jesus addresses that directly - some of the seed gets wasted, but some does take hold and grow.

Rev. Christina Berry says “Here’s the thing. The church can’t save itself up for its retirement. The resources we have weren’t given to us so we could quit growing and working. The realm of God is about a new creation, sweeping away old ideas, and putting in their place another way of being.”

Following Jesus means expecting new and amazing things to develop from tiny inauspicious beginnings - like an apple seed. Believing in this means that God plants little seeds, and while we are not looking the whole thing changes. In another way of saying the seed fell on different kinds of soil, the writer reports that as Jesus taught “He spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it.” This is Jesus, grinning from ear to ear and jabbing us in the ribs with his elbow, and telling us to hang on for dear life, because life is about to take us places....”

One of the things I love about my little farm, like my garden, is that it’s never finished. It’s a work in progress all the time. The realm of God, I believe, is like that. It is a work in progress. We don’t know where we are going to be taken, but we know that standing still isn’t an option. The One who plants us, who calls us to grow, who harvests and calls others to share in the harvest, has some big plans. Thanks be to God.

1. Rev. Christina Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, Illinois - from the sermon “Hold the Mustard”..

A Different Message 1 John 4:7-21 Fifth Sunday of Easter

2009-05-09T21:42:00.000-04:00

On Friday night I was having a conversation with my son about God, faith, religion and - in his mind - the damage religion does when it is not carefully thought out. He was relating that a colleague of his at work has recently become involved in a church, and it is beginning to consume his life. He tends to repeat whatever he is told without thinking. So this colleague pronounced that if people don’t love God, they can’t love others either.

It was interesting that we were having this particular conversation, because I had already decided to preach on the text of John - whoever loves comes from God. This is precisely the opposite of what my son’s colleague was saying. We don’t have to love God first, and then find the capability to love others. It is the other way around - humans are born to love, and the love we are capable of having for others connects us to God.

So it raises for me the question of what constitutes “right belief”. Is it a so-called orthodox belief that only Christians are selected by God, and can have a relationship with God. Is God so limited? What, and who, defines our relationship to God? Us?

Is baptism evidence of “right belief”? We bring children for baptism, make promises on their behalf. Does that mean they have “right belief” just because of that action? We confirm our children when they are teens, and they are considered members of the church. Is that all ‘right belief’ takes? Or do those young people then continue to learn and discover what love in faith means?

Is prayer “right belief”? What kind of prayer? Is prayer alone the most important thing? Does God ignore us if we don’t pray a certain way? Does God do what we ask and turn others down?

What about social justice and outreach? Is that “right belief”? Shelters, warm meals, Habitat for Humanity builds, compassion. Are those the only evidence of “right belief”? John’s Gospel talks about Jesus being the vine, and us the branches. Jesus was love, Jesus is love. So if that is the case, then we also are born to love - and out of that love surely comes a mission. A church with no sense of mission has cut itself off from the Vine. Without connection to the Vine, mission in the church is just mission by any other social agency.

What about the ‘born again’ experience? Is that the earmark of “right belief”? We know that deeply moving experiences can change lives. Is that all? One moving experience which connects us to God, and suddenly we have “right belief”? What does it mean to be “born again”? Who defines what “born again” is?

I suggest that beyond baptism, beyond orthodox or unorthodox faith stances, beyond prayer, beyond social justice and outreach, there are the two statements from John which put all of those things into a different perspective.

First, we have this statement: “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.”

....and this statement: “For God is love.....if we love one another, God lives in us, God’s love is perfected in us.”

Love. It is the single most important thing in the Christian faith. Prayer, baptism, outreach, life in community - these are all important things. But I would go so far as to say that the most important is love.

Agape, or love within a community, is the single piece, the one criterion that gives meaning to everything else we say or do. We might be able to recite the creeds, and the Lord’s Prayer, but if we do not have love, we are what Paul says is a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. We may have experiences that take us into God’s holy presence, but without love it does us no good. And though we feed the hungry and rescue those who are perishing but have no love, we are nothing. We might think baptism is all it takes - but unless a child learns to love throughout life - it is a meaningless ritual.

To have love - agape - is to have God living within us; everyone who loves has God within them.
But this one simple statement takes us well beyond the Christian context, and into a world-wide context. “Everyone who loves is born of God and knows God; if we love one another, God lives in us.” It means that God lives within human beings regardless of whether or not they are baptised, or whether or not they pray, or even whether or not they claim they are Christian. God is love. God cannot be contained by one faith, or one way of looking at faith. God lives because we love.

The Cup of My Life Fourth Sunday of Easter Psalm 23, John 10:11-18

2009-05-02T16:45:00.002-04:00

In the last couple of weeks we’ve had a scare about swine flu. The Centres for Disease Control were on the verge of leaping right past epidemic warnings, to a full pandemic warning. Here, however, is a sobering thought. Last year 36,000 people in North America alone died of regular influenza. In 2006, there were 247 million cases of malaria, and 881,000 deaths in 2008.

Second. I was sent a video, by two different people, of a Chinese woman who has no arms. She lives alone, and supports herself. She can comb her hair, wash herself, cook and clean, and completely looks after herself. The video shows her overturning rocks with her feet, to take out crabs for sale.

These two things took me to the 23rd Psalm - one of the rocks in our statements of faith, along with the Lord’s Prayer - and one of those things we can recite practically off by heart, want at every memorial service, and don’t think about its meaning a lot. Especially the line “My cup runs over.....”.

There is an odd thing about this Psalm - Palestine has not been known for its succulent, lush grasslands; in its place are thousands of square miles of parched ground, desiccated vegetation and desolate desert floor. How could the writer--probably a Bedouin shepherd himself--describe wasteland as "green"? In fact, some shepherds took the time to create "green” pastures; got rid of the rocks, irrigated it, planted legumes and vegetations that had deep tap roots; the green pastures would be scattered throughout the vast territory of the desert and the shepherds would guide their flocks throughout the long arid months from one oasis to the next.

For those of the Jewish faith, this Psalm is part of the Sabbath rituals, recited at the Sabbath meal. It is part of the Jewish funeral service. I can’t imagine there are many here today who have not heard it recited at a funeral or memorial.

I think we need to pay attention to it because its message reaches deep into the places where people live. In the end, the psalm is about finding comfort in times of desperation and despair ...and who has not visited those wastelands? Yet it is also a Psalm of hope in the face of great trial and despair - a Psalm which speaks of living waters and green fields, a place where the cups of our lives run over with everything good.

There is a story about Psalm 23. This psalm is attributed to David, before he became king. David had become a hero after killing Goliath. Though he remained loyal to King Saul, Saul grew jealous, and saw David as a threat. Several times Saul sent David to war, in order to ensure his death. When that didn’t work, Saul got more heavy-handed, with the result that David was forced to run into the wilderness. Supposedly, during this time David composed this Psalm. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

“God is my shepherd.” This statement is, in Scripture, the first linking of the divine as the shepherd; John expanded on the idea in the Gospel, naming Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Now, if we say the word ‘shepherd’, what image comes to mind? I bet the one we all think of is the handsome strapping fellow with a lamb draped around his neck and looking dewy-eyed at baby Jesus

Is that what it is? The sheep is owned and lives or dies at the whim of the shepherd. Any measure of protection given to the sheep is what a good person gives his property. He can use the rod and staff to keep predators away, but also to herd the sheep, and not necessarily gently. Sheep are not recognised for their intelligence or gentle nature, but for wool and food. They aren’t necessarily beloved pets.
.
So in some ways the psalm could be seen as surrendering to someone who owns you and having faith that you will be treated well. In this case, for David, the shepherd does. So we have a beautiful poem about an exhausted and disheartened being finding peace through surrender to God. I certainly know that place, that place of fear and deep anxiety. For that is the meaning here - not literally death, but those times in our lives when we are so far down, we are in the valley of the shadow of death.

