On Friday night I was having a conversation with my son about God, faith, religion and - in his mind - the damage religion does when it is not carefully thought out. He was relating that a colleague of his at work has recently become involved in a church, and it is beginning to consume his life. He tends to repeat whatever he is told without thinking. So this colleague pronounced that if people don’t love God, they can’t love others either.
It was interesting that we were having this particular conversation, because I had already decided to preach on the text of John - whoever loves comes from God. This is precisely the opposite of what my son’s colleague was saying. We don’t have to love God first, and then find the capability to love others. It is the other way around - humans are born to love, and the love we are capable of having for others connects us to God.
So it raises for me the question of what constitutes “right belief”. Is it a so-called orthodox belief that only Christians are selected by God, and can have a relationship with God. Is God so limited? What, and who, defines our relationship to God? Us?
Is baptism evidence of “right belief”? We bring children for baptism, make promises on their behalf. Does that mean they have “right belief” just because of that action? We confirm our children when they are teens, and they are considered members of the church. Is that all ‘right belief’ takes? Or do those young people then continue to learn and discover what love in faith means?
Is prayer “right belief”? What kind of prayer? Is prayer alone the most important thing? Does God ignore us if we don’t pray a certain way? Does God do what we ask and turn others down?
What about social justice and outreach? Is that “right belief”? Shelters, warm meals, Habitat for Humanity builds, compassion. Are those the only evidence of “right belief”? John’s Gospel talks about Jesus being the vine, and us the branches. Jesus was love, Jesus is love. So if that is the case, then we also are born to love - and out of that love surely comes a mission. A church with no sense of mission has cut itself off from the Vine. Without connection to the Vine, mission in the church is just mission by any other social agency.
What about the ‘born again’ experience? Is that the earmark of “right belief”? We know that deeply moving experiences can change lives. Is that all? One moving experience which connects us to God, and suddenly we have “right belief”? What does it mean to be “born again”? Who defines what “born again” is?
I suggest that beyond baptism, beyond orthodox or unorthodox faith stances, beyond prayer, beyond social justice and outreach, there are the two statements from John which put all of those things into a different perspective.
First, we have this statement: “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.”
....and this statement: “For God is love.....if we love one another, God lives in us, God’s love is perfected in us.”
Love. It is the single most important thing in the Christian faith. Prayer, baptism, outreach, life in community - these are all important things. But I would go so far as to say that the most important is love.
Agape, or love within a community, is the single piece, the one criterion that gives meaning to everything else we say or do. We might be able to recite the creeds, and the Lord’s Prayer, but if we do not have love, we are what Paul says is a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. We may have experiences that take us into God’s holy presence, but without love it does us no good. And though we feed the hungry and rescue those who are perishing but have no love, we are nothing. We might think baptism is all it takes - but unless a child learns to love throughout life - it is a meaningless ritual.
To have love - agape - is to have God living within us; everyone who loves has God within them.
But this one simple statement takes us well beyond the Christian context, and into a world-wide context. “Everyone who loves is born of God and knows God; if we love one another, God lives in us.” It means that God lives within human beings regardless of whether or not they are baptised, or whether or not they pray, or even whether or not they claim they are Christian. God is love. God cannot be contained by one faith, or one way of looking at faith. God lives because we love.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Saturday, May 2, 2009
The Cup of My Life Fourth Sunday of Easter Psalm 23, John 10:11-18
In the last couple of weeks we’ve had a scare about swine flu. The Centres for Disease Control were on the verge of leaping right past epidemic warnings, to a full pandemic warning. Here, however, is a sobering thought. Last year 36,000 people in North America alone died of regular influenza. In 2006, there were 247 million cases of malaria, and 881,000 deaths in 2008.
Second. I was sent a video, by two different people, of a Chinese woman who has no arms. She lives alone, and supports herself. She can comb her hair, wash herself, cook and clean, and completely looks after herself. The video shows her overturning rocks with her feet, to take out crabs for sale.
These two things took me to the 23rd Psalm - one of the rocks in our statements of faith, along with the Lord’s Prayer - and one of those things we can recite practically off by heart, want at every memorial service, and don’t think about its meaning a lot. Especially the line “My cup runs over.....”.
There is an odd thing about this Psalm - Palestine has not been known for its succulent, lush grasslands; in its place are thousands of square miles of parched ground, desiccated vegetation and desolate desert floor. How could the writer--probably a Bedouin shepherd himself--describe wasteland as "green"? In fact, some shepherds took the time to create "green” pastures; got rid of the rocks, irrigated it, planted legumes and vegetations that had deep tap roots; the green pastures would be scattered throughout the vast territory of the desert and the shepherds would guide their flocks throughout the long arid months from one oasis to the next.
For those of the Jewish faith, this Psalm is part of the Sabbath rituals, recited at the Sabbath meal. It is part of the Jewish funeral service. I can’t imagine there are many here today who have not heard it recited at a funeral or memorial.
