About this time Jesus was told that Pilate had murdered some Galileans, as they were offering sacrifices at the Temple. “Do you think those Galileans were worse sinners than all the other people from Galilee?” Jesus asked. “Is that why they suffered? Not at all! And you will perish, too, unless you repent of your sins and turn to God. And what about the eighteen people who died when the tower in Siloam fell on them? Were they the worst sinners in Jerusalem? No, and I tell you again that unless you repent, you will perish, too.” Then Jesus told this story: “A man planted a fig tree in his garden and came again and again to see if there was any fruit on it, but he was always disappointed. Finally, he said to his gardener, ‘I’ve waited three years, and there hasn’t been a single fig! Cut it down. It’s just taking up space in the garden.’ “The gardener answered, ‘Sir, give it one more chance. Leave it another year, and I’ll give it special attention and plenty of fertilizer. If we get figs next year, fine. If not, then you can cut it down.’”
What do we know about fig trees? Not much, probably because we don’t see them a lot. Fig trees are quite common in areas of the world with a Mediterranean climate, which includes the southern US, California and Texas. They can be picked twice, and even three times in a year. Figs have been an important food crop for thousands of years, and are one of the very first plants cultivated by humans. In Gilgal, in the Jordan Valley just north of Jericho, no fewer than nine subfossil figs dating to about 9400–9200 BC - the Neolithic age - were found. This find predates the domestication of wheat, barley, and legumes.
So when Jesus talks about fig trees, as he does in various places in the Gospels, he is using a symbol which has been around as long as the Israelite people remember. He isn’t using some rare esoteric plant that hardly anyone would relate to, he is using literally the most common food source around.
But there’s another little piece in this scripture which needs to be noted. The translation I just read uses the word fertiliser, but the Greek word is kopria, which means literally “manure”. So the gardener says to the owner “Leave it with me for a year or so. I will prune it and give it lots of manure.”
So here we have a scripture in two parts - first, Jesus saying something totally contrary to the accepted religious belief. Remember, it was common cultural belief that people suffered because of sin. Some of the Galileans were murdered by Pilate, and the people who come to Jesus intimate that somehow they were responsible for their own deaths at the hands of Pilate. Jesus says that those people were no worse than any other Galileans. Neither were the eighteen who were crushed by the tower of Siloam. ...and, says Jesus, everyone sins. Everyone is less than perfect, and no one is any better than anyone else. You can almost see the eyebrows of the religious leaders going straight up into their hairlines.
Then he goes on to tell one of his stories about the realm of God, and what it is like. The second part of the scripture. ...then there are two parts to the story of the tree - the roots which need feeding, before the fruit can come.
Yesterday, at the coffee and conversation get together, we got slightly off into plants that don’t bloom. I have two orchids which have sat proudly putting out lots of nice green and healthy robust leaves; they were very muscular plants, but not a sign of a bloom. I got mad. I stuck them in the front window, fertilised, and told them if they didn’t bloom they were going out into the trash. Miraculously those two orchids are now putting forth spikes and preparing to bloom.
So here is a tree - something which has been around longer than anything else - something which represents everything the children of Israel are, and it puts out leaves and branches year after year - but no fruit. Jesus was a master at using ordinary commonplace everyday things as a vehicle for teaching something really important and profound.
So he has dismissed out of hand the idea that tragedy and sin are related. These things were not (and are not) God's doing. They are terrible tragedies, and God weeps at the senselessness of the acts. Were the people who died in the bombing of the trains in Spain worse than others? Were those who died in the world trade centre worse than others? No!! They died because of random acts of violence. None of these calamities was God's doing, none of them was a punishment. Jesus wants people to understand that suffering is random. But Jesus also is saying that we all have a need to return, to repent, and to do something with our lives before we too are gone.
To repent is to get ourselves back on track, to be in right relationship with God. Sin is being out of right relations with God. To repent is to reconnect with God, to stop doing the things that hurt us and others. God calls us to repent because if we don't, our souls perish. Just as the fig tree is offered a second chance to produce fruit, God offers us a chance to begin again, to live a life of abundance.
The owner of the fig tree wants to cut it down. It's taking up precious land, soil, and time. The gardener says "Give it one more year. I'll dig around it, put manure around it. Now, this makes sense, doesn’t it? Tree roots, like everything else, need oxygen in the soil, they need to breathe. I don't know about you, but I can identify with the fig tree. Every time I turn around, there is a second chance. But there’s the critical part, too. The roots have to be dug around, the soil loosened so the air can get in, good old stinky manure spread around to give nourishment. So it is with people. We have to dig down to our roots, let some air in, fertilise with study and reflection, taking out what we’ve always believed and giving it a good second look. Is this who we are? We have to remember, we aren’t in it alone. God helps us to grow, helping us garden our lives and bearing fruit.
Anna Murdock, who continues to offer plenty of food for thought to scripture discussions, tells a story about an elderly man in her church. His back yard was filled with fig trees. He and his wife spent the fruitful season making jams and cobblers, and bagging up fresh figs. They would go throughout the town, knocking on doors and giving little gifts of their overabundance. He not only understood about looking after trees, he understood about the soul, the roots, and how essential healthy roots are in the gardens of our souls.
Sources:
1. Anna Murdock, story on “Midrash”, Woodlake Books.
2. From the sermon “One More Year”, by Rev. Cynthia Huling Hummel
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Common_fig
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Foxes in the Henhouse? February 28, 2010 Second Sunday in Lent Glen Ayr United Church, Luke 13:31-35
Today in Jerusalem, part of a wall built by Herod the Great still stands. Herod had embarked on a huge project, to renovate the temple in Jerusalem. Less than 100 years later the temple was torn down by the Romans, and the only remaining piece was the section of wall. It is known to us as the Western Wall, where worshippers gather on Friday evening - the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath - for prayers. There is an incredible reverence attached to this wall.
On the place called Temple Mount, just beyond the wall, are two Muslim holy places built on the site where the temple stood. Muslims believe that Mohammad ascended into heaven and received the Koran on this mountain. It is one of their holiest sites.
In the Middle East today, there are people on both sides who would be willing to give up territory to stop the conflict. Unfortunately the one thing on which neither can agree is who controls Jerusalem. The city is so central to the faith of both groups, that neither wants to give up the control or the power. They are willing to resort to violence to retain that control. In my mind this is religion gone awry, religion confused by a need of people to be “on top”, religion which attaches identity to a place, and makes the place most important.
Jerusalem was the capital of Israel as a unified kingdom under David and Solomon. When the kingdom was divided, Jerusalem continued as the capital of the southern nation of Judah. David’s descendants ruled over Judah for over 400 years, until the Babylonians destroyed the city and deported the entire royal family. By the time Jesus came along, there was no Jewish state at all, and no descendant of David on the throne. The new capital city was Caesarea. Regardless, Jerusalem was still a holy place, the Jews had been freed from exile in Babylon and allowed to build a new temple - but in no way was it as incredible as that of Solomon. Then, about 20 years before Jesus’ birth, Herod the Great began his massive renovation of the temple which continued for thirty years after Jesus’death - in total over 80 years of work.
It is important to remember that the identity of the Jewish people was “God's Chosen”, and to them the temple was the place where God lived. More than anything else, the temple was central to Jewish identity, and still is.
Well, there’s your history lesson in a nutshell for today. It’s important, because it puts Jesus’ comments into context. Jesus calls Jerusalem the city that kills prophets. In Jesus’ view the importance attached to Jerusalem was used as an excuse to persecute and oppress, an excuse for power over and control of, rather than a place where people are liberated.
Times don’t change much do they? People don’t change much, obviously. We live in a world obsessed with power, status and control. It doesn't matter whether it is at the global level, national level or even the office of the church; power, status and control seem to be the real coin of the realm.
Jesus was no stranger to these games of power, status and control. Time and time again he spoke out against those religious leaders who wanted the seats at the best tables as opposed to being with people. He condemned those who paraded in their religious finery. He proclaimed repeatedly that the last shall be first and the first, last. I think what galled some of the religious leaders most was that Jesus was a Pharisaic Jew, and his words cut directly to them. Although temple renovation was going ahead and Jews were allowed to practice their faith, they also had to be careful. Herod was basically under the thumb of the occupying Romans and was sucking up to them more than looking after his own people. However, I also choose to read this passage as indicating that some of the Pharisees saw the truth of Jesus’ words, and knew Herod would not take Jesus’ words so well, so they tried to warn him.
There is a reality here. Nothing alarms people who have power more than being told that the people at the bottom will come out on top, and vice versa. Jesus understands the world of politics, and power - and when he is given a warning, he does what he always does - confronts the issue directly and with clarity.
Jesus has been going through the countryside, teaching in various towns - slowly going towards Jerusalem. In verses 29 and 30, he is teaching about what the realm of God will be like. He says “People will come from all over the world - from east, west, north and south - to take their places in God’s realm. Note this: some who may seem least important now will be the greatest then, and some who are the greatest now will be least important then.”
Then we pick up today’s text: “Some Pharisees said to him, “Get away from here if you want to live! Herod Antipas wants to kill you!” Jesus replied, “Go and tell that fox that I have no time for him, for I am busy casting out demons and healing people today and tomorrow; and the third day I will accomplish my purpose. Yes, today, tomorrow, and the next day I must proceed on my way; for it wouldn’t do for a prophet of God to be killed except in Jerusalem!
...and then he weeps as he speaks -
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together, as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me. Now, look, your house is abandoned, and it is too late.”
He knows the game of power that Herod and some of the leaders are playing, and he says that his own activities of proclaiming the realm of God where the last come first, will not stop, that his activities will take him to Jerusalem, to the centre of Roman power, and he will die.
Here is the vision. The henhouse is full of foxes, and Jesus the prophet comes along to say that the realm of God is a place where the very least will be first; where the powerful lose their status. The foxes will be turfed out of the henhouse.; and the powers of Caesar quake in their boots.
In 2010, things in Jerusalem have not changed much. Things in the world have not changed much. Herod Antipas and those around him wear many faces. The poor of Vancouver’s Lower East Side are covered up and pushed aside, not by the athletes but by organisers who are more concerned about power, control, and image. Money and power try to control economies and countries - and often those who try to remove oppression lose their lives for it. Those who try to be honest, and blow the whistle on dishonest business lose their livelihoods and get blamed. But Herod, the old fox in the henhouse, no matter what his name in 2010, is not as much in control as he thinks. God who lives beyond all powers and principalities, all control and oppression, continues to demonstrate the reality of a new realm, just when the powers think everything is going their way.