You know the saying “There are no atheists in a foxhole”. No atheist in the trenches? No atheist on an airplane about to crash? Rev. Brian Kiely, at the Unitarian Church of Edmonton, writes “For many years, flying would always bring out all my near-death fears. I’d look around at my fellow passengers and wonder if I should get to know them just in case we found ourselves on the brink of death. I’d grip the arms of my seat so tightly during take-off and landing that my knuckles would turn white.

Years ago, on a particularly bumpy flight, (you know, one of those flights when the plane keeps dropping thousands of feet unexpectedly) I found myself sitting next to a crying child. I could barely keep myself from shaking apart. So, I began to sing the one prayer I knew: Spirit of Life come unto me. Spirit of Life, the hymn I’d been singing with Unitarian Universalist congregations for years. Magically, we both calmed. I imagined the Spirit of Life, the Divine Mystery, present with us, and the spirit of my whole religious community singing in unison, holding us close as we bumped through the skies.”

Kiely uses the example of the great Bobby McFerrin, who created a choral setting of the Psalm, substituting She for He.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
She makes me lay down in green pastures; she leads me beside still waters;
she restores my soul…

He says “For me, the word She was a gateway—somehow it opened the psalm’s power for me. How do I explain it? It is absolutely true that I was unsure as any Unitarian Universalist seeker about my own theology, that I did not start praying to God until I found myself in a foxhole, on a flight. I was one big chicken, sure that I was about to die– no matter what anyone may have told me about the statistical unlikelihood. And I prayed really, really hard. I found that I wasn’t praying to be saved in the event of a disaster. I was praying in gratitude for the life I had lived thus far, for all the small, beautiful moments. I was praying that all those I loved would be blessed. I was praying that the world would be blessed.”

“The great American preacher Howard Thurman once described prayer as an inward journey across an interior sea to an island. In the center of the island stands a temple and inside the temple burns a flame. That’s where prayers go. That idea has always moved me. If my prayers go anywhere, they go into me and towards whatever spark of the divine lies within. My prayers call on my inner reserves and whatever capacity I have to summon the peace and confidence that calms my fears in times of stress and anxiety.

And that is the place I come to in the midst of the angst of the last few weeks, the over-reactions and fanning of the flames of fear, trying to convince us we are coming to the valley of the shadow. These are our enemies - the times we fear, the times we despair, the times when we get bogged down in what is wrong with our lives.

In the past few weeks since Easter - with the economy going down, the busy-ness of extra services and extra meetings, hard decisions to make, seeing things come apart no matter how hard we try, it is easy to fall into a kind of dis-ease and despair. For clergy, every year just after Easter, we tend to go under spiritually and psychologically. The longer we are in ministry, the longer it takes to come out of that place. Add into that all the things we read - pirates hijacking ships, a new version of an old flu, shaky economy, loss - it is easy to forget why we come here, why we claim we have faith.

And I come back to that incredible Chinese woman, who could have simply given up on life, who could have despaired. Yet it is obvious from the video that this woman has a life, and a full one at that. Yes, it's a hard life. Yet no harder than life for people with two arms and hands - and it's clear that her attitude is that life is good.

I discovered another version of this Psalm, partly written by a secular humanist.

God is my guide. I am not denied the sustaining power of life.
The green earth provides nourishment, the cool still pools of water refresh my spirit.
A deep intuition leads me along a path that is true, for the sake of existence itself.
Even though I walk through a valley where dark shadows intervene in life,
I will not fear, for the Spirit is within me.
The tools which keep me from despair are a comfort. Even in the face of threats to my life, the Spirit nourishes me, honours me by its presence and reminds me that I really have more than I need. Surely goodness and kindness radiate are always with me, and I will dwell within this universe always.

I think in these times, it is worth going back to this Psalm and using it as a prayer - you prepare a place for me, right where my enemies are. The cup of my life runs over with your goodness. No matter what happens in my life, goodness and compassion go with me. You are with me. Thanks be to God.

Sources:
1. The Good Shepherd by Rev. Thomas Hall
2. The 23rd Psalm by Rev. Richard Kiely, Unitarian Church, Edmonton Alberta.

Earth and Sky Third Sunday of Easter Earth Day sermon

2009-04-25T14:40:00.004-04:00

Have you ever read “The Tipping Point”, by Malcolm Gladwell? In this book, Gladwell looks at how little things can make a big difference, how small details turn a local fad into a national trend, or a single illness into an epidemic. Gladwell identifies the “tipping points” that create big changes, events that weight a trend or belief and create a large shift: what works in marketing, like how college officials got kids to get tetanus shots, and why children’s television programs work. One of the “Tipping Points” Gladwell describes in the book is the “sticky message.”
Sticky messages are memorable; sticky messages are useful and practical. They fit into our lives and make good sense. A “sticky message” stays with people, and compels them to respond and to act.

Gladwell looked at children’s television programs. Why, he wondered, do kids love Sesame Street and Blues Clues? Turns out that the people who created Sesame Street and Blues Clues
figured out how to make the message “sticky” with one simple idea: If you can hold the attention of children, you can educate them. The message on these programs is simple . It doesn’t have to be clever, but it does have to be literal and clear, and in the form of a story. Kids love to hear a story over and over again. They like stories to be repetitive, because the story is a new experience each time they hear it. “Sticky messages” show us that there is a simple way to package a message. So we have “stickies”.

Listen to words from John: “See what love God has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.”

In Romans 8, Paul says: "We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now--- creation awaits with eager longing the revealing of the children of God.”

"The whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now..creation awaits the revealing of the children of God." From its earliest days, the human race has sought to control the natural world, to bend it to whatever purpose we determine should be used for our benefit. Rather than being seen as a gift from God, in the last couple of centuries particularly, it has become nothing more than a commodity, something to be used as a means of profit. Every year thousands of species of God's creatures - all part of creation - have become extinct at the hands of the human race.

“As international corporations have moved into poor nations, the natural resources have been taken and the environment has often been poisoned in the process. The result is not just damage to the earth and the creatures of the earth, but to human beings as well. I believe that by the latest count of the United Nations, 12 million children under the age of six die every year over the world. Many are killed in conflicts - Afghanistan and the Middle East-- but most of them die from starvation, polluted water or other environmentally caused conditions and diseases. While this is happening, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. In 2009, the gap between the richest people in the world and the poorest has never been greater - and that gap is expanding.”

You cannot have healthy people on a sick earth-- and not only nature but the human race is groaning like a woman in labour. When I first went to Japan in 1970 - the city of Tokyo was approximately 16.5 million people. The bay was so full of sludge that there were bets as to what would happen if a plane taking off Haneda, which was the airport then - landed in the bay. It was ugly - there were lines of demarkation in the water as the sediment and pollution got thicker and thicker. Most days you could not see a block down the street - and I was introduced to allergies and smog. As of 2005, the population of the whole urban agglomeration which makes up greater Tokyo and environs is approximately 26.8 million. The population of all of Canada in the same year was approximately 32.6 million. Today, the bay in Tokyo is relatively clean, and so is the air. Smog days are rare; fishing in the rivers is again possible. Pollution in this huge city, has been cut dramatically. Garbage is incinerated, with zero emissions.

Let’s contrast this with Greater Toronto - a small city, just over 5 million. In 2004 we had 14 smog days. In 2005 we had 48. Of that, 50% is trans-border and trans-boundary pollution; but a huge 36% is caused by residential and commercial. April 19th, 2008 was the first warm day of the year, and interestingly enough was the first smog alert day in 2008. Now, of course, I am stringing a lot of things together - but for me it shows a trend.....and not a good one by the way. We don't want incinerators around, citing possible pollution, yet we send our garbage elsewhere to be dumped. And we think that's better?

