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.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
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.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Wisdom Calls Proverbs 9:1-6, Ephesians 5:15-20 August 16, 2009
“Wisdom has built her house, she has cut the seven pillars. She has slaughtered the animals, she has mixed the wine, she has also set her table. She has sent out her servant-girls, she calls from the highest places around the town “You that are poor, come in here! To those with no sense she says “Come, eat my bread, drink my wine. Lay aside immaturity, and live and walk in the way of insight.”
Since Proverbs wasn’t listed in the bulletin as one of today’s readings, you probably wonder why I decided to throw this in. Hmmm, well - Ephesians talks about living wisely - but in a boring and constrained sort of way. The Ephesians passage, on the surface, probably has been one of those used to convince Christians that anything which smacked of having fun was a no-no. The John passage is another of Jesus’ references to the bread of life, and it’s the third or fourth this month. Proverbs doesn’t usually get preached - but in fact, it reminded me of the parable of the banquet in the Gospels.
Back in the fall, Norio and I received a call, late on a Saturday afternoon, from friends in the west end. Would we like to come and join them in the local street festival, and then go for some dinner? It meant putting aside everything, leaving a sermon half-finished, in order to join them. It would have been easy to say no, I have too much to do, Saturday nights aren’t good. That’s what I usually say to invitations for Saturdays. But we hadn’t seen our friends for a long time, and the evening sounded like it would be fun. So we went. All the way there, I kept wondering if it would have been better to refuse, to spend more time on the sermon, to beg off. Was it a wise thing to do? I don't know - but had I not gone it would have been a missed opportunity for something important.
The Book of Proverbs is a collection of sayings, speeches, lectures which were accumulated over time. They were shaped by the wise leaders in the court, and the temple of Israel an early Judaism. Wisdom is personified as a woman, the spirit which was beside God at the beginning of creation, the feminine principle, the breath of God.
In the time of Jesus, there was a group of religious ascetics called Gnostics. In general to be a gnostic means to make a claim to an esoteric knowledge that no-one else has. If you wander into Chapters, you can find a self-help book purporting to be knowledge no one else has. It is a kind of modern-day gnosticism, in that each of the self-help gurus purports to have a knowledge no one else has. To the ancient Gnostics, wisdom was something they had access to because of their esoteric knowledge. Ordinary people didn’t.
In this selection from Proverbs, Wisdom prepares a banquet and goes into the town calling to the poor and the simple to come to the table. I think this is the important part, and draws the parallel to the Gospel. Virtually everything Jesus taught had its roots in Hebrew scripture, and he would likely have been familiar with this passage, so to tell the banquet story would draw on this scripture. In fact it is totally contrary to both the Gnostic understanding of wisdom, and the temple understanding. The passage from Proverbs is telling us that wisdom is a free and fabulous banquet, equally generous to all. The table is set, and the banquet is there.
The Proverbs text gives us a great feast set in the house of Wisdom. The slaughtering of animals for the feast is directly connected to the traditions of Israel. Wine is “mixed”, perhaps a product of different fruits, maybe the fruits of the spirit. Everyone is invited to come. Wisdom offers a pattern for living.
There is a pretty clear message in this passage. Each of us is given the opportunity to live a blessed and fulfilled life. It says that it is God’s intent for the human race. Here, in this passage, Lady Wisdom offers wine and a banquet for enjoying. It is reminiscent of the story of the wedding at Cana, when Jesus’ mother is portrayed as a wise woman - in some ways wiser than Jesus.
There is another message in this passage. Too often we do make excuses for not participating in the banquet. For the gathered church community, it says to us that we have to ask if we live out a mature faith, if we are answering the call fully, what kind of future do we envision and what choices will we make. As we come to the end of summer, it is a kind of fallow period where we can do some reflection and assessment, as individuals and as congregations. Miriam Therese Winter wrote a song “I Cannot Come”. It refers to the wedding banquet story, but I think it fits here too.
I CANNOT COME.
A certain man held a feast on his fine estate in town,
he laid a festive table and wore a wedding gown.
He sent invitations to his neighbours far and wide.
But when the meal was ready, each of them replied:
I cannot come, I cannot come to the banquet, don't trouble me now
I have married a wife, I have bought me a cow,
I have fields and commitments that cost a pretty sum
Pray, hold me excused, I cannot come!
So, my question to you today is, what are we going to do as we go forward into the next church year?
Sources:
1. Material from essays by Thomas R. Steagald, and Susan Vande Kappelle in the book “Feasting on the Word”, Year B Volume 3. Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds.
2. The Wedding Banquet, by Miriam Therese Winter. In the collection “Joy is Like the Rain”. C. Medical Mission Sisters 1966.
Since Proverbs wasn’t listed in the bulletin as one of today’s readings, you probably wonder why I decided to throw this in. Hmmm, well - Ephesians talks about living wisely - but in a boring and constrained sort of way. The Ephesians passage, on the surface, probably has been one of those used to convince Christians that anything which smacked of having fun was a no-no. The John passage is another of Jesus’ references to the bread of life, and it’s the third or fourth this month. Proverbs doesn’t usually get preached - but in fact, it reminded me of the parable of the banquet in the Gospels.