This week in Lent, perhaps it’s good to reflect on power, and those who speak truth to power, as Jesus did. Do we speak truth to power? Or do we prefer to just focus on keeping ourselves alive? Who are the foxes who distract us from what we believe is God’s purpose in the world?
Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor says "If you have ever loved someone you could not protect, then you understand the depth of Jesus' lament. All you can do is open your arms. You cannot make anyone walk into them. Meanwhile, this is the most vulnerable posture in the world --wings spread, breast exposed --but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand. ... Jesus won't be king of the jungle in this or any other story. What he will be is a mother hen, who stands between the chicks and those who mean to do them harm. She has no fangs, no claws, no rippling muscles. All she has is her willingness to shield her babies with her own body. If the fox wants them, he will have to kill her first; which he does, as it turns out. He slides up on her one night in the yard while all the babies are asleep. When her cry wakens them, they scatter.
She dies the next day where both foxes and chickens can see her -- wings spread, breast exposed -- without a single chick beneath her feathers. It breaks her heart . . . but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand."
Sources:
1. “The Foxes are Not in Control”, by Rev. David Shearman, Central Westside United Church, Owen Sound, ON.
2. “Sanctuary” by Rev. Richard Gehring, formerly Manhattan Mennonite Church, Manhattan, Kansas.
3. "Chickens and Foxes", by Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor, in Bread of Angels. Cowley Publications, 1997.
On the place called Temple Mount, just beyond the wall, are two Muslim holy places built on the site where the temple stood. Muslims believe that Mohammad ascended into heaven and received the Koran on this mountain. It is one of their holiest sites.
In the Middle East today, there are people on both sides who would be willing to give up territory to stop the conflict. Unfortunately the one thing on which neither can agree is who controls Jerusalem. The city is so central to the faith of both groups, that neither wants to give up the control or the power. They are willing to resort to violence to retain that control. In my mind this is religion gone awry, religion confused by a need of people to be “on top”, religion which attaches identity to a place, and makes the place most important.
Jerusalem was the capital of Israel as a unified kingdom under David and Solomon. When the kingdom was divided, Jerusalem continued as the capital of the southern nation of Judah. David’s descendants ruled over Judah for over 400 years, until the Babylonians destroyed the city and deported the entire royal family. By the time Jesus came along, there was no Jewish state at all, and no descendant of David on the throne. The new capital city was Caesarea. Regardless, Jerusalem was still a holy place, the Jews had been freed from exile in Babylon and allowed to build a new temple - but in no way was it as incredible as that of Solomon. Then, about 20 years before Jesus’ birth, Herod the Great began his massive renovation of the temple which continued for thirty years after Jesus’death - in total over 80 years of work.
It is important to remember that the identity of the Jewish people was “God's Chosen”, and to them the temple was the place where God lived. More than anything else, the temple was central to Jewish identity, and still is.
Well, there’s your history lesson in a nutshell for today. It’s important, because it puts Jesus’ comments into context. Jesus calls Jerusalem the city that kills prophets. In Jesus’ view the importance attached to Jerusalem was used as an excuse to persecute and oppress, an excuse for power over and control of, rather than a place where people are liberated.
Times don’t change much do they? People don’t change much, obviously. We live in a world obsessed with power, status and control. It doesn't matter whether it is at the global level, national level or even the office of the church; power, status and control seem to be the real coin of the realm.
Jesus was no stranger to these games of power, status and control. Time and time again he spoke out against those religious leaders who wanted the seats at the best tables as opposed to being with people. He condemned those who paraded in their religious finery. He proclaimed repeatedly that the last shall be first and the first, last. I think what galled some of the religious leaders most was that Jesus was a Pharisaic Jew, and his words cut directly to them. Although temple renovation was going ahead and Jews were allowed to practice their faith, they also had to be careful. Herod was basically under the thumb of the occupying Romans and was sucking up to them more than looking after his own people. However, I also choose to read this passage as indicating that some of the Pharisees saw the truth of Jesus’ words, and knew Herod would not take Jesus’ words so well, so they tried to warn him.
There is a reality here. Nothing alarms people who have power more than being told that the people at the bottom will come out on top, and vice versa. Jesus understands the world of politics, and power - and when he is given a warning, he does what he always does - confronts the issue directly and with clarity.
Jesus has been going through the countryside, teaching in various towns - slowly going towards Jerusalem. In verses 29 and 30, he is teaching about what the realm of God will be like. He says “People will come from all over the world - from east, west, north and south - to take their places in God’s realm. Note this: some who may seem least important now will be the greatest then, and some who are the greatest now will be least important then.”
Then we pick up today’s text: “Some Pharisees said to him, “Get away from here if you want to live! Herod Antipas wants to kill you!” Jesus replied, “Go and tell that fox that I have no time for him, for I am busy casting out demons and healing people today and tomorrow; and the third day I will accomplish my purpose. Yes, today, tomorrow, and the next day I must proceed on my way; for it wouldn’t do for a prophet of God to be killed except in Jerusalem!
...and then he weeps as he speaks -
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones God’s messengers! How often I have wanted to gather your children together, as a hen protects her chicks beneath her wings, but you wouldn’t let me. Now, look, your house is abandoned, and it is too late.”
He knows the game of power that Herod and some of the leaders are playing, and he says that his own activities of proclaiming the realm of God where the last come first, will not stop, that his activities will take him to Jerusalem, to the centre of Roman power, and he will die.
Here is the vision. The henhouse is full of foxes, and Jesus the prophet comes along to say that the realm of God is a place where the very least will be first; where the powerful lose their status. The foxes will be turfed out of the henhouse.; and the powers of Caesar quake in their boots.
In 2010, things in Jerusalem have not changed much. Things in the world have not changed much. Herod Antipas and those around him wear many faces. The poor of Vancouver’s Lower East Side are covered up and pushed aside, not by the athletes but by organisers who are more concerned about power, control, and image. Money and power try to control economies and countries - and often those who try to remove oppression lose their lives for it. Those who try to be honest, and blow the whistle on dishonest business lose their livelihoods and get blamed. But Herod, the old fox in the henhouse, no matter what his name in 2010, is not as much in control as he thinks. God who lives beyond all powers and principalities, all control and oppression, continues to demonstrate the reality of a new realm, just when the powers think everything is going their way.
This week in Lent, perhaps it’s good to reflect on power, and those who speak truth to power, as Jesus did. Do we speak truth to power? Or do we prefer to just focus on keeping ourselves alive? Who are the foxes who distract us from what we believe is God’s purpose in the world?
Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor says "If you have ever loved someone you could not protect, then you understand the depth of Jesus' lament. All you can do is open your arms. You cannot make anyone walk into them. Meanwhile, this is the most vulnerable posture in the world --wings spread, breast exposed --but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand. ... Jesus won't be king of the jungle in this or any other story. What he will be is a mother hen, who stands between the chicks and those who mean to do them harm. She has no fangs, no claws, no rippling muscles. All she has is her willingness to shield her babies with her own body. If the fox wants them, he will have to kill her first; which he does, as it turns out. He slides up on her one night in the yard while all the babies are asleep. When her cry wakens them, they scatter.
She dies the next day where both foxes and chickens can see her -- wings spread, breast exposed -- without a single chick beneath her feathers. It breaks her heart . . . but if you mean what you say, then this is how you stand."
Sources:
1. “The Foxes are Not in Control”, by Rev. David Shearman, Central Westside United Church, Owen Sound, ON.
2. “Sanctuary” by Rev. Richard Gehring, formerly Manhattan Mennonite Church, Manhattan, Kansas.
3. "Chickens and Foxes", by Rev. Barbara Brown Taylor, in Bread of Angels. Cowley Publications, 1997.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
“Out in the Wilderness” Luke 4:1-13 February 21, 2010 First Sunday in Lent Glen Ayr United Church
Then Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan River. He was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where he was tempted by the devil for forty days. Jesus ate nothing all that time and became very hungry.
Then the devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become a loaf of bread.”
But Jesus told him, “No! The Scriptures say, ‘People do not live by bread alone.’” Then the devil revealed to him all the kingdoms of the world in one moment. “I will give you the glory of these kingdoms and authority over them,” the devil said, “because they are mine to give to anyone I please. I will give it all to you if you will worship me.” Jesus replied, “The Scriptures say, ‘You must worship and serve only God.’” Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, to the highest point of the Temple, and said, “If you are the Son of God, jump off! For the Scriptures say, ‘He will order his angels to protect and guard you. And they will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.’” Jesus responded, “The Scriptures also say, ‘You must not test God.’” When the devil had finished tempting Jesus, he left him until the next opportunity came.
******************************************************************
Toad baked some cookies. "These cookies smell very good," said Toad. He ate one. "And they taste even better," he said.
Toad ran to Frog's house. "Frog, Frog," cried Toad, "taste these cookies that I have made."
Frog ate one of the cookies, "These are the best cookies I have ever eaten!" said Frog.
Frog and Toad ate many cookies, one after another. "You know, Toad," said Frog, with his mouth full, "I think we should stop eating. We will soon be sick."
"You are right," said Toad. "Let us eat one last cookie, and then we will stop." Frog and Toad ate one last cookie. There were many cookies left in the bowl.
"Frog," said Toad, "let us eat one very last cookie, and then we will stop." Frog and Toad ate one very last cookie.
"We must stop eating!" cried Toad as he ate another.
"Yes," said Frog, reaching for a cookie, "we need willpower."
"What is willpower?" asked Toad.
"Willpower is trying hard not to do something you really want to do," said Frog.
"You mean like trying hard not to eat all these cookies?" asked Toad.
"Right," said Frog.
Frog put the cookies in a box. "There," he said. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."
"But we can open the box," said Toad.
"That is true," said Frog.
Frog tied some string around the box. "There," he said. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."
"But we can cut the string and open the box." said Toad.
"That is true," said Frog. Frog got a ladder. He put the box up on a high shelf.
"There," said Frog. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."
"But we can climb the ladder and take the box down from the shelf and cut the string and open the box," said Toad.
"That is true," said Frog.
Frog climbed the ladder and took the box down from the shelf. He cut the string and opened the box. Frog took the box outside. He shouted in a loud voice. "Hey, birds, here are cookies!" Birds came from everywhere. They picked up all the cookies in their beaks and flew away.
"Now we have no more cookies to eat," said Toad sadly. "Not even one."
"Yes," said Frog, "but we have lots and lots of willpower."
"You may keep it all, Frog," said Toad. "I am going home now to bake a cake."