I think we need to pay attention to it because its message reaches deep into the places where people live. In the end, the psalm is about finding comfort in times of desperation and despair ...and who has not visited those wastelands? Yet it is also a Psalm of hope in the face of great trial and despair - a Psalm which speaks of living waters and green fields, a place where the cups of our lives run over with everything good.
There is a story about Psalm 23. This psalm is attributed to David, before he became king. David had become a hero after killing Goliath. Though he remained loyal to King Saul, Saul grew jealous, and saw David as a threat. Several times Saul sent David to war, in order to ensure his death. When that didn’t work, Saul got more heavy-handed, with the result that David was forced to run into the wilderness. Supposedly, during this time David composed this Psalm. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”
“God is my shepherd.” This statement is, in Scripture, the first linking of the divine as the shepherd; John expanded on the idea in the Gospel, naming Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Now, if we say the word ‘shepherd’, what image comes to mind? I bet the one we all think of is the handsome strapping fellow with a lamb draped around his neck and looking dewy-eyed at baby Jesus
Is that what it is? The sheep is owned and lives or dies at the whim of the shepherd. Any measure of protection given to the sheep is what a good person gives his property. He can use the rod and staff to keep predators away, but also to herd the sheep, and not necessarily gently. Sheep are not recognised for their intelligence or gentle nature, but for wool and food. They aren’t necessarily beloved pets.
.
So in some ways the psalm could be seen as surrendering to someone who owns you and having faith that you will be treated well. In this case, for David, the shepherd does. So we have a beautiful poem about an exhausted and disheartened being finding peace through surrender to God. I certainly know that place, that place of fear and deep anxiety. For that is the meaning here - not literally death, but those times in our lives when we are so far down, we are in the valley of the shadow of death.
You know the saying “There are no atheists in a foxhole”. No atheist in the trenches? No atheist on an airplane about to crash? Rev. Brian Kiely, at the Unitarian Church of Edmonton, writes “For many years, flying would always bring out all my near-death fears. I’d look around at my fellow passengers and wonder if I should get to know them just in case we found ourselves on the brink of death. I’d grip the arms of my seat so tightly during take-off and landing that my knuckles would turn white.
Years ago, on a particularly bumpy flight, (you know, one of those flights when the plane keeps dropping thousands of feet unexpectedly) I found myself sitting next to a crying child. I could barely keep myself from shaking apart. So, I began to sing the one prayer I knew: Spirit of Life come unto me. Spirit of Life, the hymn I’d been singing with Unitarian Universalist congregations for years. Magically, we both calmed. I imagined the Spirit of Life, the Divine Mystery, present with us, and the spirit of my whole religious community singing in unison, holding us close as we bumped through the skies.”
Kiely uses the example of the great Bobby McFerrin, who created a choral setting of the Psalm, substituting She for He.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
She makes me lay down in green pastures; she leads me beside still waters;
she restores my soul…
He says “For me, the word She was a gateway—somehow it opened the psalm’s power for me. How do I explain it? It is absolutely true that I was unsure as any Unitarian Universalist seeker about my own theology, that I did not start praying to God until I found myself in a foxhole, on a flight. I was one big chicken, sure that I was about to die– no matter what anyone may have told me about the statistical unlikelihood. And I prayed really, really hard. I found that I wasn’t praying to be saved in the event of a disaster. I was praying in gratitude for the life I had lived thus far, for all the small, beautiful moments. I was praying that all those I loved would be blessed. I was praying that the world would be blessed.”
“The great American preacher Howard Thurman once described prayer as an inward journey across an interior sea to an island. In the center of the island stands a temple and inside the temple burns a flame. That’s where prayers go. That idea has always moved me. If my prayers go anywhere, they go into me and towards whatever spark of the divine lies within. My prayers call on my inner reserves and whatever capacity I have to summon the peace and confidence that calms my fears in times of stress and anxiety.
And that is the place I come to in the midst of the angst of the last few weeks, the over-reactions and fanning of the flames of fear, trying to convince us we are coming to the valley of the shadow. These are our enemies - the times we fear, the times we despair, the times when we get bogged down in what is wrong with our lives.
In the past few weeks since Easter - with the economy going down, the busy-ness of extra services and extra meetings, hard decisions to make, seeing things come apart no matter how hard we try, it is easy to fall into a kind of dis-ease and despair. For clergy, every year just after Easter, we tend to go under spiritually and psychologically. The longer we are in ministry, the longer it takes to come out of that place. Add into that all the things we read - pirates hijacking ships, a new version of an old flu, shaky economy, loss - it is easy to forget why we come here, why we claim we have faith.
And I come back to that incredible Chinese woman, who could have simply given up on life, who could have despaired. Yet it is obvious from the video that this woman has a life, and a full one at that. Yes, it's a hard life. Yet no harder than life for people with two arms and hands - and it's clear that her attitude is that life is good.