I can never read the passage from Romans without thinking of the late Isaac Asimov. Asimov was a prolific writer, and a man who understood ecological responsibility long before the reset of us started to turn “green”. Asimov wrote a science fiction story about the planet as an organism in itself, and humans as a disease making the planet sick. Like all organisms, the planet’s immune system kicked in and it began to eliminate the diseased cells, in order to restore itself to health again. It isn’t that far out - as we make a mess of everything, in our own immediate interests - the reactions are coming more often. Asimov also wrote a non-fiction book called “Our Angry Earth”, in which he predicts that we have already gone too far, and now cannot reverse the damage.

What have we seen? Stronger and more frequent hurricanes, all over the world. Heavier snows in more unstable weather. More tornados and wild storms in the southern US. Tornado alley now in Ontario. Sea levels rising as the polar ice caps melt. And while there is some speculation that the sun has warmed a teeny bit, the data supports the conclusion that the bulk of carbon emissions causing this global warming are created by humans and our activities.

Indeed, the whole creation is groaning in labour pains. But what is to be born? A new generation of environmentalists? No. The Epistle to the Romans tells us that the creation awaits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God. Who is that? It's us, folks! The children of God are those who have been born of the spirit, and who honour God as parent and creation as the gift it was meant to be. The whole of creation awaits those who live not by the law of violence and greed, but by the law of love.

In the resurrection, new life as demonstrated in Jesus, God has also shown us that as children of creation, we have a role to play which is witness to the great love of God in creation. Jesus came as a witness to that love, and that creation. As Easter people we are called to no less.
We have a hymn in More Voices - Called by Earth and Sky.....

Called by earth and sky, promise of hope held high,
this is our sacred living trust, treasure of life sanctified.
Called by earth and sky.

Precious this gift, the air we breathe, wind born and free.
Breath of the Spirit, blow through this place, our gathering and our grace.
Called by earth and sky.

Precious these mountains, ancient sands; vast, fragile land.
Seeds of our wakening, rooted and strong, Creation’s faithful song.
Called by earth and sky.

Sources:

1. Sermon for Earth Day, by Rev. Franklin E. Vilas, Dmin. Preached on April 21, 2002 at St. Paul’s Church, Paterson, NJ.

2. Excerpts from “A Sticky Gospel”, by Rev. Christian Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling Illinois.

Holy Humour Sunday April 19, 2009

2009-04-25T14:34:00.003-04:00

Last Sunday we didn't have a sermon, but rather jokes and fooling in our service. Here is the bulletin from that celebration. Our general "theme" was cruising and ships.

Feast of Fools Day!!!!!
Holy Hilarity Sunday!!!!!!
Bright Sunday!!!!!!

“Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said to himself ‘Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Can Sarah who is ninety years old, bear a child?’” Genesis 17:17

“A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.” Ecclesiastes 3:4

Boarding the Ship

Call to Worship
Alleluia! Jesus is risen!!
The joke is on the Devil, the whole world laughs!
Death has been defeated by life.
The joke’s on death. Let joy ring out!
Alleluia! Come celebrate!
We come, to worship, to laugh and play, to celebrate.

*Opening Hymn “Easter Celebrations” (To the tune Jesus Christ is Risen Today)
Rising early in the morn, Alleluia!
Smiling at the Easter dawn, Alleluia!
Lent is o’er, the fast is done, Alleluia!
Now is time for food and fun, Alleluia!

After Mass we fill our glass, Alleluia!
Hunt for eggs in the long grass, Alleluia!
It’s a day to dance and sing, Alleluia!
For we greet the Easter spring, Alleluia!

All the want that we’ve endured, Alleluia!
Now our shopping has procured, Alleluia!
Cake and sweets and chocolate things, Alleluia!
All washed down with many gins, Alleluia!

*Processing of the Easter Light

Cruising Together

Prayer of the Day (Together)
God of Delight and Merriment, thank you for the gift of laughter. As we open our mouths to smile or grin, open wide our hearts to your surprising joy. Tickle our funny bones, we pray. Poke holes in our too-serious outlook. Teach us to relish each moment. Sparkle spirit through our entire being, and infect every particle of creation with holy hilarity. We pray in the name of Jesus, whose rich, warm laughter surrounds us always.

*Hymn “Now Our Lent is Done” (to the tune of Now the Green Blade Rises)
Now the days have come when all our fast is done.
Holy Week is past us, pilgrims every one .
Strength, Christian, strength, for Easter now has dawned.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.

Forty days restraining from temptations wide.
Tastes and habits training, abstinence from pride.
Pleasure and pastimes we have put to scorn.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.

After mass this morning, homeward we will run.
Full of grace arisen, and an Easter bun.
Eggs wrapped in foil, and sherry on the lawn.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.

The Jokes of the People

Offering Our Thanks
Offering
Invitation to the Offering
Offering (All of our gifts will be brought to the table.)
Offering Hymn “Coffee, Coffee, Coffee” (to the tune of Holy, Holy, Holy)
Coffee, coffee, coffee, praise the strength of coffee.
Early in the morn we rise, with only thought of thee.
Served fresh or reheated, dark by thee defeated,
brewed black by perk, or drip, or instantly.

Though all else we scoff, we come to church for coffee;
if we’re late to congregate we come in time for thee.
Coffee our one ritual, drinking it habitual,
brewed black by perk, or drip or instantly.

Coffee the communion of our church’s union,
symbol of our sacred grounds, our one necessity.
Fell the holy power of our coffee hour,
brewed black by perk, or drip or instantly.

The Jokes of the People

Response “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah” (sing twice)
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
My oh my what a wonderful day,
plenty of sunshine going my way,
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay.

Mr. Bluebird’s on my shoulder,
It’s so grand, it’s actual,
highly satisfactual,
zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Wonderful feeling, wonderful day.

Going Back Down the Gangway to Land

The Jokes of the People

*Hymn “Joy to the World” VU 59

Blessing
I’d like to leave you with one last thought this morning. Beware of joy stealers and killjoys! They are everywhere! Keith Barnett wrote: “Nowhere is it told of the devil that he wants us to experience joy. Circumstances can rob us of our joy, if we allow them. Things and money certainly can be thieves of our joy. People can be the greatest thieves of all.” Don’t let circumstances, things or people rob you of your Easter Joy!!!!

We will celebrate Easter every day of our lives. Thanks be to God for resurrection and for life!!!! Alleluia!!!

Commissioning “Go Forth and Keep on Giggling” (to the tune of Sent Forth By God’s Blessing)
Go forth and keep on giggling, perhaps even trying wiggling,
we learn how to live more graciously when we lose face.
There’s nothing complicated in folks giving thanks for blessings,
in folks celebrating Jesus whose footsteps we trace.
Laughing frees us from pompous notions that we are
more special than other people in whom God’s light shines
as bright as in us. We make life so much harder
when we separate ourselves from the God
who will always feed us; so climb on the bus.

In large ways and in small ways, for straight people and for all gays,
God graciously opens windows of hope and new life.
Surprises all around us, unleash possibilities that
we never imagined could be achieved without strife.
Prejudice, animosity are completely eradicated and
we double over laughing, for Christ is alive.
So let us never waver for God holds us all in favour,
there’s good news for all Creation, and that ain’t no jive!

Hymns and prayers today are taken from:
The Pharisaios Journal, www.pharisaios.co.uk; The Fellowship of Merry Christians; materials collected by Rev. Sandra Sellars, Saskatchewan; and Rev. Terri Powell Bracy, Warren, Michigan.

"Is it Real?" Easter Sunday 2009 John 20:1-18, Gospel of Mary Ch. 9, Mark 16:1-8

2009-04-11T13:42:00.005-04:00

MARY COMES TO THE TOMB

The wet earth clings to my feet

on this early morning errand

that weighs me down with death.