******************************************************************
It’s always interesting to look at how each of the Gospels treats particular stories. Matthew and Luke tell us of the testing of Jesus; Mark gives it a couple of sentences, and John doesn’t even think it’s worth a mention.
It’s also interesting that in Hebrew, the word Satan means “the opposer”. Luke gives us a whole story; one of the interesting things about *this* version is that the “opposer” is quite literate in understanding of scripture. He knows exactly how to test Jesus, and in this wilderness where there is hunger for many things, knows what things would be hardest to resist. Of course, Jesus - even though he is tired and famished - and not quite all there - knows the answers. He knows how to say “No”.
For me, there are a few key things in this story.
It takes place in “the wilderness”, whatever that means. Is it a literal wilderness - and by that I mean, a desert? Or is it a place where there are no people - probably not hard to find. Or is it a journey inside the self - a place of unknowns, where Jesus really has to face himself, and is tested.
The Spirit led him, so we can assume he went relatively willingly; Luke implies he was filled with and inspired by, the Holy Spirit.
He didn’t take anything with him other than the clothes on his back. He was there forty days and nights, or almost six weeks. Now, forty is a good Biblical number, so let’s just assume he was in his wilderness for a very long time.
Now, if he literally went into a remote place, we can assume he was skinny, filthy, stinky, and pretty darned hungry.
So let’s try to put some of this together a little more. Jesus is inspired by the Spirit to go off by himself, somewhere away from people and food, to spend time with himself in silence. He knows that he has human failings, like everyone else; but he is also trained in the faith of the Israelite people, and after his baptism he is fairly sure he has a call to ministry. The one who opposes him tries everything - offering food, knowing he would be hungry; offering power, recognising his abilities. Jesus is able to say no, despite his hunger and despite recognising that he could have great power if he chose; he also knows what he would have to give up in return.
In the cycle of the Christian year, beginning with Ash Wednesday and ending on Easter Sunday, Christians have observed the period of “Lent” as a kind of wilderness experience. In some periods in the church, sacrifice and physical punishment of the self took place. But in general Lent has not been about “giving up” or “punishing” ourselves. The word Lent itself is derived from the Anglo-Saxon words lencten, meaning "Spring," and lenctentid, which literally means not only "Springtide" but also was the word for "March," the month in which the majority of Lent falls. Lent is to be forty days, not including Sundays.
Since the earliest times of the Church, there is evidence of some kind of Lenten preparation for Easter. Irenaeus, who died in 203 CE, wrote to Pope Victor I, commenting on the celebration of Easter and the differences between practices in the East and the West: "The dispute is not only about the day, but also about the actual character of the fast. Some think that they ought to fast for one day, some for two, others for still more; some make their 'day' last 40 hours on end. Such variation in the observance did not originate in our own day, but very much earlier, in the time of our forefathers" meaning the time of the disciples. Pope Leo, who died in 461 CE, preached that the faithful must "fulfill with their fasts the Apostolic institution of the 40 days," again noting the apostolic origins of Lent. The intent was that it was to be a time of prayer and fasting - as Jesus did.
The period of Lent and the emphasis on prayer and fasting is also a reference to the growth of the human soul, as if a plant. Gardeners know that plants have to be pruned, fertilised, mulched and watered. In the growth of the human soul, care has to be taken to ensure that it will grow and become green.
Winter can be seen as a wilderness time. Everything appears to die, and it’s only in the spring when the sun and rains come back, that the growth cycle starts. It may be that in order for our souls to grow, a little time spent with less rather than more, a little time cutting back on something really critical - might just be good for us. I don’t mean something frivolous like not watching one favourite TV show, or giving up cookies and baking cake instead, like Frog and Toad. I am talking about removing the things which distract us - perhaps we might say the things which oppose the growth of our souls.
This forty days of Lent is a gift to us for our wise use. It isn’t just a part of the church year with no meaning. Jesus went into a wilderness - whatever that meant - to learn about himself. Had he given in to any one of those very real human failings, the growth of his soul would have been stunted. We have a short forty days - just under six weeks - to learn again what is really important in life, and what our lives can be like without all the distractions we stuff into them. We do it one day at a time. We go, like Jesus, into a place of silence and prayer. We breathe, have a little water, and allow God to do some pruning and mulching, down there where the roots don’t really show.
The question is, when we get ourselves severed from the distractions, can we stand the silence? Silence can be pretty loud sometimes, can’t it? The question also is, can we stand ourselves when we look in there? What are we like in the wilderness? We have to ask ourselves what devils, what opposers are there in our lives? What opposers have our number? Do we really take spiritual time seriously? Or is there so much we just “have” to have in our life, that there is no time for a trip to the wilderness?
Sources:
1. “Frog and Toad” can be found at http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/t/temptation.htm
Ray & Anne Ortlund, Renewal, Navpress, 1989, p. 73-74.
2. History of Lent, by Rev. William Saunders. Arlington Catholic Herald.
Then the devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become a loaf of bread.”
But Jesus told him, “No! The Scriptures say, ‘People do not live by bread alone.’” Then the devil revealed to him all the kingdoms of the world in one moment. “I will give you the glory of these kingdoms and authority over them,” the devil said, “because they are mine to give to anyone I please. I will give it all to you if you will worship me.” Jesus replied, “The Scriptures say, ‘You must worship and serve only God.’” Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, to the highest point of the Temple, and said, “If you are the Son of God, jump off! For the Scriptures say, ‘He will order his angels to protect and guard you. And they will hold you up with their hands so you won’t even hurt your foot on a stone.’” Jesus responded, “The Scriptures also say, ‘You must not test God.’” When the devil had finished tempting Jesus, he left him until the next opportunity came.
******************************************************************
Toad baked some cookies. "These cookies smell very good," said Toad. He ate one. "And they taste even better," he said.
Toad ran to Frog's house. "Frog, Frog," cried Toad, "taste these cookies that I have made."
Frog ate one of the cookies, "These are the best cookies I have ever eaten!" said Frog.
Frog and Toad ate many cookies, one after another. "You know, Toad," said Frog, with his mouth full, "I think we should stop eating. We will soon be sick."
"You are right," said Toad. "Let us eat one last cookie, and then we will stop." Frog and Toad ate one last cookie. There were many cookies left in the bowl.
"Frog," said Toad, "let us eat one very last cookie, and then we will stop." Frog and Toad ate one very last cookie.
"We must stop eating!" cried Toad as he ate another.
"Yes," said Frog, reaching for a cookie, "we need willpower."
"What is willpower?" asked Toad.
"Willpower is trying hard not to do something you really want to do," said Frog.
"You mean like trying hard not to eat all these cookies?" asked Toad.
"Right," said Frog.
Frog put the cookies in a box. "There," he said. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."
"But we can open the box," said Toad.
"That is true," said Frog.
Frog tied some string around the box. "There," he said. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."
"But we can cut the string and open the box." said Toad.
"That is true," said Frog. Frog got a ladder. He put the box up on a high shelf.
"There," said Frog. "Now we will not eat any more cookies."
"But we can climb the ladder and take the box down from the shelf and cut the string and open the box," said Toad.
"That is true," said Frog.
Frog climbed the ladder and took the box down from the shelf. He cut the string and opened the box. Frog took the box outside. He shouted in a loud voice. "Hey, birds, here are cookies!" Birds came from everywhere. They picked up all the cookies in their beaks and flew away.
"Now we have no more cookies to eat," said Toad sadly. "Not even one."
"Yes," said Frog, "but we have lots and lots of willpower."
"You may keep it all, Frog," said Toad. "I am going home now to bake a cake."
******************************************************************
It’s always interesting to look at how each of the Gospels treats particular stories. Matthew and Luke tell us of the testing of Jesus; Mark gives it a couple of sentences, and John doesn’t even think it’s worth a mention.
It’s also interesting that in Hebrew, the word Satan means “the opposer”. Luke gives us a whole story; one of the interesting things about *this* version is that the “opposer” is quite literate in understanding of scripture. He knows exactly how to test Jesus, and in this wilderness where there is hunger for many things, knows what things would be hardest to resist. Of course, Jesus - even though he is tired and famished - and not quite all there - knows the answers. He knows how to say “No”.
For me, there are a few key things in this story.
It takes place in “the wilderness”, whatever that means. Is it a literal wilderness - and by that I mean, a desert? Or is it a place where there are no people - probably not hard to find. Or is it a journey inside the self - a place of unknowns, where Jesus really has to face himself, and is tested.
The Spirit led him, so we can assume he went relatively willingly; Luke implies he was filled with and inspired by, the Holy Spirit.
He didn’t take anything with him other than the clothes on his back. He was there forty days and nights, or almost six weeks. Now, forty is a good Biblical number, so let’s just assume he was in his wilderness for a very long time.
Now, if he literally went into a remote place, we can assume he was skinny, filthy, stinky, and pretty darned hungry.
So let’s try to put some of this together a little more. Jesus is inspired by the Spirit to go off by himself, somewhere away from people and food, to spend time with himself in silence. He knows that he has human failings, like everyone else; but he is also trained in the faith of the Israelite people, and after his baptism he is fairly sure he has a call to ministry. The one who opposes him tries everything - offering food, knowing he would be hungry; offering power, recognising his abilities. Jesus is able to say no, despite his hunger and despite recognising that he could have great power if he chose; he also knows what he would have to give up in return.
In the cycle of the Christian year, beginning with Ash Wednesday and ending on Easter Sunday, Christians have observed the period of “Lent” as a kind of wilderness experience. In some periods in the church, sacrifice and physical punishment of the self took place. But in general Lent has not been about “giving up” or “punishing” ourselves. The word Lent itself is derived from the Anglo-Saxon words lencten, meaning "Spring," and lenctentid, which literally means not only "Springtide" but also was the word for "March," the month in which the majority of Lent falls. Lent is to be forty days, not including Sundays.
Since the earliest times of the Church, there is evidence of some kind of Lenten preparation for Easter. Irenaeus, who died in 203 CE, wrote to Pope Victor I, commenting on the celebration of Easter and the differences between practices in the East and the West: "The dispute is not only about the day, but also about the actual character of the fast. Some think that they ought to fast for one day, some for two, others for still more; some make their 'day' last 40 hours on end. Such variation in the observance did not originate in our own day, but very much earlier, in the time of our forefathers" meaning the time of the disciples. Pope Leo, who died in 461 CE, preached that the faithful must "fulfill with their fasts the Apostolic institution of the 40 days," again noting the apostolic origins of Lent. The intent was that it was to be a time of prayer and fasting - as Jesus did.