Back in the fall, Norio and I received a call, late on a Saturday afternoon, from friends in the west end. Would we like to come and join them in the local street festival, and then go for some dinner? It meant putting aside everything, leaving a sermon half-finished, in order to join them. It would have been easy to say no, I have too much to do, Saturday nights aren’t good. That’s what I usually say to invitations for Saturdays. But we hadn’t seen our friends for a long time, and the evening sounded like it would be fun. So we went. All the way there, I kept wondering if it would have been better to refuse, to spend more time on the sermon, to beg off. Was it a wise thing to do? I don't know - but had I not gone it would have been a missed opportunity for something important.
The Book of Proverbs is a collection of sayings, speeches, lectures which were accumulated over time. They were shaped by the wise leaders in the court, and the temple of Israel an early Judaism. Wisdom is personified as a woman, the spirit which was beside God at the beginning of creation, the feminine principle, the breath of God.
In the time of Jesus, there was a group of religious ascetics called Gnostics. In general to be a gnostic means to make a claim to an esoteric knowledge that no-one else has. If you wander into Chapters, you can find a self-help book purporting to be knowledge no one else has. It is a kind of modern-day gnosticism, in that each of the self-help gurus purports to have a knowledge no one else has. To the ancient Gnostics, wisdom was something they had access to because of their esoteric knowledge. Ordinary people didn’t.
In this selection from Proverbs, Wisdom prepares a banquet and goes into the town calling to the poor and the simple to come to the table. I think this is the important part, and draws the parallel to the Gospel. Virtually everything Jesus taught had its roots in Hebrew scripture, and he would likely have been familiar with this passage, so to tell the banquet story would draw on this scripture. In fact it is totally contrary to both the Gnostic understanding of wisdom, and the temple understanding. The passage from Proverbs is telling us that wisdom is a free and fabulous banquet, equally generous to all. The table is set, and the banquet is there.
The Proverbs text gives us a great feast set in the house of Wisdom. The slaughtering of animals for the feast is directly connected to the traditions of Israel. Wine is “mixed”, perhaps a product of different fruits, maybe the fruits of the spirit. Everyone is invited to come. Wisdom offers a pattern for living.
There is a pretty clear message in this passage. Each of us is given the opportunity to live a blessed and fulfilled life. It says that it is God’s intent for the human race. Here, in this passage, Lady Wisdom offers wine and a banquet for enjoying. It is reminiscent of the story of the wedding at Cana, when Jesus’ mother is portrayed as a wise woman - in some ways wiser than Jesus.
There is another message in this passage. Too often we do make excuses for not participating in the banquet. For the gathered church community, it says to us that we have to ask if we live out a mature faith, if we are answering the call fully, what kind of future do we envision and what choices will we make. As we come to the end of summer, it is a kind of fallow period where we can do some reflection and assessment, as individuals and as congregations. Miriam Therese Winter wrote a song “I Cannot Come”. It refers to the wedding banquet story, but I think it fits here too.
I CANNOT COME.
A certain man held a feast on his fine estate in town,
he laid a festive table and wore a wedding gown.
He sent invitations to his neighbours far and wide.
But when the meal was ready, each of them replied:
I cannot come, I cannot come to the banquet, don't trouble me now
I have married a wife, I have bought me a cow,
I have fields and commitments that cost a pretty sum
Pray, hold me excused, I cannot come!
So, my question to you today is, what are we going to do as we go forward into the next church year?
Sources:
1. Material from essays by Thomas R. Steagald, and Susan Vande Kappelle in the book “Feasting on the Word”, Year B Volume 3. Westminster John Knox Press, 2009. David L. Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds.
2. The Wedding Banquet, by Miriam Therese Winter. In the collection “Joy is Like the Rain”. C. Medical Mission Sisters 1966.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Bread and Water August 2, 2009 Exodus 16:2-4, 9-15, John 6:24-35
Let me introduce you to Louise and Phil Decker. Louise and Phil are the caretakers of the Gros Morne National Park campgrounds in Newfoundland. Every morning, Louise is up at 6, and goes to every campground and rest area to clean the washrooms. Phil goes around and empties all the garbage cans. Then they both sit down and sort the garbage, taking out things people toss like batteries, and separating out the recycling. Phil is a retired fisherman, who still goes back to sea on a seasonal basis, and brings in enough for them to eat over the winter. Louise, of her own volition, has begun teaching a course to children in the campgrounds, about the native plants and animals of Newfoundland, the lives of those who fish for a living, and teaches the kids how to make certain kinds of local food. In the early spring, Louise cleans every camp site, making sure the fire pits are cleared, cutting the weeds down, sanding and painting the picnic tables. The day we sat with them, Louise had just finished a class with 39 kids. They own a tiny house, really a hut, on the property at Broom Point. Parks Canada wants to make the whole point a historical site, so they offered to buy Louise and Phil’s property, for $3000 - and told them they could move the house off if they wished.