I discovered another version of this Psalm, partly written by a secular humanist.
God is my guide. I am not denied the sustaining power of life.
The green earth provides nourishment, the cool still pools of water refresh my spirit.
A deep intuition leads me along a path that is true, for the sake of existence itself.
Even though I walk through a valley where dark shadows intervene in life,
I will not fear, for the Spirit is within me.
The tools which keep me from despair are a comfort. Even in the face of threats to my life, the Spirit nourishes me, honours me by its presence and reminds me that I really have more than I need. Surely goodness and kindness radiate are always with me, and I will dwell within this universe always.
I think in these times, it is worth going back to this Psalm and using it as a prayer - you prepare a place for me, right where my enemies are. The cup of my life runs over with your goodness. No matter what happens in my life, goodness and compassion go with me. You are with me. Thanks be to God.
Sources:
1. The Good Shepherd by Rev. Thomas Hall
2. The 23rd Psalm by Rev. Richard Kiely, Unitarian Church, Edmonton Alberta.
Second. I was sent a video, by two different people, of a Chinese woman who has no arms. She lives alone, and supports herself. She can comb her hair, wash herself, cook and clean, and completely looks after herself. The video shows her overturning rocks with her feet, to take out crabs for sale.
These two things took me to the 23rd Psalm - one of the rocks in our statements of faith, along with the Lord’s Prayer - and one of those things we can recite practically off by heart, want at every memorial service, and don’t think about its meaning a lot. Especially the line “My cup runs over.....”.
There is an odd thing about this Psalm - Palestine has not been known for its succulent, lush grasslands; in its place are thousands of square miles of parched ground, desiccated vegetation and desolate desert floor. How could the writer--probably a Bedouin shepherd himself--describe wasteland as "green"? In fact, some shepherds took the time to create "green” pastures; got rid of the rocks, irrigated it, planted legumes and vegetations that had deep tap roots; the green pastures would be scattered throughout the vast territory of the desert and the shepherds would guide their flocks throughout the long arid months from one oasis to the next.
For those of the Jewish faith, this Psalm is part of the Sabbath rituals, recited at the Sabbath meal. It is part of the Jewish funeral service. I can’t imagine there are many here today who have not heard it recited at a funeral or memorial.
I think we need to pay attention to it because its message reaches deep into the places where people live. In the end, the psalm is about finding comfort in times of desperation and despair ...and who has not visited those wastelands? Yet it is also a Psalm of hope in the face of great trial and despair - a Psalm which speaks of living waters and green fields, a place where the cups of our lives run over with everything good.
There is a story about Psalm 23. This psalm is attributed to David, before he became king. David had become a hero after killing Goliath. Though he remained loyal to King Saul, Saul grew jealous, and saw David as a threat. Several times Saul sent David to war, in order to ensure his death. When that didn’t work, Saul got more heavy-handed, with the result that David was forced to run into the wilderness. Supposedly, during this time David composed this Psalm. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”
“God is my shepherd.” This statement is, in Scripture, the first linking of the divine as the shepherd; John expanded on the idea in the Gospel, naming Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Now, if we say the word ‘shepherd’, what image comes to mind? I bet the one we all think of is the handsome strapping fellow with a lamb draped around his neck and looking dewy-eyed at baby Jesus
Is that what it is? The sheep is owned and lives or dies at the whim of the shepherd. Any measure of protection given to the sheep is what a good person gives his property. He can use the rod and staff to keep predators away, but also to herd the sheep, and not necessarily gently. Sheep are not recognised for their intelligence or gentle nature, but for wool and food. They aren’t necessarily beloved pets.
.
So in some ways the psalm could be seen as surrendering to someone who owns you and having faith that you will be treated well. In this case, for David, the shepherd does. So we have a beautiful poem about an exhausted and disheartened being finding peace through surrender to God. I certainly know that place, that place of fear and deep anxiety. For that is the meaning here - not literally death, but those times in our lives when we are so far down, we are in the valley of the shadow of death.
You know the saying “There are no atheists in a foxhole”. No atheist in the trenches? No atheist on an airplane about to crash? Rev. Brian Kiely, at the Unitarian Church of Edmonton, writes “For many years, flying would always bring out all my near-death fears. I’d look around at my fellow passengers and wonder if I should get to know them just in case we found ourselves on the brink of death. I’d grip the arms of my seat so tightly during take-off and landing that my knuckles would turn white.
Years ago, on a particularly bumpy flight, (you know, one of those flights when the plane keeps dropping thousands of feet unexpectedly) I found myself sitting next to a crying child. I could barely keep myself from shaking apart. So, I began to sing the one prayer I knew: Spirit of Life come unto me. Spirit of Life, the hymn I’d been singing with Unitarian Universalist congregations for years. Magically, we both calmed. I imagined the Spirit of Life, the Divine Mystery, present with us, and the spirit of my whole religious community singing in unison, holding us close as we bumped through the skies.”