The period of Lent and the emphasis on prayer and fasting is also a reference to the growth of the human soul, as if a plant. Gardeners know that plants have to be pruned, fertilised, mulched and watered. In the growth of the human soul, care has to be taken to ensure that it will grow and become green.
Winter can be seen as a wilderness time. Everything appears to die, and it’s only in the spring when the sun and rains come back, that the growth cycle starts. It may be that in order for our souls to grow, a little time spent with less rather than more, a little time cutting back on something really critical - might just be good for us. I don’t mean something frivolous like not watching one favourite TV show, or giving up cookies and baking cake instead, like Frog and Toad. I am talking about removing the things which distract us - perhaps we might say the things which oppose the growth of our souls.
This forty days of Lent is a gift to us for our wise use. It isn’t just a part of the church year with no meaning. Jesus went into a wilderness - whatever that meant - to learn about himself. Had he given in to any one of those very real human failings, the growth of his soul would have been stunted. We have a short forty days - just under six weeks - to learn again what is really important in life, and what our lives can be like without all the distractions we stuff into them. We do it one day at a time. We go, like Jesus, into a place of silence and prayer. We breathe, have a little water, and allow God to do some pruning and mulching, down there where the roots don’t really show.
The question is, when we get ourselves severed from the distractions, can we stand the silence? Silence can be pretty loud sometimes, can’t it? The question also is, can we stand ourselves when we look in there? What are we like in the wilderness? We have to ask ourselves what devils, what opposers are there in our lives? What opposers have our number? Do we really take spiritual time seriously? Or is there so much we just “have” to have in our life, that there is no time for a trip to the wilderness?
Sources:
1. “Frog and Toad” can be found at http://www.sermonillustrations.com/a-z/t/temptation.htm
Ray & Anne Ortlund, Renewal, Navpress, 1989, p. 73-74.
2. History of Lent, by Rev. William Saunders. Arlington Catholic Herald.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
“Coming Down from the Light” February 14, 2010 Transfiguration Sunday Exodus 34:29-35, Luke 9:28-43
The long nights and the gray days
weary my body and bone
and I am lost in the last of winter.
The hungry blackbirds pick at the stalks
of another year’s growing,
mere skeletons in a ravaged field.
The old frozen snow is black, filthy stuff -
a remnant of longing and despair
from the white days of winter’s brightness.
If I did not know better,
I would be bleak and barren as the world.
But I have seen the glory -
seen the early green, the bulging bud,
the sun streaming through the seams
of the awakening maples.
I have seen the glory
of a world transfigured by Spring.
And so I squint through remembering eyes
at these wearying winter days,
daring them to do their worst, and say
“Just you wait. Just you wait.”
Moses goes up a mountain to speak to God, and returns with his face shining like the sun. He covers his face with a veil after that, except when he is in God’s presence - at those times he goes before God completely as himself.
Jesus takes three of the disciples up Mount Hermon - he is doing a bit of a mini-retreat - just needing some time to reflect, pray, gather himself. As usual, the three end up almost nodding off, but just as they are about to sleep, Jesus’ appearance changes - his face and clothes begin to glow.
In both cases, Moses and Jesus have a transcendent experience which changes them right at the very heart of their spiritual core - and the experience is so profound it shines out of them.
My colleague, Anna Murdock, refers to the ‘thin places’ of the world. Anna writes “I have a dear friend who calls such a time a “heaven-touching-earth moment.” I refer to this as a God-moment. There are no words to give name adequately to such a time when the Divine Veil has been lifted in one’s presence. The radiance, the glory, God’s Presence and our deep desire to put a time such as this into immediate words all cause some stammering on our part - even confusion as to what has taken place.” Anna goes on to say “I feel as if I have the word “PETER” written across my forehead, as my heart wants to blurt out words that will prove themselves to be a jumbled-up mess. It is then that a holy finger presses against our lips and we hear “Shhhh - this is my sonm, my chosen. Listen to him.” and the Divine Veil is lifted if only for a moment.
What is a thin place? To discern the difference between an ordinary place and a thin place, one must use a spiritual perspective. In simple terms a ‘thin place’ is a place where the veil between this world and the Other world is thin, the Other world is more near. This meaning assumes the perceiver senses the existence of a world beyond what we know through our five senses.
Truth abides in thin places; naked, raw, hard to face truth. Yet the comfort, safety and strength to face that truth also abides there. Thin places captivate our imagination, yet diminish our existence. We become very small, yet we gain connection and become part of something larger than we can perceive. The human spirit is awakened and will grow if the body and mind allow it. Simply put, a thin place is a place where one feels that mysterious power.
In his Spiritual Message to the World in 1931, Mahatma Gandhi said, “There is an indefinable, mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this unseen power that makes itself felt and yet defies all proof, because it is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses. It transcends the senses”
So Jesus and his three closest friends Peter, James and John up the highest mountain in the area. As they stop near the summit to catch their breath, Jesus’ face radiates light; his clothes became glistening white. Altitude sickness, all three of them? Could this have been what the Israelites had seen when Moses brought the Ten Commandments down from Sinai and his face shone so that he had to cover it?
The disciples had seen this glorious event in dumbstruck silence. Peter wanted to remain in the rarified atmosphere of this mountain-top experience and stop the clock. He had seen Paree; he didn't want to return to the farm. When he found his voice, he said to Jesus, "Master, it's a good thing that we are here; let us make three booths, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. Let's stay right here, Jesus. We've seen how glorious life can be. Let's preserve this glorious moment and not worry about going back from this light."
Jesus, you will note, didn’t even begin to try to answer. He had no words himself, and probably Peter’s stammering sounded like gibberish to him. He had a transfiguring and transforming experience which showed him what life could be, a glimpse of the incredible majesty and power of God.
And then - KLUNK!
All four of them stumble down from the mountain, still hyper-ventilating from the mountain-top experience. I am quite sure that Jesus was just as dumbstruck as the other three. It’s one thing to have faith, to believe that there is a God and to be committed to a life of prayer and ministry. It’s quite another thing to come face to face with that radiant glory, and walk away in any state other than tongue-tied.
Now, I’m interjecting a comment here - about lectionaries. If I had followed the lectionary, only the first part of this text - the transfiguration part - would have been included. But the following piece is critical to the whole story, because it is real life.
Moses, having been to one of those thin places and encountering the radiant presence of God, then has to come back down and try to explain to the Israelites. How mundane, to have to return from communing with God to explaining to a “stubborn and stiff-necked people” what his perception of God’s intent was.
So, we find Jesus and the disciples still pinching themselves, the three walking along with their eyes bugging out, Jesus probably wanting just to hold on to some quiet and reflective time; they get to the bottom of the mountain again and find a crowd waiting, and a man with an epileptic son, asking Jesus to help. The man says he asked the other disciples to heal his son, but they could not. And Jesus says the most human thing which I think ever came out his mouth. He says something like “Gawd, how long do I have to put up with this? Bring the boy to me.” Can you hear the utter exasperation in his voice? After such an experience, isn’t this the last thing one would want to deal with?
Remember, he’s just been to the mountaintop, had a transcendent spiritual experience, he is still mentally and spiritually back there. How mundane it must have seemed. How small compared to the grandeur of the previous moment. I can see him asking himself “Is this all there is? Is this what it’s about?” Was this experience destined to become, like so many religious experiences, only a dimly-remembered high moment in a never-ending sea of need?
Some of us may have had such an experience: a time when the universe makes sense, a glimpse of something far beyond the mundane of many todays - a time when we had no doubts, and found ourselves a part of the universe and could see with surety the next world.
Rev. Thomas Hall asks “why did this event become a treasured memory of the Church? What's the point of it? This experience doesn’t ever happen at my church-except maybe with the help of pyrotechnics and strobe lights. How do we relate to it?
He answers his own question. “This became an indelible memory because it could never be repeated. Some Christians go to the Bible stories to attempt to replicate what they read. Unfortunately, in the process, the Scriptures are turned into rigid formulae that now dictate our experiences. That's one reason we have so many versions of the Christian faith--we're trying to reduce the stories into rules, truths, formulae, and doctrines. And when we think we've got the truth we become intolerant of others who have discovered a different way to understand the same truth. Even our gospel writers place different interpretations on the Transfiguration experience. Mark sees it as a mountain top experience, Matthew as a vision, Luke as a prayer meeting. So let's be honest this morning and let this memory stand on its own without trying to squeeze it into our personal experiences.”
So we let the experience of transfiguration stand as it is - one brief moment of clarity and revelation - a stepping into a thin place for a moment, where two worlds touch; we catch a glimpse of radiant and transcendent glory. Then we come back to earth, to the people around us who hurt and need healing, to the ordinary and everyday, things which look drab and mundane. The trick is to look at those ordinary, everyday things which appear drab by comparison, remove the veil from our own eyes, and see the glory there as well.
Sometimes on the rarest nights
comes the vision calm and clear,
gleaming with unearthly lights
on our path of doubt and fear.
Winds from that far land are blown,
whispering with secret breath--
hope that plays a tune alone,
love that conquers pain and death.
Sources:
1. Poem “Late Winter”, by Rev. Tim Haut, Deep River Pastoral Charge, 2002.
2. Anna Murdock, from "Shhhhh....Listen!" Luke 9:28-36 Ponderings for Transfiguration Sunday 2010
3. A description of thin places, www.thinplaces.net
4. Sermon “A Mountaintop Experience”, by Dr. David Rogne, retired pastor United Methodist Church USA
5. Sermon “Prayer Mountain” by Rev. Thomas Hall, Mayflower UCC, Billings, MT.
6. “Land of Might-Have-Been”, song by Jeremy Northam, from the movie Gosford Park 2001.
weary my body and bone
and I am lost in the last of winter.
The hungry blackbirds pick at the stalks
of another year’s growing,
mere skeletons in a ravaged field.
The old frozen snow is black, filthy stuff -
a remnant of longing and despair
from the white days of winter’s brightness.
If I did not know better,
I would be bleak and barren as the world.
But I have seen the glory -
seen the early green, the bulging bud,
the sun streaming through the seams
of the awakening maples.
I have seen the glory
of a world transfigured by Spring.
And so I squint through remembering eyes
at these wearying winter days,
daring them to do their worst, and say
“Just you wait. Just you wait.”
Moses goes up a mountain to speak to God, and returns with his face shining like the sun. He covers his face with a veil after that, except when he is in God’s presence - at those times he goes before God completely as himself.
Jesus takes three of the disciples up Mount Hermon - he is doing a bit of a mini-retreat - just needing some time to reflect, pray, gather himself. As usual, the three end up almost nodding off, but just as they are about to sleep, Jesus’ appearance changes - his face and clothes begin to glow.