Let me tell you a little about the house. Like many people, this house has been in the family for several generations. It was not originally a year-round living accommodation, but was there for families to live in during the fishing season. Fishing families would come to the point every year, when their fishing permits allowed, in order to work. They processed, dried, and canned the fish right on the premises. The salt fish, and the canned salmon, was picked up by larger boats which took it to market. This year, Phil and Louise made 50c a pound on their lobster catch. Next time you buy lobster in the supermarket, look at the price.
Norio and I sat with them in our campsite this July, over a glass of wine, and talked about life in Newfoundland. Needless to say we were impressed with the passion and the optimism of these two people.
Louise is a tiny woman, but don’t be fooled. She is a formidable presence, and passionate about her life. Get her talking about how the Canadian government is killing off the fisheries - and the lives of many people - by selling out to large corporations. Louise is smart, savvy, and hard-working. So is Phil. They love life, and despite their criticisms of the way things are done, and what is done to them, they have a solid faith that what they DO have is given to them, by God, to use well. They don’t have much, but if you asked them I am guessing they would say they have enough.
I am telling this story because Louise and Phil epitomise for me what it means to be on a life journey. There have been times when these two were in a wilderness. Yet they survived, and grew, even if all they had was bread and water.
In todays first reading, we meet the Israelites, newly freed, and looking forward to going to the land they have been promised. In the first throes of real freedom, they were happy to be anywhere but Egypt, and they sang and danced their joy! Then, of course, as the days went on reality set in. The small stocks of food they had brought along were gone, and there was little if anything to eat in the wilderness. There was no wildlife, no large body of water, no edible plant life. The people became hungry and thirsty; the manna they were receiving didn’t last long, and water from a rock was hardly sufficient. Bread, and water: that was their diet in the wilderness. It began to feel like they were in prison again.
Eventually, of course, they complained about what God had provided, and complained against
Moses. They wanted to go back to Egypt, where they were slaves but had good food. God set them free from one kind of oppression just to kill them off in the desert? If they were going to die anyway, better to do it back in Egypt where at least they could do it in relative comfort. They wanted more: more food, more water, more variety in their diet. More.
They sound like us, don’t they? Like those ancient Israelites, we want /more. /We want more variety, more choices. So we can now order our fish deep-fried, broiled, baked, grilled, or blackened. We want to be able to eat all kinds of foods whenever we want it.
Norio and I have an ongoing discussion - I won’t call it argument - about food when he is in Cuba. After five weeks, he doesn’t want to eat rice and peas any more. He can’t find Japanese noodles. There is some variety in the food but not what he gets here in Toronto, where we can eat anything we want any time. My comment is that the Cubans have to eat that every day.
And that is where Louise and Phil come in. They don’t have the luxury of Japanese or Chinese or Korean or Thai or Greek or Italian, or whatever. Their diet is mainly fish; given all the wild berries we picked around the island, and the people we met picking them, that probably they get a lot of their fruit that way. And yet they are satisfied, and they are happy people.
John’s Gospel this week begins with the story of the feeding of a large crowd of people with five loaves of barley bread and two fish. The crowd is dazzled! They want him Jesus to feed them anytime, anywhere, as much as they want. But Jesus eludes them, refusing to be known simply as the one who gives them all they want on demand.
Yes, I can offer you bread, he says, but what you are looking for is bread and water to satisfy your soul as well as your body. God gives true bread, the bread of life. In me you see God, and you see the bread and water which will satisfy.
It’s no accident that bread and grains are at the top of the food pyramid; they provide
great nourishment. Bread of the right kind can be packed and carried on long treks. We need bread, and we need water, to be well and healthy.
We are invited in these stories to trust in the God who feeds us what we need to live, and calls us to gratitude for life. When we eat the bread of life, when we drink the living water God offers, we can thrive, and be satisfied. That’s why Louise and Phil impressed me so much. From our point of view, they probably have nothing. Life is a struggle, every single day, to make enough to live on. And yet, they are satisfied, and they have enough. Bread, water, and fish - the three things Jesus used to demonstrate what really matters in life. May it be so.
Acknowledgements:
1. Louise and Phil Decker, Gros Morne National Park
2. Material from the sermon “Thriving on Bread and Water” by Randy Thompson.
Let me tell you a little about the house. Like many people, this house has been in the family for several generations. It was not originally a year-round living accommodation, but was there for families to live in during the fishing season. Fishing families would come to the point every year, when their fishing permits allowed, in order to work. They processed, dried, and canned the fish right on the premises. The salt fish, and the canned salmon, was picked up by larger boats which took it to market. This year, Phil and Louise made 50c a pound on their lobster catch. Next time you buy lobster in the supermarket, look at the price.
Norio and I sat with them in our campsite this July, over a glass of wine, and talked about life in Newfoundland. Needless to say we were impressed with the passion and the optimism of these two people.
Louise is a tiny woman, but don’t be fooled. She is a formidable presence, and passionate about her life. Get her talking about how the Canadian government is killing off the fisheries - and the lives of many people - by selling out to large corporations. Louise is smart, savvy, and hard-working. So is Phil. They love life, and despite their criticisms of the way things are done, and what is done to them, they have a solid faith that what they DO have is given to them, by God, to use well. They don’t have much, but if you asked them I am guessing they would say they have enough.