Kiely uses the example of the great Bobby McFerrin, who created a choral setting of the Psalm, substituting She for He.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
She makes me lay down in green pastures; she leads me beside still waters;
she restores my soul…
He says “For me, the word She was a gateway—somehow it opened the psalm’s power for me. How do I explain it? It is absolutely true that I was unsure as any Unitarian Universalist seeker about my own theology, that I did not start praying to God until I found myself in a foxhole, on a flight. I was one big chicken, sure that I was about to die– no matter what anyone may have told me about the statistical unlikelihood. And I prayed really, really hard. I found that I wasn’t praying to be saved in the event of a disaster. I was praying in gratitude for the life I had lived thus far, for all the small, beautiful moments. I was praying that all those I loved would be blessed. I was praying that the world would be blessed.”
“The great American preacher Howard Thurman once described prayer as an inward journey across an interior sea to an island. In the center of the island stands a temple and inside the temple burns a flame. That’s where prayers go. That idea has always moved me. If my prayers go anywhere, they go into me and towards whatever spark of the divine lies within. My prayers call on my inner reserves and whatever capacity I have to summon the peace and confidence that calms my fears in times of stress and anxiety.
And that is the place I come to in the midst of the angst of the last few weeks, the over-reactions and fanning of the flames of fear, trying to convince us we are coming to the valley of the shadow. These are our enemies - the times we fear, the times we despair, the times when we get bogged down in what is wrong with our lives.
In the past few weeks since Easter - with the economy going down, the busy-ness of extra services and extra meetings, hard decisions to make, seeing things come apart no matter how hard we try, it is easy to fall into a kind of dis-ease and despair. For clergy, every year just after Easter, we tend to go under spiritually and psychologically. The longer we are in ministry, the longer it takes to come out of that place. Add into that all the things we read - pirates hijacking ships, a new version of an old flu, shaky economy, loss - it is easy to forget why we come here, why we claim we have faith.
And I come back to that incredible Chinese woman, who could have simply given up on life, who could have despaired. Yet it is obvious from the video that this woman has a life, and a full one at that. Yes, it's a hard life. Yet no harder than life for people with two arms and hands - and it's clear that her attitude is that life is good.
I discovered another version of this Psalm, partly written by a secular humanist.
God is my guide. I am not denied the sustaining power of life.
The green earth provides nourishment, the cool still pools of water refresh my spirit.
A deep intuition leads me along a path that is true, for the sake of existence itself.
Even though I walk through a valley where dark shadows intervene in life,
I will not fear, for the Spirit is within me.
The tools which keep me from despair are a comfort. Even in the face of threats to my life, the Spirit nourishes me, honours me by its presence and reminds me that I really have more than I need. Surely goodness and kindness radiate are always with me, and I will dwell within this universe always.
I think in these times, it is worth going back to this Psalm and using it as a prayer - you prepare a place for me, right where my enemies are. The cup of my life runs over with your goodness. No matter what happens in my life, goodness and compassion go with me. You are with me. Thanks be to God.
Sources:
1. The Good Shepherd by Rev. Thomas Hall
2. The 23rd Psalm by Rev. Richard Kiely, Unitarian Church, Edmonton Alberta.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Earth and Sky Third Sunday of Easter Earth Day sermon
Have you ever read “The Tipping Point”, by Malcolm Gladwell? In this book, Gladwell looks at how little things can make a big difference, how small details turn a local fad into a national trend, or a single illness into an epidemic. Gladwell identifies the “tipping points” that create big changes, events that weight a trend or belief and create a large shift: what works in marketing, like how college officials got kids to get tetanus shots, and why children’s television programs work. One of the “Tipping Points” Gladwell describes in the book is the “sticky message.”
Sticky messages are memorable; sticky messages are useful and practical. They fit into our lives and make good sense. A “sticky message” stays with people, and compels them to respond and to act.
Gladwell looked at children’s television programs. Why, he wondered, do kids love Sesame Street and Blues Clues? Turns out that the people who created Sesame Street and Blues Clues
figured out how to make the message “sticky” with one simple idea: If you can hold the attention of children, you can educate them. The message on these programs is simple . It doesn’t have to be clever, but it does have to be literal and clear, and in the form of a story. Kids love to hear a story over and over again. They like stories to be repetitive, because the story is a new experience each time they hear it. “Sticky messages” show us that there is a simple way to package a message. So we have “stickies”.
Listen to words from John: “See what love God has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.”
In Romans 8, Paul says: "We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now--- creation awaits with eager longing the revealing of the children of God.”