In both cases, Moses and Jesus have a transcendent experience which changes them right at the very heart of their spiritual core - and the experience is so profound it shines out of them.
My colleague, Anna Murdock, refers to the ‘thin places’ of the world. Anna writes “I have a dear friend who calls such a time a “heaven-touching-earth moment.” I refer to this as a God-moment. There are no words to give name adequately to such a time when the Divine Veil has been lifted in one’s presence. The radiance, the glory, God’s Presence and our deep desire to put a time such as this into immediate words all cause some stammering on our part - even confusion as to what has taken place.” Anna goes on to say “I feel as if I have the word “PETER” written across my forehead, as my heart wants to blurt out words that will prove themselves to be a jumbled-up mess. It is then that a holy finger presses against our lips and we hear “Shhhh - this is my sonm, my chosen. Listen to him.” and the Divine Veil is lifted if only for a moment.
What is a thin place? To discern the difference between an ordinary place and a thin place, one must use a spiritual perspective. In simple terms a ‘thin place’ is a place where the veil between this world and the Other world is thin, the Other world is more near. This meaning assumes the perceiver senses the existence of a world beyond what we know through our five senses.
Truth abides in thin places; naked, raw, hard to face truth. Yet the comfort, safety and strength to face that truth also abides there. Thin places captivate our imagination, yet diminish our existence. We become very small, yet we gain connection and become part of something larger than we can perceive. The human spirit is awakened and will grow if the body and mind allow it. Simply put, a thin place is a place where one feels that mysterious power.
In his Spiritual Message to the World in 1931, Mahatma Gandhi said, “There is an indefinable, mysterious power that pervades everything. I feel it, though I do not see it. It is this unseen power that makes itself felt and yet defies all proof, because it is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses. It transcends the senses”
So Jesus and his three closest friends Peter, James and John up the highest mountain in the area. As they stop near the summit to catch their breath, Jesus’ face radiates light; his clothes became glistening white. Altitude sickness, all three of them? Could this have been what the Israelites had seen when Moses brought the Ten Commandments down from Sinai and his face shone so that he had to cover it?
The disciples had seen this glorious event in dumbstruck silence. Peter wanted to remain in the rarified atmosphere of this mountain-top experience and stop the clock. He had seen Paree; he didn't want to return to the farm. When he found his voice, he said to Jesus, "Master, it's a good thing that we are here; let us make three booths, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah. Let's stay right here, Jesus. We've seen how glorious life can be. Let's preserve this glorious moment and not worry about going back from this light."
Jesus, you will note, didn’t even begin to try to answer. He had no words himself, and probably Peter’s stammering sounded like gibberish to him. He had a transfiguring and transforming experience which showed him what life could be, a glimpse of the incredible majesty and power of God.
And then - KLUNK!
All four of them stumble down from the mountain, still hyper-ventilating from the mountain-top experience. I am quite sure that Jesus was just as dumbstruck as the other three. It’s one thing to have faith, to believe that there is a God and to be committed to a life of prayer and ministry. It’s quite another thing to come face to face with that radiant glory, and walk away in any state other than tongue-tied.
Now, I’m interjecting a comment here - about lectionaries. If I had followed the lectionary, only the first part of this text - the transfiguration part - would have been included. But the following piece is critical to the whole story, because it is real life.
Moses, having been to one of those thin places and encountering the radiant presence of God, then has to come back down and try to explain to the Israelites. How mundane, to have to return from communing with God to explaining to a “stubborn and stiff-necked people” what his perception of God’s intent was.
So, we find Jesus and the disciples still pinching themselves, the three walking along with their eyes bugging out, Jesus probably wanting just to hold on to some quiet and reflective time; they get to the bottom of the mountain again and find a crowd waiting, and a man with an epileptic son, asking Jesus to help. The man says he asked the other disciples to heal his son, but they could not. And Jesus says the most human thing which I think ever came out his mouth. He says something like “Gawd, how long do I have to put up with this? Bring the boy to me.” Can you hear the utter exasperation in his voice? After such an experience, isn’t this the last thing one would want to deal with?
Remember, he’s just been to the mountaintop, had a transcendent spiritual experience, he is still mentally and spiritually back there. How mundane it must have seemed. How small compared to the grandeur of the previous moment. I can see him asking himself “Is this all there is? Is this what it’s about?” Was this experience destined to become, like so many religious experiences, only a dimly-remembered high moment in a never-ending sea of need?
Some of us may have had such an experience: a time when the universe makes sense, a glimpse of something far beyond the mundane of many todays - a time when we had no doubts, and found ourselves a part of the universe and could see with surety the next world.
Rev. Thomas Hall asks “why did this event become a treasured memory of the Church? What's the point of it? This experience doesn’t ever happen at my church-except maybe with the help of pyrotechnics and strobe lights. How do we relate to it?
He answers his own question. “This became an indelible memory because it could never be repeated. Some Christians go to the Bible stories to attempt to replicate what they read. Unfortunately, in the process, the Scriptures are turned into rigid formulae that now dictate our experiences. That's one reason we have so many versions of the Christian faith--we're trying to reduce the stories into rules, truths, formulae, and doctrines. And when we think we've got the truth we become intolerant of others who have discovered a different way to understand the same truth. Even our gospel writers place different interpretations on the Transfiguration experience. Mark sees it as a mountain top experience, Matthew as a vision, Luke as a prayer meeting. So let's be honest this morning and let this memory stand on its own without trying to squeeze it into our personal experiences.”
So we let the experience of transfiguration stand as it is - one brief moment of clarity and revelation - a stepping into a thin place for a moment, where two worlds touch; we catch a glimpse of radiant and transcendent glory. Then we come back to earth, to the people around us who hurt and need healing, to the ordinary and everyday, things which look drab and mundane. The trick is to look at those ordinary, everyday things which appear drab by comparison, remove the veil from our own eyes, and see the glory there as well.
Sometimes on the rarest nights
comes the vision calm and clear,
gleaming with unearthly lights
on our path of doubt and fear.
Winds from that far land are blown,
whispering with secret breath--
hope that plays a tune alone,
love that conquers pain and death.
Sources:
1. Poem “Late Winter”, by Rev. Tim Haut, Deep River Pastoral Charge, 2002.
2. Anna Murdock, from "Shhhhh....Listen!" Luke 9:28-36 Ponderings for Transfiguration Sunday 2010
3. A description of thin places, www.thinplaces.net
4. Sermon “A Mountaintop Experience”, by Dr. David Rogne, retired pastor United Methodist Church USA
5. Sermon “Prayer Mountain” by Rev. Thomas Hall, Mayflower UCC, Billings, MT.
6. “Land of Might-Have-Been”, song by Jeremy Northam, from the movie Gosford Park 2001.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
“Here I Am.” Isaiah 6:1-13 Glen Ayr United Church 5th of Epiphany February 7, 2010
My name is Isaiah, son of Amoz. I am a member of a noble family in the Kingdom of Judah. Because I was wealthy, as a young person I was not prepared to hear the cries of the poor nor to see the plight of the downtrodden in my country. As one of the aristocracy, I could pass these people by and never notice. If they had no food, no place to sleep, no access to any doctors, - it wasn’t my issue.
In my later years, I became more sensitive to the cries of such people, those beaten by life almost before they could walk. I found that I heard many things behind their words; needs, pain, ambitions, aspirations. I spent a lot of time pondering why it was that after years of comfortable living, I became more open and aware.
I have come to the conclusion that it was an experience of worship. By that I mean, that people's hearts and lives can be changed by worship. Now, I don’t mean the droning perfunctory performance of ritual, that which really kills religion. I mean authentic worship which engages and involves the mind and will of the worshipper. I have come to see that there are universal elements in our experience which can be applied by all people who seek to worship God authentically.
How does one get people to see what they don't want to see and to hear what they don't want to hear? For most of my life I've been trying to make people aware of the injustice prevalent in society so they would make some constructive response. I've been trying to get people to put their trust in God instead of possessions. I've been trying to get kings to put more emphasis on the needs of the poor and less emphasis on alliances. When Ahaz was the King of Judah, I went and urged him not to enter into an alliance with the Assyrians, for I was confident that they would one day turn on us. He ordered me to keep my mouth shut. That experience made me reflect on my vocation. I felt that God had called me to speak out, but if God had called me, why was I not more successful?
On reflection I decided my great change came from an experience of worship. So I began to reflect on what constitutes authentic worship. Here is what I decided.
The first element of authentic worship is focus on God. In the year King Uzziah, died, I went to the temple to pray. I stood in the vestibule, preparing to enter the sanctuary. I became aware that I was in the presence of God. I had been there so many times before that familiar rituals made no impression. This time was different; symbolism and ritual suddenly had life. The choir became heavenly beings, seraphim, doing what they were intended to do. The hem of God’s robe filled the entire temple - how much more was there which could not be seen? "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of Hosts." suddenly had real meaning. The table became the very throne of God, God’s voice was audible....
Many people, when they come to worship, see themselves as the audience; the preacher and musicians are the actors; God is in the wings, as the prompter. The congregation is then free to criticize: either it was a good show or it wasn't a good show; it made them feel good, or it didn't make them feel good; and how the congregation feels is all that matters.
In fact, the truth is the other way around. In authentic worship, God is the audience; the worshippers are the actors; the preacher and musicians are the prompters. Confronting the living God must be the goal of every act of worship, not kindling a glow in the hearts of worshippers.
In worship we need confession. When I realised God’s majesty, all I could say was, "Woe is me!" When you come face to face with the kind of power that created the universe and keeps it in balance, how can you not stand in awe? When you think what it means to be holy: to be working for others as God does, how petty we are in contrast; we, who strive to dominate others, to exploit our relationships, to get rather than to give; how can we do anything but admit our unworthiness? I had to admit that my righteousness was no match for the righteousness of God or for God's expectation of me.
To confess that we have been wrong, sinful, spiteful or careless requires humility, and it is hard for us to be humble. But if we do not start from humility, nothing in life will be right. Heartfelt honest confession is critical for authentic worship.
Another aspect of worship is cleansing. I confessed - I am a man of unclean lips, I said - and right away God’s cleansing began. In my day people burnt expensive animals on altars as a sacrifice to God, and the smoke would carry their gift to God. My sacrifice was my pride. I confessed my unworthiness through words. I felt as if my lips were set afire by one of the coals on the altar. But I was forgiven. Authentic worship assures us that we are accepted and thereby cleansed.