I have not slept; my food is tasteless;

my heart aches, aches.

How can it be in this fractured world

that morning still comes?

I wince as sparrows gather at my window, singing,

and I wish my own mind were so small that,

like these birds, it could not grasp

the barrenness of this bleakest dawn.

I am finished with love, dead as the tomb

that is my hopeless destination.

That place is sealed, shut tight as my soul,

yet I am drawn there.

For it is where I left my love behind.

I need to return, alone in my misery,

perhaps to find a shred of him

to carry in my fisted heart.

But someone else has already come.

Who is this that stands in the way

of my mourning?

A few weeks ago a friend of mine lost her husband to cancer. As we talked this week, some of what she said has echoed in my mind. She had never felt this kind of pain before in her life, she said, and didn’t know where to go with it. Because they knew it was coming, he and she together had been able to plan, and had time to say goodbye. But, she said, in the bereavement group she has met people who lost their loved ones suddenly and tragically, and didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.

Whether or not there was a chance to say goodbye, nothing will ever be the same again. It’s right about now, right at Easter, when my friend is asking deep in her very deepest soul, if resurrection is real - and if it is, what does it mean?

Well, to preach resurrection is also to preach about Good Friday, and a whole sequence of events.
Someone I know in the church once tried to suggest that we should preach only the good news of Easter, and leave Good Friday out of it. I am not of that persuasion. In my belief, Easter means nothing unless we go through the events of the previous days, however painful they are. Easter is, in a sense, a kind of “bipolar” celebration. We are in the process of grief because the one we love is gone, and yet we are ecstatic because we know that the one we love still lives on. We have to go through the Passover evening of Thursday, the crucifixion of Friday, the waiting through the Sabbath, and waking to an empty spot in a graveyard on Sunday morning - and then celebrating!

So we recap the story a little. Jesus had been brought to court and sentenced to death. His death was by crucifixion, the normal means of execution under the Roman occupation. The crucifixion happened on a Friday, which meant that the Sabbath began at sunset, and that fact complicated the burial. Normally, there would be a time of preparing the body with care. But since no one is allowed to work after the beginning of Sabbath, there was only enough time to find a tomb and bury him. No time to take the herbs and spices and wrap the body properly.

Two gospels are given us for texts this week - and I decided to play with them a little because they are so very different. In the Gospel of John, Mary first goes to the tomb alone, with no plan in mind. She just needs to be where Jesus was laid - to grieve and to think. When she finds the tomb empty she runs to Peter, who then runs to see, leaves again - and then Mary sees Jesus and speaks with him.

In Mark, Mary sets out on the first morning of the new week with two others, taking along the spices and herbs to dress the body. When she arrives, the tomb is open, the body is gone, and a young man in white tells her Jesus is no longer there, he is risen - but to go and tell the others. Mark’s Gospel ends there - they leave but don’t speak about it to anyone. They are afraid.

Now, both experiences were real to those people. In John’s Gospel Mary relays that she saw and spoke to Jesus - and indeed, even in the text outside the Bible, what we call the ‘extra-canonical’ texts - the Gospel of Mary - she talks about her experience and things Jesus said to her.

However, in Mark - the oldest of the four Gospels, none of this is included. Mark has three women going to the tomb to complete a ritual which should have been done prior to the burial. Jesus is gone, the three women are witnesses to that. They aren’t sure what has happened, but they surely don’t believe he is resurrected.

What was Mary thinking about? Seeing the stone moved, had she thought, "O look, someone took care of removing the stone for me!"? No - instead, she was frightened when she realised the stone wasn't where it was supposed to be. Without even looking in the tomb, she became concerned that she couldn't do what she came to do! I believe she was feeling that pain greater than any she had felt before, and she didn’t know where to go with it - so she went to the place where she believed he still was - to be as close to him as she possibly could. But she was frustrated in not being able to anoint the body - it would have been her goodbye, and even that chance was taken away from her. She couldn’t process it all, and she and the others ran away frightened.

In Mary’s cry “They have taken him and I do not know where they have laid him” is the cry of a woman in pain and confusion, not able to see how she is going to go on, going through motions of keeping busy, trying to do the things which would be normal because she can’t think of what else to do - and everything feels dead and empty.

Now the problem wasn't the empty tomb. The problem was what Mary, the women, Peter, John, all of them, were expecting to find. Both Peter and Mary came to the tomb expecting to find a corpse. When it wasn't there, they were confused. When John arrived at the tomb, he was looking for resurrection. He saw the cloths and walked away almost believing.

But all of them were asking one question - is it real? What is real about it? Did Jesus really come back, or is it a big hoax? The early Jews believed in resurrection at the “last day”, when the trumpet sounded and the dead would be raised. That whole belief was called into question. We still ask today, is it real? Every time someone close to us dies we ask it again.

Did Jesus really somehow miraculously get up and walk out of the tomb? No. I don’t think he came back and walked around looking like the Jesus they remembered. He died! I believe that is part of why Mary didn’t recognise the person she thought was a gardener. He died! His physical body died, but he lived. Is it real that our loved ones, who are gone from this world, live on in another way? I believe it is real. It isn’t a reality we can grasp, because it is different from this one, but just because we cannot see it or feel it or even touch it, doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Jesus’ physical body was not resuscitated, he didn’t get up and keep on going. But his spiritual person, that part of him who made Jesus who he was - that lived.

In his first letter to the church at Corinth, Paul spoke about resurrection. He wrote “But some ask, "How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?" How foolish! What you plant does not come to life unless it first dies. When you plant a crop, you do not plant the body that will be, but a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. God gives it a body; to each kind of seed its own body. All flesh is not the same: people have one kind of flesh, animals have another, birds and fish another. There are also heavenly and earthly bodies; the splendour of the heavenly bodies is one kind, the splendour of the earthly bodies is another. The sun has one kind of splendour, the moon another and the stars another; and star differs from star in splendour.

So it is with resurrection. The body that is sown is perishable, but is raised imperishable; .......it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.”

So yes, it is real. Resurrection is real. The pain of parting, the pain of living after a loved one has died, does not go away. But resurrection is part of our faith. These early witnesses - the other disciple, Peter, and Mary Magdalene - remind us that coming to faith is not an assembly line product but a dynamic process; faith comes through a complex of interactions between our personalities, contexts and histories. Whether through an immediate decision to encounter resurrection, or through a long and circuitous route, God will lead us home to that incredible mystery.

Good News for Easter, good news for all those Easters in our lives...that was the message of the first morning, and the message this morning as we go about life again. Hallelujah!

Sources:
1. Poem by Rev. Timothy Haut, Deep River, Connecticut

2. Material from the sermons “Looking for the Wrong Thing in the Wrong Place” by Rev. Randy Quinn; “Why are You Weeping?” by Rev. Thomas Hall.

3. Gospel of Mary: Papyrus Berolensis 8052, Papyrus Oxyrhyncus. Contained in the Nag Hammadi Library.

Parades and Purposes - Palm Sunday 2009 A Haggadah

2009-04-04T16:17:00.002-04:00

Sixth in a series based on "Christianity for the Rest of Us" by Diana Butler Bass

Mark 11:1-11
As they came closer to Jerusalem, they rested at Bethphage and Bethany near the Mount of Olives. Jesus sent two disciples ahead, and told them "Go to the village ahead of you. Just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it back. If anyone asks you why, say that 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.' " They went, and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, some people asked, "What are you doing?" They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go. They brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it so he could ride it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields. Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted,
"Hosanna!"
"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"
"Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!"
"Hosanna in the highest!"
******************************************************************************
Jesus wandered away from the others into a small field and sat down wearily under a tree in the shade. Two disciples had gone off to look for the colt, the others were flopped about, tired and napping a little. He needed some space to collect his energy. The time was coming, events were moving inevitably to a violent end. He knew some of the disciples had already figured it out, but were hoping against hope that something would happen which would change everything for the better. He also knew they weren’t expressing their fears to him. He had tried to speak to them, but it seemed like they didn’t want to hear it. He felt so alone, as if even God had left him. He wanted to go to Gethsemane, where he was always at peace, and just clear his head.