"The whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now..creation awaits the revealing of the children of God." From its earliest days, the human race has sought to control the natural world, to bend it to whatever purpose we determine should be used for our benefit. Rather than being seen as a gift from God, in the last couple of centuries particularly, it has become nothing more than a commodity, something to be used as a means of profit. Every year thousands of species of God's creatures - all part of creation - have become extinct at the hands of the human race.
“As international corporations have moved into poor nations, the natural resources have been taken and the environment has often been poisoned in the process. The result is not just damage to the earth and the creatures of the earth, but to human beings as well. I believe that by the latest count of the United Nations, 12 million children under the age of six die every year over the world. Many are killed in conflicts - Afghanistan and the Middle East-- but most of them die from starvation, polluted water or other environmentally caused conditions and diseases. While this is happening, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. In 2009, the gap between the richest people in the world and the poorest has never been greater - and that gap is expanding.”
You cannot have healthy people on a sick earth-- and not only nature but the human race is groaning like a woman in labour. When I first went to Japan in 1970 - the city of Tokyo was approximately 16.5 million people. The bay was so full of sludge that there were bets as to what would happen if a plane taking off Haneda, which was the airport then - landed in the bay. It was ugly - there were lines of demarkation in the water as the sediment and pollution got thicker and thicker. Most days you could not see a block down the street - and I was introduced to allergies and smog. As of 2005, the population of the whole urban agglomeration which makes up greater Tokyo and environs is approximately 26.8 million. The population of all of Canada in the same year was approximately 32.6 million. Today, the bay in Tokyo is relatively clean, and so is the air. Smog days are rare; fishing in the rivers is again possible. Pollution in this huge city, has been cut dramatically. Garbage is incinerated, with zero emissions.
Let’s contrast this with Greater Toronto - a small city, just over 5 million. In 2004 we had 14 smog days. In 2005 we had 48. Of that, 50% is trans-border and trans-boundary pollution; but a huge 36% is caused by residential and commercial. April 19th, 2008 was the first warm day of the year, and interestingly enough was the first smog alert day in 2008. Now, of course, I am stringing a lot of things together - but for me it shows a trend.....and not a good one by the way. We don't want incinerators around, citing possible pollution, yet we send our garbage elsewhere to be dumped. And we think that's better?
I can never read the passage from Romans without thinking of the late Isaac Asimov. Asimov was a prolific writer, and a man who understood ecological responsibility long before the reset of us started to turn “green”. Asimov wrote a science fiction story about the planet as an organism in itself, and humans as a disease making the planet sick. Like all organisms, the planet’s immune system kicked in and it began to eliminate the diseased cells, in order to restore itself to health again. It isn’t that far out - as we make a mess of everything, in our own immediate interests - the reactions are coming more often. Asimov also wrote a non-fiction book called “Our Angry Earth”, in which he predicts that we have already gone too far, and now cannot reverse the damage.
What have we seen? Stronger and more frequent hurricanes, all over the world. Heavier snows in more unstable weather. More tornados and wild storms in the southern US. Tornado alley now in Ontario. Sea levels rising as the polar ice caps melt. And while there is some speculation that the sun has warmed a teeny bit, the data supports the conclusion that the bulk of carbon emissions causing this global warming are created by humans and our activities.
Indeed, the whole creation is groaning in labour pains. But what is to be born? A new generation of environmentalists? No. The Epistle to the Romans tells us that the creation awaits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God. Who is that? It's us, folks! The children of God are those who have been born of the spirit, and who honour God as parent and creation as the gift it was meant to be. The whole of creation awaits those who live not by the law of violence and greed, but by the law of love.
In the resurrection, new life as demonstrated in Jesus, God has also shown us that as children of creation, we have a role to play which is witness to the great love of God in creation. Jesus came as a witness to that love, and that creation. As Easter people we are called to no less.
We have a hymn in More Voices - Called by Earth and Sky.....
Called by earth and sky, promise of hope held high,
this is our sacred living trust, treasure of life sanctified.
Called by earth and sky.
Precious this gift, the air we breathe, wind born and free.
Breath of the Spirit, blow through this place, our gathering and our grace.
Called by earth and sky.
Precious these mountains, ancient sands; vast, fragile land.
Seeds of our wakening, rooted and strong, Creation’s faithful song.
Called by earth and sky.
Sources:
1. Sermon for Earth Day, by Rev. Franklin E. Vilas, Dmin. Preached on April 21, 2002 at St. Paul’s Church, Paterson, NJ.
2. Excerpts from “A Sticky Gospel”, by Rev. Christian Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling Illinois.
Sticky messages are memorable; sticky messages are useful and practical. They fit into our lives and make good sense. A “sticky message” stays with people, and compels them to respond and to act.