Finally, let me say that if we are really worshiping God, we should also be doing something. There is a time for contemplation, introspection, and repentance. But when we have been made right with God, we must work to balance meditation with action. Good religion serves others. Before that experience in the temple, I was so blinded by my own needs and desires that I took little notice of others. When I realised the staggering goodness of God, and of my own small -mindedness, the fact that I was forgiven, I heard a new sound - the voice of God. Where it was, inside me or outside, I don’t know. I felt the burning on my lips, I knew there was a consecration, but I also knew that to be consecrated meant to be taken from the normal. I know that God said "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" God must always have been seeking assistance to accomplish great tasks, must always have been calling people. Much to my own surprise, I heard myself volunteering: "Here I am, send me”, and God commissioned me to "go." My life had been completely changed.
The question of all of this, of course, is why. People of faith are called to walk in God’s way, when others seem to be walking a totally different direction. We live among people who hate - who find enemies in the world - and cling to a message about loving neighbours and enemies. We live in a world of rumour and war, and follow a God who suggests that when we are weak, we are at our strongest. We live in a world which measures by possessions, size, wealth, name - and yet we come to an ordinary table to share a common meal - a small piece of bread, as if it were sufficient for a meal; and a small sip from a cup, trusting that it quenches our thirst.
Going over all this with you has been very helpful to me. One's religion must never become cut and dried; it must never become something which took place years ago and has not been examined since. It cannot be an exercise in nostalgia, for the past was never as rosy as we remember it. Worship must be an ongoing, everyday experience of growth. Worship provides those opportunities for renewal which are necessary for every one of us. Of course, we must beware of just going through the forms and calling that worship. Authentic worship truly expresses adoration and confession, and truly leads to forgiveness and action. So action becomes an act of worship as well. We come here to listen for God’s voice, to be renewed, and to be sent out - to each other, to our community, and to the world. It must be those three.
Have you been worshiping authentically? There is a way for you to tell. God's voice is still saying, "Whom shall I send?" Into your home, into your work, into the life of your congregation and your role in it. If you have not heard God speak in worship, or heard but not responded, then your worship experience is incomplete. It is not too late. Today, you could say, "Here am I, Lord, send me." May it be so.
Sources:
1. Based on the sermon “Worthy Worship” by Dr. David Rogne, retired pastor, United Methodist Church USA.
2. Ronald Rolheiser, The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality (New York: Doubleday, 1999).
In my later years, I became more sensitive to the cries of such people, those beaten by life almost before they could walk. I found that I heard many things behind their words; needs, pain, ambitions, aspirations. I spent a lot of time pondering why it was that after years of comfortable living, I became more open and aware.
I have come to the conclusion that it was an experience of worship. By that I mean, that people's hearts and lives can be changed by worship. Now, I don’t mean the droning perfunctory performance of ritual, that which really kills religion. I mean authentic worship which engages and involves the mind and will of the worshipper. I have come to see that there are universal elements in our experience which can be applied by all people who seek to worship God authentically.
How does one get people to see what they don't want to see and to hear what they don't want to hear? For most of my life I've been trying to make people aware of the injustice prevalent in society so they would make some constructive response. I've been trying to get people to put their trust in God instead of possessions. I've been trying to get kings to put more emphasis on the needs of the poor and less emphasis on alliances. When Ahaz was the King of Judah, I went and urged him not to enter into an alliance with the Assyrians, for I was confident that they would one day turn on us. He ordered me to keep my mouth shut. That experience made me reflect on my vocation. I felt that God had called me to speak out, but if God had called me, why was I not more successful?
On reflection I decided my great change came from an experience of worship. So I began to reflect on what constitutes authentic worship. Here is what I decided.
The first element of authentic worship is focus on God. In the year King Uzziah, died, I went to the temple to pray. I stood in the vestibule, preparing to enter the sanctuary. I became aware that I was in the presence of God. I had been there so many times before that familiar rituals made no impression. This time was different; symbolism and ritual suddenly had life. The choir became heavenly beings, seraphim, doing what they were intended to do. The hem of God’s robe filled the entire temple - how much more was there which could not be seen? "Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord of Hosts." suddenly had real meaning. The table became the very throne of God, God’s voice was audible....
Many people, when they come to worship, see themselves as the audience; the preacher and musicians are the actors; God is in the wings, as the prompter. The congregation is then free to criticize: either it was a good show or it wasn't a good show; it made them feel good, or it didn't make them feel good; and how the congregation feels is all that matters.
In fact, the truth is the other way around. In authentic worship, God is the audience; the worshippers are the actors; the preacher and musicians are the prompters. Confronting the living God must be the goal of every act of worship, not kindling a glow in the hearts of worshippers.
In worship we need confession. When I realised God’s majesty, all I could say was, "Woe is me!" When you come face to face with the kind of power that created the universe and keeps it in balance, how can you not stand in awe? When you think what it means to be holy: to be working for others as God does, how petty we are in contrast; we, who strive to dominate others, to exploit our relationships, to get rather than to give; how can we do anything but admit our unworthiness? I had to admit that my righteousness was no match for the righteousness of God or for God's expectation of me.
To confess that we have been wrong, sinful, spiteful or careless requires humility, and it is hard for us to be humble. But if we do not start from humility, nothing in life will be right. Heartfelt honest confession is critical for authentic worship.
Another aspect of worship is cleansing. I confessed - I am a man of unclean lips, I said - and right away God’s cleansing began. In my day people burnt expensive animals on altars as a sacrifice to God, and the smoke would carry their gift to God. My sacrifice was my pride. I confessed my unworthiness through words. I felt as if my lips were set afire by one of the coals on the altar. But I was forgiven. Authentic worship assures us that we are accepted and thereby cleansed.
Finally, let me say that if we are really worshiping God, we should also be doing something. There is a time for contemplation, introspection, and repentance. But when we have been made right with God, we must work to balance meditation with action. Good religion serves others. Before that experience in the temple, I was so blinded by my own needs and desires that I took little notice of others. When I realised the staggering goodness of God, and of my own small -mindedness, the fact that I was forgiven, I heard a new sound - the voice of God. Where it was, inside me or outside, I don’t know. I felt the burning on my lips, I knew there was a consecration, but I also knew that to be consecrated meant to be taken from the normal. I know that God said "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" God must always have been seeking assistance to accomplish great tasks, must always have been calling people. Much to my own surprise, I heard myself volunteering: "Here I am, send me”, and God commissioned me to "go." My life had been completely changed.
The question of all of this, of course, is why. People of faith are called to walk in God’s way, when others seem to be walking a totally different direction. We live among people who hate - who find enemies in the world - and cling to a message about loving neighbours and enemies. We live in a world of rumour and war, and follow a God who suggests that when we are weak, we are at our strongest. We live in a world which measures by possessions, size, wealth, name - and yet we come to an ordinary table to share a common meal - a small piece of bread, as if it were sufficient for a meal; and a small sip from a cup, trusting that it quenches our thirst.
Going over all this with you has been very helpful to me. One's religion must never become cut and dried; it must never become something which took place years ago and has not been examined since. It cannot be an exercise in nostalgia, for the past was never as rosy as we remember it. Worship must be an ongoing, everyday experience of growth. Worship provides those opportunities for renewal which are necessary for every one of us. Of course, we must beware of just going through the forms and calling that worship. Authentic worship truly expresses adoration and confession, and truly leads to forgiveness and action. So action becomes an act of worship as well. We come here to listen for God’s voice, to be renewed, and to be sent out - to each other, to our community, and to the world. It must be those three.
Have you been worshiping authentically? There is a way for you to tell. God's voice is still saying, "Whom shall I send?" Into your home, into your work, into the life of your congregation and your role in it. If you have not heard God speak in worship, or heard but not responded, then your worship experience is incomplete. It is not too late. Today, you could say, "Here am I, Lord, send me." May it be so.
Sources:
1. Based on the sermon “Worthy Worship” by Dr. David Rogne, retired pastor, United Methodist Church USA.
2. Ronald Rolheiser, The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality (New York: Doubleday, 1999).
Saturday, January 16, 2010
The Good Wine Isaiah 62:1-5, John 2:1-11. January 17, 2010 Glen Ayr United Church
If Jesus could transform
common water
into wedding wine,
spit and dirt
into new sight,
troubled sea
into a pathway
well water
into living water
could Christ transform
the waters of my life
shallow
murky
polluted
stagnant
sour
into a shower
of blessing?
The late Scott Peck, in the book “The Road Less Travelled” began by saying “Life is hard.” As I discussed the readings this week with other clergy, the “why” questions kept coming up - why 9/11, why Hurricane Katrina, a 15 year old killed on a snowmobile, a diagnosis of terminal cancer, a young woman suffering a miscarriage...
...these “why” questions arise again in the aftermath of the earthquake which has devastated Haiti, a tiny island country already struggling to climb out from destruction of hurricanes. Whenever horrendous things happen, the most frequent question we all ask is “why”? For people who believe that God is Love, one of the questions we ask in such situations is “Where is God?”
In the midst of the Haiti disaster, we were treated once again to idiotic remarks by Pat Robertson, that the people of Haiti made a pact with Satan years ago to help them overcome the French, and now they are suffering because of that. Robertson, who is not a pastor in any way, and whose personal dealings and finances are highly suspect, presumes not only to pass judgment, but to twist history; after all, any black person who dares to stand up to white colonials must be evil. There is nothing more than racism at the root of his rhetoric.
Rev. Gord Waldie, in Thunder Bay, writes in his blog “For one author I read last year the question of evil caused him to give up on faith.” Bart Ehrman struggled with the varied Scriptural explanations of evil events (punishment, testing, mystery), and decided they were lacking. The reality is that there are no answers to such events except “because”.
So the question, in the face of such suffering, and such complete idiocy, is how can we continue to proclaim God’s goodness and compassion when the world turns upside down?
In our readings this week, Jesus attends a wedding. Weddings then were not the kind of ceremony we imagine; the betrothal was performed much earlier with a cup of wine, and when the woman went to live with the man, they were married. The celebrations often went on for close to a week - and wine was the safest thing to drink. The water was set aside for the rituals of purification.
Here is a wedding, and an impending disaster. If the wine ran out the host would be considered cheap, and chintzy. Most hosts put out the good wine first, got people going, and then served up the cheap wine when the guests wouldn’t notice. Think about this: Jesus created some 120 or more gallons of wine, after the cheap wine was gone.
I wonder what the servants were thinking. Water in the jars? But those are for ritual washing, purification. We can't use those jars for wine. We've never done that before.