He thought back over the short three years of ministry. What a struggle that had been. He had spent years trying to avoid the call, but God would not let go. In that insistent way, God kept nudging him. John, his cousin, was executed, and someone had to step in - and he knew John expected it would be him. The religious leaders had become too accustomed to the power they wielded, the politics of living under Roman rule. They had to be called back to the law of God. When he finally accepted the call, and went to be baptised, it was the hardest thing he had ever done. Yet he knew in his heart that it was the right thing to do. He had a call. It would require all his strength and courage. It would mean working from the ground up to encourage people to re-assess their lives and their ways. The religious leaders would not be happy. They enjoyed a position and power, which Pontius Pilate and Herod allowed to continue so long as they didn’t try to rock the political boat.

As he sat there thinking, the faces of people in his life rose in front of him - a blind man who learned to see, a leper who learned to live beyond the restraints of an ignorant society, a woman by a well, a woman who touched the hem of his cloak, people on a hillside sitting in the sun listening, Peter, Mary - dear Mary who stayed by him when everyone else questioned. The people everywhere, wanting part of him. He never really understood the strange power he had to make things happen, but he didn’t doubt that it came from God. Nevertheless, sometimes he wished it would go away, so he could just return to Sepphoris and Nazareth, keep on working as a builder and have a normal life. Ministry on the road was anything but normal.

He fell asleep in the warmth and the gentle air.
******************************************************************
The two disciples returned with the colt, but not wanting to wake him, set out some water from the well, and tied the colt again under a tree.

As Jesus awoke, and saw the colt there, the whole of reality came rushing back in on him again. As he glanced at the angle of the sun, he realised it was time to move so he could get into Jerusalem and see the temple before going out again for the night.

As usual, as soon as people knew he was around, the crowds began to gather. The disciple spread a couple of cloaks on the colt, and Jesus mounted. Peter led the colt, and the others walked alongside. People by the road began to spread their cloaks in the path. Some of the people cut branches off the trees and bushes along the road, threw them in the road, and waved them in the air as he passed, with shouts of “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is the one who comes in God’s name!” and “He is the one who will save us!”

Listening to the crowds, he wondered. He had thought ministry was about transforming lives. He thought some had been transformed - at least, certainly the people he had touched, and who had touched him. But the temple and the leaders, would they have been transformed? Would they remember to live the spirit of the law rather than hiding behind their own interpretation of the letter? Would they put their own safety and comfort first, or would they listen and reach out to the community around them?

He knew that even as he came into Jerusalem through the lower gate, the equivalent of the servant’s entrance, Pilate and his centurions would be riding in on their huge horses through the upper gate, making as big an impression as possible, making it clear to the Jewish population that no insurgency would be tolerated this Passover.

So here he was, in a parade. Riding into the city, up to the temple, being cheered and hailed as a messiah, the one who would free people from the Romans and take back the city. Why had he ever started out on this strange journey called ministry? The road ahead was murky - oh he could see literally to Jerusalem, but would it end with violence? Or would it end with transformation of lives and people? What was really the purpose? He had touched many lives, he knew that. But people being people tended to drift into comfort zones rather than pushing the edges. He had thought his purpose was transformation, and yet he couldn’t see it really happening. In three short years he had worked hard to heal people’s pain, bring them hope and optimism, give them purpose. How could he do that if he wasn’t sure of his own purpose? And when he left them, would they unite as one? Would they understand what he had meant as he taught them? Would they be able to carry on, or just wander off to their own lives again?

Sighing again, he put those thoughts out of his mind, pushed the doubts away, and smiled at the crowds.

Promises and Reflection Fifth Sunday in Lent Psalm 51:1-12

2009-03-28T14:35:00.002-04:00

Fifth in a series based on Christianity for the Rest of s, by Diana Butler Bass

This week’s lectionary texts deal with two things in our spiritual lives - God’s commitment to us as we grow in faith, and our prayer to God to help us grow in faith. Coincidentally the two chapters in the book we are studying deal with reflection and beauty. Rather than preach a whole sermon today, we are going to do a different exercise - I am going to give you a few quotes from the book, and then we are going to break into smaller groups and talk to each other.

You might remember that when our Presbytery came to look at congregational life in Glen Ayr, one of the recommendations of that visit was that as a congregation we needed to spend more time in reflection on who we are, and in spiritual education and development. Now, most congregations tend to think that if they show up on Sunday morning, and maybe attend a Bible study once in a while, where the minister tells them what the Bible says, they are getting a spiritual education, and growing in faith. That isn’t true. Yes, the minister is a teacher, called for a certain expertise in interpretation and theology, but there is more to Christian development.

Here’s a bit from “Christianity for the Rest of Us”, a book about how mainline churches are quietly transforming themselves and becoming part of the neighborhood again. This is a quote:

‘The Christian life of the mind is not, however, merely some disembodied or mystical experience. “What got me excited when I first came [to this church]” said one Florida Methodist, “was that God was very real here, that it wasn’t just words. People really, really meant what they were doing.” Along with theological generosity, the practice of reflection in the congregations on my journey expressed the active intellect. The people I met clearly loved words and ideas, but the strove to connect words with action, to authenticate words by works of mercy and justice.”

Another church goer commented that “theological reflection taught her that learning about Christianity was not enough, you have to learn Christianity.”

An Arizona man said “God didn’t ask us to check our intellect in the parking lot when we drove in and the service started.”

...and in fact, I would observe, God created our intellect, and intended for us to use it, not just to reflect on everything else, but reflect on ourselves too. Theological reflection - a practice of using our faith to reflect on life, and using our life to reflect on faith.

So this morning, I want us together in small groups to do some theological reflection (slide into groups of four or five). What I would like you to do is use Psalm 51 (printed in the bulletin). Read it quietly to yourselves for awhile, and think about what the words might mean to you. I will give you a few minutes to do this. Then, in your groups, as you feel comfortable, please reflect with others on what this passage might mean for you in your life today.

Sources: Diana Butler Bass “Christianity for the Rest of Us” , pp. 187 and 191.

Contemplation and Testimony March 22, 2009 Fourth Sunday in Lent

2009-03-21T17:49:00.000-04:00

Fourth in a series based on Christianity for the Rest of Us, by Diana Butler Bass.

To affect the quality of the day, that is the highest of arts. Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its details, worthy of the contemplation of his most elevated and critical hour.
Henry David Thoreau

The essence of any religion lies solely in the answer to the question: why do I exist, and what is my relationship to the infinite universe that surrounds me?
Leo Tolstoy

Silence. It isn’t something we do well in the United Church. Silence makes us nervous, after a minute or so. I went looking for biblical references to silence, in terms of contemplation, and found one which fit - from the Book of Revelation, chapter 8, verse 1 - “and when he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour.” We have references in the gospels of Jesus going off by himself to pray and meditate. Sitting in silence, fasting in the desert, wrestling with a call to give his life. From reading between the lines, we can guess that Jesus used meditation, and contemplation, as a way of staying focussed and spiritually healthy when things threatened to come apart.