I am telling this story because Louise and Phil epitomise for me what it means to be on a life journey. There have been times when these two were in a wilderness. Yet they survived, and grew, even if all they had was bread and water.
In todays first reading, we meet the Israelites, newly freed, and looking forward to going to the land they have been promised. In the first throes of real freedom, they were happy to be anywhere but Egypt, and they sang and danced their joy! Then, of course, as the days went on reality set in. The small stocks of food they had brought along were gone, and there was little if anything to eat in the wilderness. There was no wildlife, no large body of water, no edible plant life. The people became hungry and thirsty; the manna they were receiving didn’t last long, and water from a rock was hardly sufficient. Bread, and water: that was their diet in the wilderness. It began to feel like they were in prison again.
Eventually, of course, they complained about what God had provided, and complained against
Moses. They wanted to go back to Egypt, where they were slaves but had good food. God set them free from one kind of oppression just to kill them off in the desert? If they were going to die anyway, better to do it back in Egypt where at least they could do it in relative comfort. They wanted more: more food, more water, more variety in their diet. More.
They sound like us, don’t they? Like those ancient Israelites, we want /more. /We want more variety, more choices. So we can now order our fish deep-fried, broiled, baked, grilled, or blackened. We want to be able to eat all kinds of foods whenever we want it.
Norio and I have an ongoing discussion - I won’t call it argument - about food when he is in Cuba. After five weeks, he doesn’t want to eat rice and peas any more. He can’t find Japanese noodles. There is some variety in the food but not what he gets here in Toronto, where we can eat anything we want any time. My comment is that the Cubans have to eat that every day.
And that is where Louise and Phil come in. They don’t have the luxury of Japanese or Chinese or Korean or Thai or Greek or Italian, or whatever. Their diet is mainly fish; given all the wild berries we picked around the island, and the people we met picking them, that probably they get a lot of their fruit that way. And yet they are satisfied, and they are happy people.
John’s Gospel this week begins with the story of the feeding of a large crowd of people with five loaves of barley bread and two fish. The crowd is dazzled! They want him Jesus to feed them anytime, anywhere, as much as they want. But Jesus eludes them, refusing to be known simply as the one who gives them all they want on demand.
Yes, I can offer you bread, he says, but what you are looking for is bread and water to satisfy your soul as well as your body. God gives true bread, the bread of life. In me you see God, and you see the bread and water which will satisfy.
It’s no accident that bread and grains are at the top of the food pyramid; they provide
great nourishment. Bread of the right kind can be packed and carried on long treks. We need bread, and we need water, to be well and healthy.
We are invited in these stories to trust in the God who feeds us what we need to live, and calls us to gratitude for life. When we eat the bread of life, when we drink the living water God offers, we can thrive, and be satisfied. That’s why Louise and Phil impressed me so much. From our point of view, they probably have nothing. Life is a struggle, every single day, to make enough to live on. And yet, they are satisfied, and they have enough. Bread, water, and fish - the three things Jesus used to demonstrate what really matters in life. May it be so.
Acknowledgements:
1. Louise and Phil Decker, Gros Morne National Park
2. Material from the sermon “Thriving on Bread and Water” by Randy Thompson.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Waking a Sleeping Jesus Mark 4:35-41
The legend lives on from the Chippewa down,
of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee."
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty,
that good ship and true was a bone to be chewed when the "Gales of November" came early.
Does any one know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
if they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
they may have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
of the wives and the sons and the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
in the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
the islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
with the Gales of November remembered.
Some of the words of Gordon Lightfoot’s famous song, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”. (1) In November 1975 the ore carrier Edmund Fitzgerald sank during a gale on Lake Superior, with all 29 crew on board. There were no clues to why the ship sank, and no distress calls recorded. It was the worst loss in Great Lakes shipping history.
Lake Erie is the shallowest of the Great Lakes, at a depth of just 200 feet. It is easily stirred up by west winds to produce violent waves and even the largest boats are put at risk.
“Ships caught on the Great Lakes during such fierce storms can be tossed like toys in the fury of wind and wave. As early as 1835, a November storm "swept the lakes clear of sail." In 1847, a major storm claimed 77 ships on the Great Lakes. Ten years later, 65 vessels went down as a storm crossed the Lakes. A gale on Lake Superior in 1905 wrecked 111 ships and sent 14 steel carriers ashore. In 1958 and 1975, powerful storms also caused shipwrecks and damage over the Great Lakes.” (2)
Jesus' disciples were not ocean-faring sailors, not even sailors on the Great Lakes, but they were experienced fishermen. They had been through storms before. But the story in Mark says “ A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped.” Luke describes the wind and raging waves during this storm. Matthew calls it a furious storm without warning. Perhaps this was something they had never seen before.