Now take water out? Take it to the host? It's only water. He's already upset about how things are going. Smell it? It's only.......wait a minute! What is this? And who are you?
The Cana miracle opens Jesus’ ministry with a miracle of abundant grace, a miracle of hope and possibilities. John calls this miracle a “sign”. This name for miracle reminds us that miracles are more than spectacular action. They are signs that point beyond any one particular act or event to what can be seen of God in the miracle. This sign points to Jesus “glory”. In the Hebrew Scriptures, “glory” is the term for the manifestation of God’s presence. Jesus makes God’s presence known in the grace-filled abundance of the wine.
Wine was so vital to the culture and economy of Israel, that it took on important theological significance. Wine was used throughout the scriptures as a symbol of holy joy. Isaiah used the lack of wine as a sign of desolation, and an abundance of good wine was a sign of the arrival of God’s new age. Wine was a powerful theological metaphor that everyone understood.
And that's how it happens - this thing we call a miracle, the turning of water into wine. By faithfulness and grace ordinary human lives and the things we offer are transformed into something holy and life-giving for the world. The late Fred Rogers, of Mr. Rogers fame, was a Presbyterian minister. When he was asked where God could be found, he responded “Look for the helpers.”
Haiti has suffered a long, long time; earlier this week it looked as if the wine finally ran out. After generations of misrule and disorder, decades of oppressive government, and two years of small recoveries from hurricane damage, whatever fragile hope remained of rebuilding their nation was crushed in the rubbing together of giant tectonic plates below the surface of the ocean. This was not a judgement of God, but the result of a world still in the making, upon which the ground beneath all our feet is never as solid as we imagine.
In the wake of disaster, as a first impulse of God's Spirit at work, and before anything else can arise to stifle or qualify the response, relief and aid has flowed from all parts of the globe. The Chinese were the first to reach Haiti with first-aid teams and dogs trained to find survivors in the rubble; a search-and-rescue team from Iceland, who knows how many teams from other countries, the military from the States and Canada, World Development and Relief Emergency Response at the United Church, PWDR in the Anglican Church, United Methodist, Disciples of Christ, Doctors without Borders, international and religious medical teams and relief agencies all at work together to help bring something good out of the horrible thing that happened.
Six twenty-plus-gallon jars full to overflowing with ordinary human work and commitment, given as soon as the word was heard. Water upon water of charitable and humanitarian work poured into the gaping need. Each dollar and each act just a drop in the bucket, to be sure. But added together enough to keep hope alive, enough to maintain or restore faith in a living God, enough to give reason for thanks in the midst of an intolerable situation.
And isn't that what life is? Isn't that what the wedding feast called the earth is like? Disaster is not uncommon, things change and give way, the ground we stand on is never quite solid, but when we offer what we can in faith, in hope and in love, the incredible grace and abundance of God can be glimpsed in the midst of everything else.
What we give becomes more than we think it can be. Every dollar given is matched in relief funds - $200 from Glen Ayr becomes $1000 in aid.
In the world as in our worship, and in our worship as in the world, each drop in the bucket is important, for that is the only way the the jars be made full - as full as God desires and needs for the story of the kingdom to continue?
Water into wine; and from ordinary water, good wine flowing. It sounds miraculous.
Fat Tuesday Word Jazz
So in our need for hope for survival
It’s time to turn the pages of the Bible
To the wedding in Cana in the land near Galilee
Where Jesus and his mom enjoyed festivity
Noshing on the free eats
Eating on the free treats
Sipping on the red wine
Having quite a swell time
“Hey, bartender, can you top off my glass
What’s that you say? There’s no wine in the flask?
Ran out so soon? That’s so low-class!”
The crowd at the wedding
Lounged on the bedding
Watched CNN and PBS
ABC and CBS
About CFO’s and CEO’s
IOU’s and HMO’s
Waited for refills
Waited for bailout packages
Waited for stimulus checks
Waited for debt consolidation
Waited for mortgage restructuring
Waited for responses to their resumes
Waited for emails from personnel departments
Midnight rolled around
No more wine was found
Tuesday the party popped
Wednesday the party flopped
Jesus said “Let’s go
Come on, Mom, let’s blow.”
But Mary told him “No!
It isn’t time to go
The wine has got to flow
The people need to know
That – we can!
we can!
we can be full
we can be fillers
we can be healed
we can be healers
we can be free
we can be freers
we can be kind
we can be kinder
we can be loved
we can be lovers
we can be Love….
So make it so!”
She told her son
Who didn’t want
To be the One…
May it be so.
Sources:
1. “Where is God”, newspaper column by Rev. Gord Waldie
2. Sermon material from Rev. Susan Leo, Bridgeport United Church of Christ, Oregon.
3. Sermon material from Rev. John Shearman, retired United Church of Canada.
4. Tom Lane “Imaging the Word”, opening poem.
5. Bill Burklo, selected parts of ‘Fat Tuesday Word Jazz’ in the blog “Musings” from February 27, 2009.
6. “Water into Wine”, sermon for January 17, 2010 by Rev. Brian Donst, Emmanuel United Church, Hamilton, ON.
common water
into wedding wine,
spit and dirt
into new sight,
troubled sea
into a pathway
well water
into living water
could Christ transform
the waters of my life
shallow
murky
polluted
stagnant
sour
into a shower
of blessing?
The late Scott Peck, in the book “The Road Less Travelled” began by saying “Life is hard.” As I discussed the readings this week with other clergy, the “why” questions kept coming up - why 9/11, why Hurricane Katrina, a 15 year old killed on a snowmobile, a diagnosis of terminal cancer, a young woman suffering a miscarriage...
...these “why” questions arise again in the aftermath of the earthquake which has devastated Haiti, a tiny island country already struggling to climb out from destruction of hurricanes. Whenever horrendous things happen, the most frequent question we all ask is “why”? For people who believe that God is Love, one of the questions we ask in such situations is “Where is God?”
In the midst of the Haiti disaster, we were treated once again to idiotic remarks by Pat Robertson, that the people of Haiti made a pact with Satan years ago to help them overcome the French, and now they are suffering because of that. Robertson, who is not a pastor in any way, and whose personal dealings and finances are highly suspect, presumes not only to pass judgment, but to twist history; after all, any black person who dares to stand up to white colonials must be evil. There is nothing more than racism at the root of his rhetoric.
Rev. Gord Waldie, in Thunder Bay, writes in his blog “For one author I read last year the question of evil caused him to give up on faith.” Bart Ehrman struggled with the varied Scriptural explanations of evil events (punishment, testing, mystery), and decided they were lacking. The reality is that there are no answers to such events except “because”.
So the question, in the face of such suffering, and such complete idiocy, is how can we continue to proclaim God’s goodness and compassion when the world turns upside down?
In our readings this week, Jesus attends a wedding. Weddings then were not the kind of ceremony we imagine; the betrothal was performed much earlier with a cup of wine, and when the woman went to live with the man, they were married. The celebrations often went on for close to a week - and wine was the safest thing to drink. The water was set aside for the rituals of purification.
Here is a wedding, and an impending disaster. If the wine ran out the host would be considered cheap, and chintzy. Most hosts put out the good wine first, got people going, and then served up the cheap wine when the guests wouldn’t notice. Think about this: Jesus created some 120 or more gallons of wine, after the cheap wine was gone.
I wonder what the servants were thinking. Water in the jars? But those are for ritual washing, purification. We can't use those jars for wine. We've never done that before.
Now take water out? Take it to the host? It's only water. He's already upset about how things are going. Smell it? It's only.......wait a minute! What is this? And who are you?
The Cana miracle opens Jesus’ ministry with a miracle of abundant grace, a miracle of hope and possibilities. John calls this miracle a “sign”. This name for miracle reminds us that miracles are more than spectacular action. They are signs that point beyond any one particular act or event to what can be seen of God in the miracle. This sign points to Jesus “glory”. In the Hebrew Scriptures, “glory” is the term for the manifestation of God’s presence. Jesus makes God’s presence known in the grace-filled abundance of the wine.
Wine was so vital to the culture and economy of Israel, that it took on important theological significance. Wine was used throughout the scriptures as a symbol of holy joy. Isaiah used the lack of wine as a sign of desolation, and an abundance of good wine was a sign of the arrival of God’s new age. Wine was a powerful theological metaphor that everyone understood.
And that's how it happens - this thing we call a miracle, the turning of water into wine. By faithfulness and grace ordinary human lives and the things we offer are transformed into something holy and life-giving for the world. The late Fred Rogers, of Mr. Rogers fame, was a Presbyterian minister. When he was asked where God could be found, he responded “Look for the helpers.”
Haiti has suffered a long, long time; earlier this week it looked as if the wine finally ran out. After generations of misrule and disorder, decades of oppressive government, and two years of small recoveries from hurricane damage, whatever fragile hope remained of rebuilding their nation was crushed in the rubbing together of giant tectonic plates below the surface of the ocean. This was not a judgement of God, but the result of a world still in the making, upon which the ground beneath all our feet is never as solid as we imagine.
In the wake of disaster, as a first impulse of God's Spirit at work, and before anything else can arise to stifle or qualify the response, relief and aid has flowed from all parts of the globe. The Chinese were the first to reach Haiti with first-aid teams and dogs trained to find survivors in the rubble; a search-and-rescue team from Iceland, who knows how many teams from other countries, the military from the States and Canada, World Development and Relief Emergency Response at the United Church, PWDR in the Anglican Church, United Methodist, Disciples of Christ, Doctors without Borders, international and religious medical teams and relief agencies all at work together to help bring something good out of the horrible thing that happened.
Six twenty-plus-gallon jars full to overflowing with ordinary human work and commitment, given as soon as the word was heard. Water upon water of charitable and humanitarian work poured into the gaping need. Each dollar and each act just a drop in the bucket, to be sure. But added together enough to keep hope alive, enough to maintain or restore faith in a living God, enough to give reason for thanks in the midst of an intolerable situation.
And isn't that what life is? Isn't that what the wedding feast called the earth is like? Disaster is not uncommon, things change and give way, the ground we stand on is never quite solid, but when we offer what we can in faith, in hope and in love, the incredible grace and abundance of God can be glimpsed in the midst of everything else.
What we give becomes more than we think it can be. Every dollar given is matched in relief funds - $200 from Glen Ayr becomes $1000 in aid.
In the world as in our worship, and in our worship as in the world, each drop in the bucket is important, for that is the only way the the jars be made full - as full as God desires and needs for the story of the kingdom to continue?
Water into wine; and from ordinary water, good wine flowing. It sounds miraculous.
