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
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
“We Need a Little Christmas” Micah 5:2-5a, Luke 1:39-45 Fourth Sunday of Advent 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Joy Shall Come Philippians 4:4-7 “Rejoice in the Lord always.” Third Sunday of Advent 2009, Glen Ayr United Church
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”
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”
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Who is In??? Philippians 1:3-10, Acts 15:4-11 Glen Ayr United Church Second Sunday of Advent December 6, 2009
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
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
Saturday, November 28, 2009
“Moved by the Spirit” A sermon based on Acts 16:12-15 November 29, 2009 Advent 1 Glen Ayr United Church
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.
*****************************************************************************
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.
*****************************************************************************
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.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
The End of All Things???? or the Beginning??? Acts 2:1-41 November 15, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
“Food for the World” October 18, 2009 World Food Day Matthew 5:3-12, Luke 6:20-26
“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.
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.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
A Life of Gratitude Mark 10:17-31 October 11, 2009 Thanksgiving Sunday
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.
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.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Bread and Roses Hebrews 2:6-12 Sunday October 4, 2009 World Wide Communion Glen Ayr United Church
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.
*****************************************************************
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.
*****************************************************************
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.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Wisdom and Courage? September 27, 2009 Esther 7:1-10, 9:20-23 Glen Ayr United Church
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.
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.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
The Perfect Woman, or Something Else Proverbs 31:10-31 September 20, 2009
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.
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.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Who Is Jesus for You? Mark 8:31-38 September 13, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church
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”.
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”.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Crossing Boundaries Mark 7:24-37 September 6, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church
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.
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.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
“A Song of Love” Song of Solomon 2:8-13 (14-17) August 30, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church
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.
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.
Friday, August 21, 2009
To Whom Can We Go? John 6:56-69 August 23, 2009 Glen Ayr United Church
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.
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.
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