Gladwell looked at children’s television programs. Why, he wondered, do kids love Sesame Street and Blues Clues? Turns out that the people who created Sesame Street and Blues Clues
figured out how to make the message “sticky” with one simple idea: If you can hold the attention of children, you can educate them. The message on these programs is simple . It doesn’t have to be clever, but it does have to be literal and clear, and in the form of a story. Kids love to hear a story over and over again. They like stories to be repetitive, because the story is a new experience each time they hear it. “Sticky messages” show us that there is a simple way to package a message. So we have “stickies”.
Listen to words from John: “See what love God has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.”
In Romans 8, Paul says: "We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now--- creation awaits with eager longing the revealing of the children of God.”
"The whole creation has been groaning in labour pains until now..creation awaits the revealing of the children of God." From its earliest days, the human race has sought to control the natural world, to bend it to whatever purpose we determine should be used for our benefit. Rather than being seen as a gift from God, in the last couple of centuries particularly, it has become nothing more than a commodity, something to be used as a means of profit. Every year thousands of species of God's creatures - all part of creation - have become extinct at the hands of the human race.
“As international corporations have moved into poor nations, the natural resources have been taken and the environment has often been poisoned in the process. The result is not just damage to the earth and the creatures of the earth, but to human beings as well. I believe that by the latest count of the United Nations, 12 million children under the age of six die every year over the world. Many are killed in conflicts - Afghanistan and the Middle East-- but most of them die from starvation, polluted water or other environmentally caused conditions and diseases. While this is happening, the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. In 2009, the gap between the richest people in the world and the poorest has never been greater - and that gap is expanding.”
You cannot have healthy people on a sick earth-- and not only nature but the human race is groaning like a woman in labour. When I first went to Japan in 1970 - the city of Tokyo was approximately 16.5 million people. The bay was so full of sludge that there were bets as to what would happen if a plane taking off Haneda, which was the airport then - landed in the bay. It was ugly - there were lines of demarkation in the water as the sediment and pollution got thicker and thicker. Most days you could not see a block down the street - and I was introduced to allergies and smog. As of 2005, the population of the whole urban agglomeration which makes up greater Tokyo and environs is approximately 26.8 million. The population of all of Canada in the same year was approximately 32.6 million. Today, the bay in Tokyo is relatively clean, and so is the air. Smog days are rare; fishing in the rivers is again possible. Pollution in this huge city, has been cut dramatically. Garbage is incinerated, with zero emissions.
Let’s contrast this with Greater Toronto - a small city, just over 5 million. In 2004 we had 14 smog days. In 2005 we had 48. Of that, 50% is trans-border and trans-boundary pollution; but a huge 36% is caused by residential and commercial. April 19th, 2008 was the first warm day of the year, and interestingly enough was the first smog alert day in 2008. Now, of course, I am stringing a lot of things together - but for me it shows a trend.....and not a good one by the way. We don't want incinerators around, citing possible pollution, yet we send our garbage elsewhere to be dumped. And we think that's better?
I can never read the passage from Romans without thinking of the late Isaac Asimov. Asimov was a prolific writer, and a man who understood ecological responsibility long before the reset of us started to turn “green”. Asimov wrote a science fiction story about the planet as an organism in itself, and humans as a disease making the planet sick. Like all organisms, the planet’s immune system kicked in and it began to eliminate the diseased cells, in order to restore itself to health again. It isn’t that far out - as we make a mess of everything, in our own immediate interests - the reactions are coming more often. Asimov also wrote a non-fiction book called “Our Angry Earth”, in which he predicts that we have already gone too far, and now cannot reverse the damage.
What have we seen? Stronger and more frequent hurricanes, all over the world. Heavier snows in more unstable weather. More tornados and wild storms in the southern US. Tornado alley now in Ontario. Sea levels rising as the polar ice caps melt. And while there is some speculation that the sun has warmed a teeny bit, the data supports the conclusion that the bulk of carbon emissions causing this global warming are created by humans and our activities.
Indeed, the whole creation is groaning in labour pains. But what is to be born? A new generation of environmentalists? No. The Epistle to the Romans tells us that the creation awaits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God. Who is that? It's us, folks! The children of God are those who have been born of the spirit, and who honour God as parent and creation as the gift it was meant to be. The whole of creation awaits those who live not by the law of violence and greed, but by the law of love.
In the resurrection, new life as demonstrated in Jesus, God has also shown us that as children of creation, we have a role to play which is witness to the great love of God in creation. Jesus came as a witness to that love, and that creation. As Easter people we are called to no less.
We have a hymn in More Voices - Called by Earth and Sky.....
Called by earth and sky, promise of hope held high,
this is our sacred living trust, treasure of life sanctified.
Called by earth and sky.
Precious this gift, the air we breathe, wind born and free.
Breath of the Spirit, blow through this place, our gathering and our grace.
Called by earth and sky.
Precious these mountains, ancient sands; vast, fragile land.
Seeds of our wakening, rooted and strong, Creation’s faithful song.
Called by earth and sky.