Fat Tuesday Word Jazz
So in our need for hope for survival
It’s time to turn the pages of the Bible
To the wedding in Cana in the land near Galilee
Where Jesus and his mom enjoyed festivity
Noshing on the free eats
Eating on the free treats
Sipping on the red wine
Having quite a swell time
“Hey, bartender, can you top off my glass
What’s that you say? There’s no wine in the flask?
Ran out so soon? That’s so low-class!”
The crowd at the wedding
Lounged on the bedding
Watched CNN and PBS
ABC and CBS
About CFO’s and CEO’s
IOU’s and HMO’s
Waited for refills
Waited for bailout packages
Waited for stimulus checks
Waited for debt consolidation
Waited for mortgage restructuring
Waited for responses to their resumes
Waited for emails from personnel departments
Midnight rolled around
No more wine was found
Tuesday the party popped
Wednesday the party flopped
Jesus said “Let’s go
Come on, Mom, let’s blow.”
But Mary told him “No!
It isn’t time to go
The wine has got to flow
The people need to know
That – we can!
we can!
we can be full
we can be fillers
we can be healed
we can be healers
we can be free
we can be freers
we can be kind
we can be kinder
we can be loved
we can be lovers
we can be Love….
So make it so!”
She told her son
Who didn’t want
To be the One…
May it be so.
Sources:
1. “Where is God”, newspaper column by Rev. Gord Waldie
2. Sermon material from Rev. Susan Leo, Bridgeport United Church of Christ, Oregon.
3. Sermon material from Rev. John Shearman, retired United Church of Canada.
4. Tom Lane “Imaging the Word”, opening poem.
5. Bill Burklo, selected parts of ‘Fat Tuesday Word Jazz’ in the blog “Musings” from February 27, 2009.
6. “Water into Wine”, sermon for January 17, 2010 by Rev. Brian Donst, Emmanuel United Church, Hamilton, ON.
Friday, January 1, 2010
New Light in a New Year January 3, 2009 Epiphany Sunday Matthew 2:1-12
Do you like to travel? You all probably know that Norio and I travel a lot, and love almost any mode of travel. In 2008 - between us - we went to Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Cuba, Japan, and the eastern US. Some of those trips were by land, some were by air, and some by sea. In 2009 we went to Panama, Colombia, the western Caribbean, Japan, Cuba, and the eastern provinces of Canada. Once again it was by land, sea, and air. Norio has just returned from yet another trip to Japan, and I am just preparing to go to the western Caribbean. We don’t seem to get tired of it. I’d say the only thing is we don’t get to spend nearly long enough in any one place, and always see just enough to make us want to go back and explore some more.
The first time I travelled was as a three-year old, moving from one town in Saskatchewan to another. Then, as a four-year-old, to yet another town in the northern parts of Saskatchewan; then as a 12yr old to Winnipeg, and as a 24 yr old to Japan - and of course on to Viet Nam, Australia and the US.
I suspect that travel is something which gets into the blood - especially for those of us who were children of ministers, where moving was a part of life all the time. I still feel a little sorry for my childhood friends, who have never left the home where they were born, never seen another part of even this country. They always comment on how busy Norio and I are, how do we manage it. The notion of travelling to other places frightens them.
Travelling, even going somewhere for just a few hours, changes us if we have our eyes, ears, and senses open. Last January, I went to a city in Colombia - Cartagena de Indias - for just a few hours - but in that time I saw the Museum of the Inquisition and heard tales of Spanish torture; saw a church where Jesuit priests who defended the indigenous peoples were slaughtered; and heard stories about the heroics of some of those priests. I saw enough of Colombia to be changed by the experience, and to want to go back again and learn more.
In Panama, I saw a country struggling to modernise itself - building everywhere - and heard the pride of people who now have control of their own destiny. They have a vision for their country, and are working to make it happen. If we are open to seeing, even such a short time can change us, because it changes how we see our own lives as well.
As we come into a new year, - 2010 - what is it which leads us as a congregation? What are the ideas, hopes, plans which may be born in us today? What ideas to we want to honour and worship? What is our potential for life in the future??? What makes us look up, look forward, step out on the road? There are many churches whose primary goal is keeping the doors open. I’ve served a couple of them. That is their star. They will follow that star with enthusiasm until either the church closes, or, until they realise that God has many bright lights which can lead s journey.
What about spiritual growth? Being a caring community, lively community of faith? What about faith exploration with young and old together? What about pastoral care and outreach being done by this congregation? If we can get ourselves out of “survival” mode, and spend more time focusing on what we are being called to be and to do now, where would the journey take us? Who else might be drawn to the light?
When the magi left their home countries, heading for Judea, they were not tourists, not on a trip to have some fun, or to get away from a cold Canadian winter. They believed their journey had a purpose of incredible importance. But stars don’t always shine in clear skies, and a trip following a star using hand-held instruments is full of danger. They were following a brilliant light, some of the time, but it was far away and not always reliable. They wanted to follow the way that they were being shown, even though they did not have a clear idea of where it would take them, but sometimes they could not see the way at all, and had to stop and ask for directions.
It sounds an awful lot like where we often find ourselves, doesn't it? We have some idea of where we would like to go as we look to the future. We know what kind of changes would make our lives better, and our world better, but we have no clear idea of how to get there. That is the part which frustrates us - because we are so used to having clear ideas about everything - that letting go and trusting even if we don’t see ready answers is the hardest thing to do.
And in the middle of all of this, Jesus is born; he is on a journey himself, growing up as a child of oppression, through pain and joy, being led by a light, and striving to teach people around him about what God is doing in the world. He trusted; he had questions, but he trusted God. We have to trust that the light which leads us will help us to set life-giving priorities. We have to resist being deterred when we find ourselves in unfamiliar territory, and on a journey which asks us to search even we cannot see completely clearly.
The magi didn’t know how the story ended - and in fact for them it didn’t end. They met Herod, and with a flash of insight knew that was not the way to go; they found the child, and knew they had found something special; and at the end they knew they could not return home the same way. They didn’t spend years in Egypt and then go home. If the story is true, they were in one place briefly - Matthew says the found the house where Jesus was, and offered their gifts. They might have stayed overnight, or a couple of days. Yet their lives were completely changed by the experience.
Throughout Advent, through Christmas, and into Epiphany we travel a road - to a town where Jesus was born, and then on into Egypt. We try, in this short season, to find new insight; to learn new things about ourselves and our faith. Today, with the Magi, we come to the house and find the child. We offer our gifts, and we leave again on the journey, trusting that God is with us.
Sources: With material from Rev. Tim Dayfoot, Orono Pastoral Charge, Ontario.
The first time I travelled was as a three-year old, moving from one town in Saskatchewan to another. Then, as a four-year-old, to yet another town in the northern parts of Saskatchewan; then as a 12yr old to Winnipeg, and as a 24 yr old to Japan - and of course on to Viet Nam, Australia and the US.
I suspect that travel is something which gets into the blood - especially for those of us who were children of ministers, where moving was a part of life all the time. I still feel a little sorry for my childhood friends, who have never left the home where they were born, never seen another part of even this country. They always comment on how busy Norio and I are, how do we manage it. The notion of travelling to other places frightens them.
Travelling, even going somewhere for just a few hours, changes us if we have our eyes, ears, and senses open. Last January, I went to a city in Colombia - Cartagena de Indias - for just a few hours - but in that time I saw the Museum of the Inquisition and heard tales of Spanish torture; saw a church where Jesuit priests who defended the indigenous peoples were slaughtered; and heard stories about the heroics of some of those priests. I saw enough of Colombia to be changed by the experience, and to want to go back again and learn more.
In Panama, I saw a country struggling to modernise itself - building everywhere - and heard the pride of people who now have control of their own destiny. They have a vision for their country, and are working to make it happen. If we are open to seeing, even such a short time can change us, because it changes how we see our own lives as well.
As we come into a new year, - 2010 - what is it which leads us as a congregation? What are the ideas, hopes, plans which may be born in us today? What ideas to we want to honour and worship? What is our potential for life in the future??? What makes us look up, look forward, step out on the road? There are many churches whose primary goal is keeping the doors open. I’ve served a couple of them. That is their star. They will follow that star with enthusiasm until either the church closes, or, until they realise that God has many bright lights which can lead s journey.
What about spiritual growth? Being a caring community, lively community of faith? What about faith exploration with young and old together? What about pastoral care and outreach being done by this congregation? If we can get ourselves out of “survival” mode, and spend more time focusing on what we are being called to be and to do now, where would the journey take us? Who else might be drawn to the light?
When the magi left their home countries, heading for Judea, they were not tourists, not on a trip to have some fun, or to get away from a cold Canadian winter. They believed their journey had a purpose of incredible importance. But stars don’t always shine in clear skies, and a trip following a star using hand-held instruments is full of danger. They were following a brilliant light, some of the time, but it was far away and not always reliable. They wanted to follow the way that they were being shown, even though they did not have a clear idea of where it would take them, but sometimes they could not see the way at all, and had to stop and ask for directions.
It sounds an awful lot like where we often find ourselves, doesn't it? We have some idea of where we would like to go as we look to the future. We know what kind of changes would make our lives better, and our world better, but we have no clear idea of how to get there. That is the part which frustrates us - because we are so used to having clear ideas about everything - that letting go and trusting even if we don’t see ready answers is the hardest thing to do.
And in the middle of all of this, Jesus is born; he is on a journey himself, growing up as a child of oppression, through pain and joy, being led by a light, and striving to teach people around him about what God is doing in the world. He trusted; he had questions, but he trusted God. We have to trust that the light which leads us will help us to set life-giving priorities. We have to resist being deterred when we find ourselves in unfamiliar territory, and on a journey which asks us to search even we cannot see completely clearly.
The magi didn’t know how the story ended - and in fact for them it didn’t end. They met Herod, and with a flash of insight knew that was not the way to go; they found the child, and knew they had found something special; and at the end they knew they could not return home the same way. They didn’t spend years in Egypt and then go home. If the story is true, they were in one place briefly - Matthew says the found the house where Jesus was, and offered their gifts. They might have stayed overnight, or a couple of days. Yet their lives were completely changed by the experience.
Throughout Advent, through Christmas, and into Epiphany we travel a road - to a town where Jesus was born, and then on into Egypt. We try, in this short season, to find new insight; to learn new things about ourselves and our faith. Today, with the Magi, we come to the house and find the child. We offer our gifts, and we leave again on the journey, trusting that God is with us.
Sources: With material from Rev. Tim Dayfoot, Orono Pastoral Charge, Ontario.
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