When we talk about contemplation in the church, we tend to think of it as unproductive silence. We tend to think of boring people going around saying nothing, taking a vow of silence. A quick look in the lists will find us many orders which employ and engage in contemplation, but not necessarily silence. Among them are the Augustinians of the Midwest (Order of St. Augustine) which is a religious order, but there is also Augustinians of the Rosary, a religious order for laity and professed members who live out their vows while remaining in the world. There are the Capuchin Sisters of Nazareth - a joyful order of apostolic contemplative sisters who live in community and who work with the youth and in parish missions, and the Companions of St. Luke Benedictine, an Anglican Community based on the Rule of St. Benedict. It is open to single and avowed partners, both men and women. The Priory honors the past with rich traditions, but also recognizes the needs of a contemporary society. Just in case you thought the contemplative orders were all Christian, there is also the Sacred Order of Living Paganism, which is a spiritual order of brothers and sisters dedicated to deep Pagan learning and service.

Look up the meaning of contemplation - it means thoughtful observation, deep consideration, purpose or intention, prospect or expectation. That’s a little more than sitting in silence, or doing nothing.

One of the most noted of the Christian mystics, Hildegard of Bingen, was both a contemplative, a mystic, and one who constantly testified, through her music, her visionary art, and her writings and words. She was the leader of her sister community. When her immediate superior refused to allow her and the community more freedom and independence, she went over his head to get approval from Archbishop Henry I of Mainz. She was hesitant to share her visions, confiding only to one sister. At the age of 42, she received a vision she believed to be an instruction from God, to "write down that which you see and hear."

Diana Butler Bass says that many church growth specialists (and probably some of us) think that successful churches keep everyone entertained in worship. Silence is seen as a turnoff. Tradition in the church reserved contemplation and silence for a handful of people. It has not been encouraged among congregations. No wonder we are uncomfortable with silence. John Fiorni, who teaches at Johns Hopkins University, says that noise is described in Latin as horrovacui, or fear of nothingness or emptiness. In our lives, we tend to fill up every moment with some kind of noise - talking, music, whatever. In our worship, we have to fill up every moment with prayer, music, preaching - and we rarely sit in contemplation. But to be spiritually healthy, we cannot reserve this for just some sort of spiritual elite. If contemplation means deep consideration, purpose or intention, then every congregation should be engaging in periods of contemplation in order to determine the purpose and intention, the reason the congregation has for *being*. Far from being an odd thing that only a few people do, it should be something we all do. The church offers us seasons, such as Advent and Lent, to take advantage of the opportunity to do some “intentional reflection”, and pay attention to God.

But contemplation doesn’t just mean silence. It also means times of speaking. Testimony. There’s another scary word for us, because we get in our head visions of televangelists rattling off rote “testimonies” of faith, and calling people into emotional commitments to something, whatever. Testimony is another thing, like silence, that we don’t do in the church. We think faith should only be a private thing. And of course, in the United Church, we don’t “do” testimony. We don’t say what we believe, unless it is included in an order of service, and we say it all together so no one sticks out. I wonder if any of us would have the courage to stand in front of our congregation, and say openly what we believe. Well, of course I can - to a point. Preaching, teaching and leading are all parts of testimony. Confession is a part of it, of course. But I am thinking of testimony in terms of telling others about our journey in faith, how we got to where we are now, what this community of faith means to us in the journey.

The disciples and followers of Jesus, in the Book of Acts, went from place to place testifying to their faith. Acts 8 says “When they had testified and proclaimed the word of God, Peter and John returned to Jerusalem, preaching the gospel in many Samaritan villages.”

Diana Butler Bass talks about the advertising campaign of the United Church of Christ, called “God is Still Speaking”. She notes that the Christian story is not about distant historical events, although these are part of the basis of faith; rather she says the Christian story of the power of faith is something which has relevance here and now. Stories of discovering faith, living faith, struggling faith and risky faith.

She notes sociologist Anthony Giddons claims that each of us not only ‘has’ a biography, we live a biography. The great philosopher Hegel spoke of the universe unfolding; likewise, our lives unfold as we live them. In fact or lives, and our faith journeys, are narratives. When we are able to see ourselves in the narrative, we can gain confidence in speaking about it.

I wondered, as I wrote this, how many of us spend time in contemplation, reflection on purpose and intent; and how many would be willing to speak about their life journey in front of others. Or book leads us to churches where people are willing to risk. In this Lent, a time of meditation and reflection, would we be willing?

Believing and Living the Promise Third Sunday in Lent John 2:13-22

2009-03-14T18:33:00.005-04:00

Third in a series of sermons on "Christianity for the Rest of Us" by Diana Butler Bass.

Jerusalem, - a city of over three million people, packed with even more people who have walked across the Negev, the Shepelah, from the Mediterranean coast, and the Tigris /Euphrates basin, to commemorate their liberation from oppression in Egypt.

From the time of Moses, when the law was given, sacrifice was part and parcel of Passover. But many people didn’t want the hassle of getting animals across the desert, and maybe losing the animal altogether. Many people preferred to buy in the city, and save time and effort.

Why animals being sold in the Temple? The historian Josephus suggests that a feud between the Sanhedrin and Caiaphas, the High Priest, forced the Sanhedrin from their office space in the Temple. In retaliation, the Sanhedrin invited merchants to sell animals outside the Temple area, near them. Not to be out-retaliated, Caiaphas allowed merchants to sell animals and exchange money inside the Temple precinct. Worshippers could not use official secular money - they had to exchange it for Temple money. So the outer courtyard where the Gentiles came to worship was full of animals, tables and the sound the secular coinage being exchanged for kosher coinage, and the Temple precinct was as well. A place of worship was turned into a trading post. Neither the Jews nor the Gentile converts could worship.

Jesus entered Jerusalem. He didn’t go there very often, and maybe hadn’t kept up on the inner politics of the temple. He went planning to spend time in worship and prayer, and found instead a market where the poor were being charged exorbitant prices, and brisk commercial enterprises. He grabbed some cords and tied them into a whip, set the animals loose, hurled the tables of the money-changers over, sending the money all over the ground, and screamed “You have turned this place of worship into a shopping mall."

I bet it was difficult for people to decide if they should applaud Jesus, or be embarrassed at his behaviour. This was pretty unusual, even for Jesus. Most of the worshippers probably wanted to come for some comfort, and calmness. Not only could they not get it in this already noisy place, but the whole day is shot when Jesus has a tantrum and brings everything to a spectacular halt.

In the Gospel, John has Jesus fired up that a place of worship had been turned into a marketplace, a money-making event. He defended Jesus’ actions as a case of confronting extortion and worship-gouging, and using the temple as a place to work out hostilities. Not only had the time of Passover been turned into a time of making more money for the temple, but the real core of the festival - the promise of God that there would be freedom from oppression - had been subsumed into oppression of others by the religious leaders. My vision of Jesus in this instant is that he was vein-popping furious.

In John’s gospel we’re right in the middle of a worship war. It isn’t about selling Fair Trade coffee after the service, raising funds for an outreach project. It is about far more than that. It is about God’s promise to the people, and the people believing the promise, only to be squeezed into another kind of oppression by the very ones who are supposed to be helping them grow in faith. It is about personal hostilities, and corporate greed being lived out even inside a place of worship. Jesus brings the focus right back to the purpose of worship and justice, and how they are lived out in the world.

There’s a clue here about the promise, too. Jesus was asked to show a miraculous sign that his authority is from God. Jesus responded, "OK, I’ll give you a sign. Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up again. Top that one."

What no one realised, except perhaps Jesus, was a clear intimation of the renewed promise of God. John of course painted the listeners as really thick - all they could think of was the physical temple being completely razed, and Jesus somehow magically putting it all back together. Jesus, once again, left them with a zinger loaded with meaning.

On that day Jesus challenged an entire system - the street address that locked God to a specific place on earth, the way business was done, and the confidence placed in a structure that was supposed to last forever. He walked in, claimed a new authority, and another locus of worship: Jesus named himself as the new temple in which the Spirit of God lived.

There are two things outstanding in this reading for me. First, the issue of justice, which was among the commandments given to Moses, and contained in the Torah. Or perhaps I should say the issue of a gross injustice being perpetrated by a group of religious leaders who had themselves lived as slaves, and were now making slaves out of others who only wished to worship and live in peace.