Sources:
1. Sermon for Earth Day, by Rev. Franklin E. Vilas, Dmin. Preached on April 21, 2002 at St. Paul’s Church, Paterson, NJ.
2. Excerpts from “A Sticky Gospel”, by Rev. Christian Berry, First Presbyterian Church, Sterling Illinois.
Holy Humour Sunday April 19, 2009
Last Sunday we didn't have a sermon, but rather jokes and fooling in our service. Here is the bulletin from that celebration. Our general "theme" was cruising and ships.
Feast of Fools Day!!!!!
Holy Hilarity Sunday!!!!!!
Bright Sunday!!!!!!
“Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said to himself ‘Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Can Sarah who is ninety years old, bear a child?’” Genesis 17:17
“A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.” Ecclesiastes 3:4
Boarding the Ship
Call to Worship
Alleluia! Jesus is risen!!
The joke is on the Devil, the whole world laughs!
Death has been defeated by life.
The joke’s on death. Let joy ring out!
Alleluia! Come celebrate!
We come, to worship, to laugh and play, to celebrate.
*Opening Hymn “Easter Celebrations” (To the tune Jesus Christ is Risen Today)
Rising early in the morn, Alleluia!
Smiling at the Easter dawn, Alleluia!
Lent is o’er, the fast is done, Alleluia!
Now is time for food and fun, Alleluia!
After Mass we fill our glass, Alleluia!
Hunt for eggs in the long grass, Alleluia!
It’s a day to dance and sing, Alleluia!
For we greet the Easter spring, Alleluia!
All the want that we’ve endured, Alleluia!
Now our shopping has procured, Alleluia!
Cake and sweets and chocolate things, Alleluia!
All washed down with many gins, Alleluia!
*Processing of the Easter Light
Cruising Together
Prayer of the Day (Together)
God of Delight and Merriment, thank you for the gift of laughter. As we open our mouths to smile or grin, open wide our hearts to your surprising joy. Tickle our funny bones, we pray. Poke holes in our too-serious outlook. Teach us to relish each moment. Sparkle spirit through our entire being, and infect every particle of creation with holy hilarity. We pray in the name of Jesus, whose rich, warm laughter surrounds us always.
*Hymn “Now Our Lent is Done” (to the tune of Now the Green Blade Rises)
Now the days have come when all our fast is done.
Holy Week is past us, pilgrims every one .
Strength, Christian, strength, for Easter now has dawned.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.
Forty days restraining from temptations wide.
Tastes and habits training, abstinence from pride.
Pleasure and pastimes we have put to scorn.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.
After mass this morning, homeward we will run.
Full of grace arisen, and an Easter bun.
Eggs wrapped in foil, and sherry on the lawn.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.
The Jokes of the People
Offering Our Thanks
Offering
Invitation to the Offering
Offering (All of our gifts will be brought to the table.)
Offering Hymn “Coffee, Coffee, Coffee” (to the tune of Holy, Holy, Holy)
Coffee, coffee, coffee, praise the strength of coffee.
Early in the morn we rise, with only thought of thee.
Served fresh or reheated, dark by thee defeated,
brewed black by perk, or drip, or instantly.
Though all else we scoff, we come to church for coffee;
if we’re late to congregate we come in time for thee.
Coffee our one ritual, drinking it habitual,
brewed black by perk, or drip or instantly.
Coffee the communion of our church’s union,
symbol of our sacred grounds, our one necessity.
Fell the holy power of our coffee hour,
brewed black by perk, or drip or instantly.
The Jokes of the People
Response “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah” (sing twice)
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
My oh my what a wonderful day,
plenty of sunshine going my way,
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay.
Mr. Bluebird’s on my shoulder,
It’s so grand, it’s actual,
highly satisfactual,
zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Wonderful feeling, wonderful day.
Going Back Down the Gangway to Land
The Jokes of the People
*Hymn “Joy to the World” VU 59
Blessing
I’d like to leave you with one last thought this morning. Beware of joy stealers and killjoys! They are everywhere! Keith Barnett wrote: “Nowhere is it told of the devil that he wants us to experience joy. Circumstances can rob us of our joy, if we allow them. Things and money certainly can be thieves of our joy. People can be the greatest thieves of all.” Don’t let circumstances, things or people rob you of your Easter Joy!!!!
We will celebrate Easter every day of our lives. Thanks be to God for resurrection and for life!!!! Alleluia!!!
Commissioning “Go Forth and Keep on Giggling” (to the tune of Sent Forth By God’s Blessing)
Go forth and keep on giggling, perhaps even trying wiggling,
we learn how to live more graciously when we lose face.
There’s nothing complicated in folks giving thanks for blessings,
in folks celebrating Jesus whose footsteps we trace.
Laughing frees us from pompous notions that we are
more special than other people in whom God’s light shines
as bright as in us. We make life so much harder
when we separate ourselves from the God
who will always feed us; so climb on the bus.