I did a little reading on storms on the Sea of Galilee, which is really a lake. The storms are a result of different temperatures between the seacoast and the mountains. The Sea of Galilee lies 680 feet below sea level. It is bounded by hills, especially on the east side where they reach 2000 feet high. These heights are a source of cool, dry air. In contrast, directly around the sea, the climate is semi-tropical with warm, moist air. The large difference in height between surrounding land and the sea causes large temperature and pressure changes. This results in strong winds dropping to the sea, funnelling through the hills. The Sea of Galilee is small, and these winds may descend directly to the center of the lake with violent results. When the contrasting air masses meet, a storm can arise quickly and without warning. Small boats caught out on the sea are in immediate danger. The Sea of Galilee is relatively shallow, just 200 feet at its greatest depth. A shallow lake is “whipped up” by wind more rapidly than deep water, where energy is more readily absorbed. (3)
So there they are, out on the Sea of Galilee, in a boat, at night. Now, this isn’t strange at all. There are other incidents where we are told they are fishing at night. In Japan, and probably elsewhere, the squid boats go out at night and long after dark there are little lights bobbing up and down on the water. Mark’s narrative also tells us there are other boats with them. Jesus has asked them to go right across the lake to the other side. As they sail, he is snoozing gently in the hold when the storm comes up. He seems to be completely oblivious to the raging wind and waves, and the fear around him. When they finally waken him, he is cranky with them. He asks if they have no faith.
Well, what would be your reaction? Wouldn’t you be flashing around bailing like crazy, trying to get the sails in, if they were up? If a wave is taller than a boat is long, the boat is going to go down. Maybe they were not of such "little faith" as all that. Maybe they were frantically using all their skills and couldn't believe that Jesus didn't wake up, and maybe they thought if he was sleeping through it, he was going to let the storm overtake them and swamp the boat. Maybe they thought he should get off his holy backside, and row. Maybe they were no more afraid than they ever were at such moments - maybe it was an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, and they expected Jesus to pitch in, not nap while they were doing everything. As for the other boats, presumably they were also dealing with the storm -- so if they had sunk, there would not be much help for a rescue there.
Gordon Lightfoot’s song says “Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours?” I wonder. In the storm they experienced, the minutes became hours. Jesus had asked them to go all the way to the other side, something they normally didn’t do. There they were in the middle of something bigger than their experience, and Jesus appeared to be asleep.
Is this a story of trusting Jesus in the usual storms of our personal lives, or is Mark here talking about storms that are particular to those who follow Jesus on a journey to an unknown place -- struggling against injustice, confronting evil, crossing boundaries and borders to seek healing, reaching out to the rejected of society, embarking on new ways of being in a confusing world where nothing is the way it was?
Rev. Jane Baker says “My congregation is in the midst of changes within itself, within the community, and our annual conference. Our responses to these changes we face as a result of the Spirit's leading is how we respond to the chaos and storms change always brings about. Not only that, it is a story about how we trust the Spirit's leading.”
I think this passage has long been used for personal reasons, not that there is anything wrong with this, but the interpretation doesn't get to the idea of the church itself and what may occur as we follow Jesus. I do see it about the church and its faith and trust, with Jesus in the boat with us.
“Does anyone know where the love of God goes.....?” In the real seafaring world, even when the ship goes down with all hands, God’s love is there - weeping into the storm. In the parable storms, which are meant to teach us about living in an emergent church - which are meant to teach us about sailing through unknown experiences - the love of God is there. With trust that God is there with us, and that with that presence we too have the power to still the waves and the winds, and get to the other side.
The great American preacher, Harry Emerson Fosdick, was a Baptist minister who went on to the inter-denominational Riverside Cathedral in New York. Here is a quote of his, "Fear and Faith"
Fear imprisons, faith liberates;
Fear paralyzes, faith empowers;
Fear disheartens, faith encourages;
Fear sickens, faith heals;
Fear makes useless, faith makes serviceable;
And, most of all, fear puts hopelessness at the heart of all,
While faith rejoices in its God." (4)
1. “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”, Gordon Lightfoot, 1975.
2. http://www.islandnet.com/~see/weather/almanac/arc_1998/98nov01.htm
3. Dr. Donald B. DeYoung of Creation Research Society. Copyright © 1992, 2003, Donald B. DeYoung, in “Weather & the Bible”, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1992).
4. http://www.famousquotesandauthors.com/topics/faith_and_fear_quotes.html
5. Input and ideas from many friends on the Midrash list - Rev. Brian Donst, Rev. Christina Berry, Rev. Jane Baker.
of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee."
The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead
when the skies of November turn gloomy.
With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty,
that good ship and true was a bone to be chewed when the "Gales of November" came early.
Does any one know where the love of God goes
when the waves turn the minutes to hours?
The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay
if they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er.
They might have split up or they might have capsized;
they may have broke deep and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
of the wives and the sons and the daughters.
Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
in the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams;
the islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the iron boats go as the mariners all know
with the Gales of November remembered.
Some of the words of Gordon Lightfoot’s famous song, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”. (1) In November 1975 the ore carrier Edmund Fitzgerald sank during a gale on Lake Superior, with all 29 crew on board. There were no clues to why the ship sank, and no distress calls recorded. It was the worst loss in Great Lakes shipping history.