In the book “Christianity for the Rest of Us”, Diana Butler Bass quotes theologian and biblical scholar Walter Wink, about the powers of the world - and I think this quote gets to the core of what really hit Jesus in that moment. Wink says:

“The Powers That Be are not, then, simply people and their institutions as I had first thought; they also include the spirituality at the core of those institutions and structures. If we want to change those systems, we will have to address not only their outer forms, but their inner spirit as well.”

In his sermon “Who Said You Could Do That?”, Rev. Thomas Hall asks if we run through our orders of worship and are more concerned about doing it right, than whether our whole being is attuned to worshipping God.

In the issues of justice, and belief in a promise, have we allowed lesser authorities to supplant God? Doing justice means first that we have to believe in the promises of God. If we believe the promises, then we move into the world witnessing to others about the peaceable realm of God.

I think in the moments when Jesus turned everything upside down, he realised the connection of worship and justice. If we believe the promises God made, then our worship has to reflect in every way a commitment to those promises. The result of that worship is to motivate us to live that out by engaging the spiritual centre of those powers which push God to the side.

The whole story of church renewal and transformation is a story of being willing to engage again with our faith, and make a commitment to discipleship which takes us outside the boundaries and outside the box. A fantasy? Perhaps - but Paul tells us in Corinthians that God’s foolishness is wiser than our wisdom - and we are encouraged, and exhorted, through faith, to engage any powers which prevent the coming of the realm of God.

I’m going to close with a piece of music called “Nella Fantasia” - “In my fantasy”. The words are by Chiara Ferrau, music by Enrico Morricone. It was originally written as a music score for the movie “The Mission”, about a Jesuit priest in Brasil in the 18th century. The words offer a broad hope, even for life today. The piece speaks to our promises of justice, and a spiritual world where that justice is the foundation.

In my fantasy, I see a just world.
Where everyone lives in peace and honesty.
I dream of souls that are always free.
Like the clouds that float full of humanity
in the depths of the soul.

In my fantasy I see a bright world
where each night there is less darkness.
I dream of spirits that are always free,
like the clouds that float.

In my fantasy exists a warm wind
that blows into the city, like a friend.
I dream of souls that are always free,
like the clouds that float full of humanity,
in the depths of the soul.

******************************************************************************

Sources:
1. Diana Butler Bass, Christianity for the Rest of Us. HarperSanFrancisco, 2006.
2. Walter Wink, The Powers That Be: Theology for a New Millennium (New York, Doubleday, 1998.) 4.
3. Rev. Thomas Hall, from the sermon “Who Said You Could Do That?”
4. Nella Fantasia, by Chiara Ferrau and Enrico Morricone.

Knowing the Promise Lent 2 Genesis 17;1-7, 15-16, Romans 4:13-25

2009-03-07T18:09:00.003-05:00

Second in a series based on Diana Butler Bass' "Christianity for the Rest of Us"

A lay colleague of mine, Anna Murdock, tells a story of a dream. Anna is new to faith. She writes, often, about everything. What is enlivening and exciting about Anna is that she sees our faith through new eyes, and often sees things we don’t. Here is her dream.

“The pastor called to ask if there was anything that he could pick up for me at the Cokesbury bookstore. I asked him to pick up a particular study Bible and he said that he would. A week later, it arrived. I opened the Bible slowly, with the same reverence I open any new, treasured book. My eyes fell on the open page, where I saw, written in the pastor’s own handwriting, some God -words that he had recently e-mailed to me. I turned more pages, and throughout this Bible, the words that he had offered to me through the years, the Scriptures he had passed to me, the prayers he had e-mailed, were there in the margins and the spaces... all carefully written in his handwriting. Tears began to fall as I realized that all that he had to offer to me were indeed steeped in his prayers for me, and in God's words offered for him to pass on to me. I turned page after page. Intermingled with the pastor’s handwriting were other handwritings that I didn't recognize, but words that were familiar to me and cherished. In the box that the Bible came in was a gold pen. The ink was the same as that of the writing.”

Anna’s story is one of many things. It is one of hospitality, faith and discernment, recognising a promise, and healing. Anna found herself welcomed into the church in a way which spoke to her soul. Her journey in faith is one of finding true hospitality; it is one of seeking and discerning a direction, and Anna will be the first to tell you that the way is not always clear; but she will also tell you that in the process she is being healed.

When we are asked about our hospitality in the church, we tend to talk about the coffee time after the service, or our groups which meet for entertainment, cocktail parties and meals, or how welcoming we are if people walk in our door. These are all part of hospitality, of course. But isn’t there more than this? Henri Nouwen, the Catholic writer, says today’s Christians are in fact nomads, part of “a world of strangers, estranged from their own past, culture, and country, their neighbours, friends and family, from their deepest self, and their God.” In our contemporary and fragmented world, there is no other choice than to become a kind of nomad. He says that if there is “any concept worth restoring to its original depth and evocative potential, it is the concept of hospitality.” We often speak about God’s radical hospitality. It is radical. It is a hospitality which says everyone - even those who have a criminal record, or those who don’t look like us or think like us, those who are not from our socio-economic level - are all welcome in God’s house and at God’s table - and if we are hospitable we treat them with care and respect. Too often, though, our notion of hospitality is more of a strategy to get people to come in to church. It is manipulative, and frankly most people see through it.

Diana Butler Bass says “True Christian hospitality is not a recruitment strategy designed to manipulate strangers into church membership. Rather, it is a central practice of the Christian faith - something Christians are called to do just for the sake of that thing itself. Hospitality draws from the ancient taproots of the Christian faith, from the soil of the Middle East, where it is considered a primary virtue of community.” Through our hospitality we are to be imitators of God’s promise, and God’s welcome. The people of Cornerstone United Methodist Church in Florida would put it this way ‘ We don’t care who you are, where you come from, what color you are, what your background is, with whom you share your life. You are here now, at Cornerstone and you are a brother and sister.” Some of the Cornerstone people have never been part of a church before. They are the Annas, who come looking, and are offered the freedom to ask and not be criticised, to have ideas and not be judged. Opening our doors means an intentional opening of our hearts, putting ourselves at risk in order to offer to others the welcome God has offered to us.

In recent weeks you have heard me use the word discernment. We use it a lot in the church, and it generally means a “search for answers”. In the process for ministry, discernment is often seen as jumping through a whole lot of hoops in order to get to the point of being ordained. Discernment, is both an individual process, and also a community process of listening for truth, or hearing with our hearts and souls, the promise God has made, and continues to make. Discernment is finding out who we are as a spiritual community, what the purpose of our spiritual community is, and what the promise of our spiritual community is.

Look at the story of Abram and Sarai. They could have dismissed what God was trying to tell them as hopeless. Instead, they heard with their hearts that God did have something in store for them, long after they had given up. They heard the promise with their hearts, and believed the promise with their hearts. Diana Butler Bass quotes the story of Mary Magdalene in the garden, seeing Jesus again and not recognising him with her eyes; but when he speaks to her, recognising him with her heart, and hearing the truth. Bass quotes Rev. Randolph Charles, who says “The Easter life consists of finding our true identity in God, and knowing that God has given us something to do.” The Easter life, as lived out in a community of faith, always requires listening, reading, praying both individually and together. For the Annas of this world, those who are listening with all their hearts and souls; and for those of us who have been part of a church community for so long that we’ve lost the way. Learning to listen for God, and listen to God. There is a caveat, though - as my friend Anna would tell you. Discernment is a dangerous religious practice, because it involves self-examination, self-self-criticism, questions and risks - and discernment often sets us off in a totally different direction in our lives.