Lake Erie is the shallowest of the Great Lakes, at a depth of just 200 feet. It is easily stirred up by west winds to produce violent waves and even the largest boats are put at risk.
“Ships caught on the Great Lakes during such fierce storms can be tossed like toys in the fury of wind and wave. As early as 1835, a November storm "swept the lakes clear of sail." In 1847, a major storm claimed 77 ships on the Great Lakes. Ten years later, 65 vessels went down as a storm crossed the Lakes. A gale on Lake Superior in 1905 wrecked 111 ships and sent 14 steel carriers ashore. In 1958 and 1975, powerful storms also caused shipwrecks and damage over the Great Lakes.” (2)
Jesus' disciples were not ocean-faring sailors, not even sailors on the Great Lakes, but they were experienced fishermen. They had been through storms before. But the story in Mark says “ A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped.” Luke describes the wind and raging waves during this storm. Matthew calls it a furious storm without warning. Perhaps this was something they had never seen before.
I did a little reading on storms on the Sea of Galilee, which is really a lake. The storms are a result of different temperatures between the seacoast and the mountains. The Sea of Galilee lies 680 feet below sea level. It is bounded by hills, especially on the east side where they reach 2000 feet high. These heights are a source of cool, dry air. In contrast, directly around the sea, the climate is semi-tropical with warm, moist air. The large difference in height between surrounding land and the sea causes large temperature and pressure changes. This results in strong winds dropping to the sea, funnelling through the hills. The Sea of Galilee is small, and these winds may descend directly to the center of the lake with violent results. When the contrasting air masses meet, a storm can arise quickly and without warning. Small boats caught out on the sea are in immediate danger. The Sea of Galilee is relatively shallow, just 200 feet at its greatest depth. A shallow lake is “whipped up” by wind more rapidly than deep water, where energy is more readily absorbed. (3)
So there they are, out on the Sea of Galilee, in a boat, at night. Now, this isn’t strange at all. There are other incidents where we are told they are fishing at night. In Japan, and probably elsewhere, the squid boats go out at night and long after dark there are little lights bobbing up and down on the water. Mark’s narrative also tells us there are other boats with them. Jesus has asked them to go right across the lake to the other side. As they sail, he is snoozing gently in the hold when the storm comes up. He seems to be completely oblivious to the raging wind and waves, and the fear around him. When they finally waken him, he is cranky with them. He asks if they have no faith.
Well, what would be your reaction? Wouldn’t you be flashing around bailing like crazy, trying to get the sails in, if they were up? If a wave is taller than a boat is long, the boat is going to go down. Maybe they were not of such "little faith" as all that. Maybe they were frantically using all their skills and couldn't believe that Jesus didn't wake up, and maybe they thought if he was sleeping through it, he was going to let the storm overtake them and swamp the boat. Maybe they thought he should get off his holy backside, and row. Maybe they were no more afraid than they ever were at such moments - maybe it was an “all hands on deck” kind of situation, and they expected Jesus to pitch in, not nap while they were doing everything. As for the other boats, presumably they were also dealing with the storm -- so if they had sunk, there would not be much help for a rescue there.
Gordon Lightfoot’s song says “Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours?” I wonder. In the storm they experienced, the minutes became hours. Jesus had asked them to go all the way to the other side, something they normally didn’t do. There they were in the middle of something bigger than their experience, and Jesus appeared to be asleep.
Is this a story of trusting Jesus in the usual storms of our personal lives, or is Mark here talking about storms that are particular to those who follow Jesus on a journey to an unknown place -- struggling against injustice, confronting evil, crossing boundaries and borders to seek healing, reaching out to the rejected of society, embarking on new ways of being in a confusing world where nothing is the way it was?
Rev. Jane Baker says “My congregation is in the midst of changes within itself, within the community, and our annual conference. Our responses to these changes we face as a result of the Spirit's leading is how we respond to the chaos and storms change always brings about. Not only that, it is a story about how we trust the Spirit's leading.”
I think this passage has long been used for personal reasons, not that there is anything wrong with this, but the interpretation doesn't get to the idea of the church itself and what may occur as we follow Jesus. I do see it about the church and its faith and trust, with Jesus in the boat with us.
“Does anyone know where the love of God goes.....?” In the real seafaring world, even when the ship goes down with all hands, God’s love is there - weeping into the storm. In the parable storms, which are meant to teach us about living in an emergent church - which are meant to teach us about sailing through unknown experiences - the love of God is there. With trust that God is there with us, and that with that presence we too have the power to still the waves and the winds, and get to the other side.
The great American preacher, Harry Emerson Fosdick, was a Baptist minister who went on to the inter-denominational Riverside Cathedral in New York. Here is a quote of his, "Fear and Faith"
Fear imprisons, faith liberates;
Fear paralyzes, faith empowers;
Fear disheartens, faith encourages;
Fear sickens, faith heals;
Fear makes useless, faith makes serviceable;
And, most of all, fear puts hopelessness at the heart of all,
While faith rejoices in its God." (4)
1. “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”, Gordon Lightfoot, 1975.
2. http://www.islandnet.com/~see/weather/almanac/arc_1998/98nov01.htm
3. Dr. Donald B. DeYoung of Creation Research Society. Copyright © 1992, 2003, Donald B. DeYoung, in “Weather & the Bible”, (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1992).
4. http://www.famousquotesandauthors.com/topics/faith_and_fear_quotes.html
5. Input and ideas from many friends on the Midrash list - Rev. Brian Donst, Rev. Christina Berry, Rev. Jane Baker.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Planting Seeds Mark 4:1-9 June 14, 2009
Once again Jesus began teaching by the lakeshore. A very large crowd soon gathered around him, so he got into a boat. Then he sat in the boat while all the people remained on the shore. He taught them by telling many stories in the form of parables, such as this one:
“Listen! A farmer went out to plant some seed. As he scattered it across his field, some of the seed fell on a footpath, and the birds came and ate it. Other seed fell on shallow soil with underlying rock. The seed sprouted quickly because the soil was shallow. But the plant soon wilted under the hot sun, and since it didn’t have deep roots, it died. Other seed fell among thorns that grew up and choked out the tender plants so they produced no grain. Still other seeds fell on fertile soil, and they sprouted, grew, and produced a crop that was thirty, sixty, and even a hundred times as much as had been planted!” Then he said, “Anyone with ears to hear should listen and understand.”
Facebook - the new Internet location for sharing photos, talking, whatever - with friends and family - and whoever else you want. Before you laugh, some serious people have a page on Facebook. Diana Butler Bass has a page on Facebook. Justin Trudeau has a page. Medecins Sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders), Cancer Foundations, Habitat, Peace Preschool in Israel all have pages. Some of your local MPs have a page, some people right here have - and yes I do too - so do most of my ministry colleagues, many friends, people I’ve met in many places - cruises, conferences both religious and academic.
Farm Town is an interactive game on Facebook. It’s kind of a virtual farm where you plough the ground, plant seeds, and wait for them to grow. When they are ready to be harvested, you can either do that yourself, or get someone else to do it for you. If you get someone else, both people make more coins and benefit..
One of the things you can do is connect with other people who become your neighbours. You can then visit their farm to weed and tend, and as you help other neighbours, you get more points and advance in the game.
Yes, I play Farm Town. But as I’ve been playing, I’ve noticed a few things. The “farm” is whatever we make of it - and as you visit other farms, you get a great sense of the imagination - as well as the personality - of the owner. It is a co-operative game; yes, you can advance in the game without relying on anyone else; but when you cooperate with others, both people advance faster. There are protocols for playing, and rudeness is largely not tolerated. Every person has a story. It is a creative imagination game - and even the simple act of ploughing, planting, and then waiting for those little seeds to come up - is quite relaxing and soothing.
We have a saying in the church that all the world is God’s farm. And I think that is what sticks with me. There is a little key on the game that you can zoom out, so you can see the whole of the farm - and all around you are your neighbours. In a sense, you can look at the whole of creation as a big picture, with people from everywhere - a kind of global village on the internet. And what is fascinating is that even as you sleep - just as in a real farm - those little crops keep coming up and maturing - and for those of us who don’t write computer languages, it’s a mystery how it all happens.
Well, I don’t just go in and go out. I like to “talk” to the people there. Let me tell you about a young woman living in Abu Dhabi where her husband works; a young man in Yorkshire who has a pet snake; a nurse in Norway on the night shift, on her break: a wonderful woman from Hawaii, with whom I had a long conversation one night, about the lives of indigenous peoples and the damage done to creation.
I chose to use the parable of planting seeds today, to move us to our discussion of our ministries and life in Glen Ayr. Parables were teaching tools, a way of making a point in story form. Jesus taught almost always in parables - so here he tells them about a farmer who goes out plant, and scatters the seed. Then he goes on to tell them about different kinds of soil, how the seed grows depending on where it lands, and if it’s productive or not. Some of the seed fell on poor soil some fell on rocky ground, and some fell into good soil.
A congregation is a little like a farm - the word is scattered to us like seed - and depending on where it falls, it takes root and begins the metamorphosis. Ploughing, planting and growing are critical to the life of the farm. You don’t come here, and suddenly get it all. Faith is not something which happens once, and never has to be cultivated again. Jesus addresses that directly - some of the seed gets wasted, but some does take hold and grow.
Rev. Christina Berry says “Here’s the thing. The church can’t save itself up for its retirement. The resources we have weren’t given to us so we could quit growing and working. The realm of God is about a new creation, sweeping away old ideas, and putting in their place another way of being.”
Following Jesus means expecting new and amazing things to develop from tiny inauspicious beginnings - like an apple seed. Believing in this means that God plants little seeds, and while we are not looking the whole thing changes. In another way of saying the seed fell on different kinds of soil, the writer reports that as Jesus taught “He spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it.” This is Jesus, grinning from ear to ear and jabbing us in the ribs with his elbow, and telling us to hang on for dear life, because life is about to take us places....”