Discernment today, in a re-emergent church, is a spiritual process for a congregation to be “born again”. Discernment points the way, guides, the way, and becomes the way. Think about that - discernment points, guides, and becomes the way. When we hear the promise from God, in our hearts, and are willing to walk the road in faith, discernment becomes the way - it becomes our way of life.

And in finding our way, we also find a concept of shalom - an expression of God’s harmony. God’s shalom, the shalom of God’s creation, is a healing of creation. Shalom is closely related to salvation, the healing of the disordered and broken into the harmony of its created wholeness.” the very centre of shalom is communal harmony.

Growing in faith as a spiritual community is a process. It doesn’t happen overnight. We live out the hospitality God has shared with us, by learning to be hospitable. We listen for God’s word to our hearts in our community, and we trust those words. In the discerning and the hospitality we also find a way to harmony and healing. It is God’s promise - a promise which we have had for years, since the beginning of time. We know the promise. It’s a matter of hearing it again, of listening with our hearts and finding God leading on the way.

Sources:
All quotes taken from the book "Christianity for the Rest of Us" by Diana Butler Bass.

Living the Promise, Lent 1, 2009 Genesis 9: 8-17, Mark 1:9-15

2009-03-01T08:49:00.003-05:00

(First in a series based on the book "Christianity for the Rest of Us", by Diana Butler Bass)

As a child, my earliest strong memory of “church” was about the time we moved to Prince Albert, in Saskatchewan. My father had been called to Wesley United Church, and was involved heavily in the building of a new imposing structure, complete with Casavant pipe organ. It was just 1950 - the heyday of churches, and Wesley United was clearly in the vanguard of ths heyday. Prince Albert was not large, but like most settlements in North America, the Protestant churches had presence and power. The fifties and sixties, following the war, were a time of great growth in churches. The economy was booming, almost everyone was Christian, and churches went up everywhere.

But look a little closer at the history of Prince Albert. The Cree natives called it kistahpinanihk, the “sitting pretty place”, or “great meeting place”. The first farmer, on the site where the current city is, was an Anglo-Metis named James Isbister, an employee of the Hudson’s Bay Company. Chinese immigrants who worked the railroad also settled in Prince Albert - even in 1950 there were established businesses run by Chinese. Prince Albert, like Canada, was not founded or settled by Christians alone - our history is much more complex than that. By 1950, of course, the Cree natives who were the original inhabitants had been relegated to a reserve, across the river from the town, and the Chinese and Jewish populations were only visible if you really went looking.

Prince Albert isn’t gone, it is growing of course, and if I go back now, Wesley United is still there. But it isn’t the same any more. The town of Prince Albert in which I grew up simply isn’t there.

In her book “Christianity for the Rest of Us”, Diana Butler Bass talks about growing up in a part of Baltimore, Maryland, called Hamilton. She says “I grew up in a village that has vanished. .... Although Hamilton exists on the map, my childhood universe - an urban village of the 1960's - is gone. It’s almost as if it never existed at all. The names may be the same, but there are no maps, no freeway exits, back to the place that once was.” This is a story played out across all of North America. The landscape has changed dramatically, and it isn’t going to go back again.

Both Noah and Jesus had experience of dramatic change in their lives. In the case of Noah, the village he knew, and everything in it, disappeared. There was no way to return, even if he could have found the right landmarks. He had to beach the ark on an unknown piece of land, and start all over again. He did have his family with him, and some animals - and that was about it. The path of his life was altered irrevocably when he entered into relationship with God.

Jesus had a similar experience, and I struggle with whether or not it was intentional. I choose to believe it wasn’t. Jesus also entered into a relationship with God, and his life was irrevocably changed. Mark’s Gospel has offered us the bare bones of the story. Jesus was baptised, and Mark says that the Spirit sent him into the desert, and he was with the wild animals, but tended by angels. Mark says that when John was put in prison, Jesus began preaching about the coming realm. So Jesus began preaching about change when you enter into relationship with God.

Both Noah and Jesus, in their own way, had to go into the wilderness. They had to let go of everything they were familiar with, and trust God. They had to allow their entire lives to be changed by their faith, and by their exercise of that faith. Noah and his family lived on the ark with wild animals, and then got off the ark - somewhere. The story tells us God was with them. Jesus lived in the wilderness with wild animals, in a place unfamiliar to him, and on his own. But the story lets us know God was with him there too.

What does it mean for us to be in the wilderness? When are the times we feel we are the only ones facing uncertain futures? What makes us fearful? Do we want to circle the wagons and shut things out, hoping just to survive? Being in a wilderness means confronting our deepest longings and needs, and exposes us to danger - whether real or not. Neither Noah nor Jesus was actually harmed - so perhaps the wild animals in both places are a metaphor for those things in life which make us fearful.

Diana Butler Bass says “All over the planet, villages are vanishing. We know that everything is changing, that some sort of new world is emerging. Everywhere. And we have no idea what it is becoming.”

The book, “Christianity for the Rest of Us” , examines fifty congregations across the United States where new things are happening, from six denominations considered mainline churches, which are now considered to be in the minority in the Christian landscape. It is noted in the book that there is a myth around that only evangelical churches can grow, mainline churches can’t. Of these fifty churches, ten are studied in-depth. They are all mainline churches, not evangelical. Hence the title of the book - while the common perspective is that only evangelical or conservative churches are growing, the rest of us Christians are working away quietly and also growing and having an impact.

Of course the church is in the throes of this massive shift happening throughout our cultures. From being in a place where everyone else was like us, and we all did pretty much the same things - we are now dealing with congregants born post-1965 who don’t relate to that at all. In a sense, they are already more comfortable in the wilderness, and with the emerging world.

What if the time in the wilderness is where real vision of the peaceable realm of God comes? What if the time in the wilderness gave Jesus the insight and hope to begin preaching and teaching and healing and loving - wherever he was?

Diana Butler Bass says there are a couple of different sorts of Christians today. “There are those who prefer to build walled villages and do not want to see, and those who take risks in the wilderness and are willing to open their eyes.” The people who are willing to go into the wilderness are seekers on a faith journey, learning again what it means to live as a Christian and be a Christian in a rapidly changing world. They are forming a new kind of village, as a “pilgrim community”, rediscovering Christianity. She notes that the churches she visited were certainly not perfect, but they embodied courage, creativity, imagination, and risk. They were looking for new language to express their ideals, recreating their structures in a way which emphasised spirituality. They were experimenting with new forms of worship and living in community. It is sometimes called transformational church, but a term I like better is the re-remergent church.

The wisdom of this renewed, re-emergent church is, not surprisingly, based in a solid biblical model. “You preach the gospel, offer hospitality, and pay attention to worship and people’s spiritual lives. Frankly, you take Christianity seriously as a way of life.”

At the end of the story of Noah, God makes a promise. “It is a hard thing, to believe in a promise with no power to make it come true. Everything is in the future tense - the land.....the blessing. Everything will happen, by and by, but in the meantime what is there to live on now?

And yet. What better way to live than in the grip of a promise, and a divine one at that? Who in her right mind would give that back? To wake every morning to the possibility that today might be the day - to take nothing for granted. Or to take everything as granted, although not yet grasped....

To live like that is to discover that the blessing is not future but now. The promise may not be fully in hand. It may still be on the way, but to live reverently, deliberately, and fully awake - that is what it means to live in the promise, where the wait itself is just as rich as the end. All it takes are some regular reminders, because as long as the promise is renewed, the promise is alive, as vivid as a rainbow, as real as the million stars overhead.”

Sources:

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prince_Albert,_Saskatchewan
2. Diana Butler Bass, “Christianity for the Rest of Us”. HarperSanFrancisco, 2006.
3. Diana Butler Bass
4. Diana Butler Bass
5. Barbara Brown Taylor, from the sermon The Late Bloomer in Gospel Medicine, Cowley Publications, 1995.