One of the things I love about my little farm, like my garden, is that it’s never finished. It’s a work in progress all the time. The realm of God, I believe, is like that. It is a work in progress. We don’t know where we are going to be taken, but we know that standing still isn’t an option. The One who plants us, who calls us to grow, who harvests and calls others to share in the harvest, has some big plans. Thanks be to God.
1. Rev. Christina Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, Illinois - from the sermon “Hold the Mustard”..
“Listen! A farmer went out to plant some seed. As he scattered it across his field, some of the seed fell on a footpath, and the birds came and ate it. Other seed fell on shallow soil with underlying rock. The seed sprouted quickly because the soil was shallow. But the plant soon wilted under the hot sun, and since it didn’t have deep roots, it died. Other seed fell among thorns that grew up and choked out the tender plants so they produced no grain. Still other seeds fell on fertile soil, and they sprouted, grew, and produced a crop that was thirty, sixty, and even a hundred times as much as had been planted!” Then he said, “Anyone with ears to hear should listen and understand.”
Facebook - the new Internet location for sharing photos, talking, whatever - with friends and family - and whoever else you want. Before you laugh, some serious people have a page on Facebook. Diana Butler Bass has a page on Facebook. Justin Trudeau has a page. Medecins Sans Frontieres (Doctors Without Borders), Cancer Foundations, Habitat, Peace Preschool in Israel all have pages. Some of your local MPs have a page, some people right here have - and yes I do too - so do most of my ministry colleagues, many friends, people I’ve met in many places - cruises, conferences both religious and academic.
Farm Town is an interactive game on Facebook. It’s kind of a virtual farm where you plough the ground, plant seeds, and wait for them to grow. When they are ready to be harvested, you can either do that yourself, or get someone else to do it for you. If you get someone else, both people make more coins and benefit..
One of the things you can do is connect with other people who become your neighbours. You can then visit their farm to weed and tend, and as you help other neighbours, you get more points and advance in the game.
Yes, I play Farm Town. But as I’ve been playing, I’ve noticed a few things. The “farm” is whatever we make of it - and as you visit other farms, you get a great sense of the imagination - as well as the personality - of the owner. It is a co-operative game; yes, you can advance in the game without relying on anyone else; but when you cooperate with others, both people advance faster. There are protocols for playing, and rudeness is largely not tolerated. Every person has a story. It is a creative imagination game - and even the simple act of ploughing, planting, and then waiting for those little seeds to come up - is quite relaxing and soothing.
We have a saying in the church that all the world is God’s farm. And I think that is what sticks with me. There is a little key on the game that you can zoom out, so you can see the whole of the farm - and all around you are your neighbours. In a sense, you can look at the whole of creation as a big picture, with people from everywhere - a kind of global village on the internet. And what is fascinating is that even as you sleep - just as in a real farm - those little crops keep coming up and maturing - and for those of us who don’t write computer languages, it’s a mystery how it all happens.
Well, I don’t just go in and go out. I like to “talk” to the people there. Let me tell you about a young woman living in Abu Dhabi where her husband works; a young man in Yorkshire who has a pet snake; a nurse in Norway on the night shift, on her break: a wonderful woman from Hawaii, with whom I had a long conversation one night, about the lives of indigenous peoples and the damage done to creation.
I chose to use the parable of planting seeds today, to move us to our discussion of our ministries and life in Glen Ayr. Parables were teaching tools, a way of making a point in story form. Jesus taught almost always in parables - so here he tells them about a farmer who goes out plant, and scatters the seed. Then he goes on to tell them about different kinds of soil, how the seed grows depending on where it lands, and if it’s productive or not. Some of the seed fell on poor soil some fell on rocky ground, and some fell into good soil.
A congregation is a little like a farm - the word is scattered to us like seed - and depending on where it falls, it takes root and begins the metamorphosis. Ploughing, planting and growing are critical to the life of the farm. You don’t come here, and suddenly get it all. Faith is not something which happens once, and never has to be cultivated again. Jesus addresses that directly - some of the seed gets wasted, but some does take hold and grow.
Rev. Christina Berry says “Here’s the thing. The church can’t save itself up for its retirement. The resources we have weren’t given to us so we could quit growing and working. The realm of God is about a new creation, sweeping away old ideas, and putting in their place another way of being.”
Following Jesus means expecting new and amazing things to develop from tiny inauspicious beginnings - like an apple seed. Believing in this means that God plants little seeds, and while we are not looking the whole thing changes. In another way of saying the seed fell on different kinds of soil, the writer reports that as Jesus taught “He spoke the word to them, as they were able to hear it.” This is Jesus, grinning from ear to ear and jabbing us in the ribs with his elbow, and telling us to hang on for dear life, because life is about to take us places....”
One of the things I love about my little farm, like my garden, is that it’s never finished. It’s a work in progress all the time. The realm of God, I believe, is like that. It is a work in progress. We don’t know where we are going to be taken, but we know that standing still isn’t an option. The One who plants us, who calls us to grow, who harvests and calls others to share in the harvest, has some big plans. Thanks be to God.
1. Rev. Christina Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, Illinois - from the sermon “Hold the Mustard”..
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