In large ways and in small ways, for straight people and for all gays,
God graciously opens windows of hope and new life.
Surprises all around us, unleash possibilities that
we never imagined could be achieved without strife.
Prejudice, animosity are completely eradicated and
we double over laughing, for Christ is alive.
So let us never waver for God holds us all in favour,
there’s good news for all Creation, and that ain’t no jive!
Hymns and prayers today are taken from:
The Pharisaios Journal, www.pharisaios.co.uk; The Fellowship of Merry Christians; materials collected by Rev. Sandra Sellars, Saskatchewan; and Rev. Terri Powell Bracy, Warren, Michigan.
Feast of Fools Day!!!!!
Holy Hilarity Sunday!!!!!!
Bright Sunday!!!!!!
“Then Abraham fell on his face and laughed, and said to himself ‘Can a child be born to a man who is a hundred years old? Can Sarah who is ninety years old, bear a child?’” Genesis 17:17
“A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.” Ecclesiastes 3:4
Boarding the Ship
Call to Worship
Alleluia! Jesus is risen!!
The joke is on the Devil, the whole world laughs!
Death has been defeated by life.
The joke’s on death. Let joy ring out!
Alleluia! Come celebrate!
We come, to worship, to laugh and play, to celebrate.
*Opening Hymn “Easter Celebrations” (To the tune Jesus Christ is Risen Today)
Rising early in the morn, Alleluia!
Smiling at the Easter dawn, Alleluia!
Lent is o’er, the fast is done, Alleluia!
Now is time for food and fun, Alleluia!
After Mass we fill our glass, Alleluia!
Hunt for eggs in the long grass, Alleluia!
It’s a day to dance and sing, Alleluia!
For we greet the Easter spring, Alleluia!
All the want that we’ve endured, Alleluia!
Now our shopping has procured, Alleluia!
Cake and sweets and chocolate things, Alleluia!
All washed down with many gins, Alleluia!
*Processing of the Easter Light
Cruising Together
Prayer of the Day (Together)
God of Delight and Merriment, thank you for the gift of laughter. As we open our mouths to smile or grin, open wide our hearts to your surprising joy. Tickle our funny bones, we pray. Poke holes in our too-serious outlook. Teach us to relish each moment. Sparkle spirit through our entire being, and infect every particle of creation with holy hilarity. We pray in the name of Jesus, whose rich, warm laughter surrounds us always.
*Hymn “Now Our Lent is Done” (to the tune of Now the Green Blade Rises)
Now the days have come when all our fast is done.
Holy Week is past us, pilgrims every one .
Strength, Christian, strength, for Easter now has dawned.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.
Forty days restraining from temptations wide.
Tastes and habits training, abstinence from pride.
Pleasure and pastimes we have put to scorn.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.
After mass this morning, homeward we will run.
Full of grace arisen, and an Easter bun.
Eggs wrapped in foil, and sherry on the lawn.
Now our Lent is done, and we have Easter morn.
The Jokes of the People
Offering Our Thanks
Offering
Invitation to the Offering
Offering (All of our gifts will be brought to the table.)
Offering Hymn “Coffee, Coffee, Coffee” (to the tune of Holy, Holy, Holy)
Coffee, coffee, coffee, praise the strength of coffee.
Early in the morn we rise, with only thought of thee.
Served fresh or reheated, dark by thee defeated,
brewed black by perk, or drip, or instantly.
Though all else we scoff, we come to church for coffee;
if we’re late to congregate we come in time for thee.
Coffee our one ritual, drinking it habitual,
brewed black by perk, or drip or instantly.
Coffee the communion of our church’s union,
symbol of our sacred grounds, our one necessity.
Fell the holy power of our coffee hour,
brewed black by perk, or drip or instantly.
The Jokes of the People
Response “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah” (sing twice)
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
My oh my what a wonderful day,
plenty of sunshine going my way,
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay.
Mr. Bluebird’s on my shoulder,
It’s so grand, it’s actual,
highly satisfactual,
zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay
Wonderful feeling, wonderful day.
Going Back Down the Gangway to Land
The Jokes of the People
*Hymn “Joy to the World” VU 59
Blessing
I’d like to leave you with one last thought this morning. Beware of joy stealers and killjoys! They are everywhere! Keith Barnett wrote: “Nowhere is it told of the devil that he wants us to experience joy. Circumstances can rob us of our joy, if we allow them. Things and money certainly can be thieves of our joy. People can be the greatest thieves of all.” Don’t let circumstances, things or people rob you of your Easter Joy!!!!
We will celebrate Easter every day of our lives. Thanks be to God for resurrection and for life!!!! Alleluia!!!
Commissioning “Go Forth and Keep on Giggling” (to the tune of Sent Forth By God’s Blessing)
Go forth and keep on giggling, perhaps even trying wiggling,
we learn how to live more graciously when we lose face.
There’s nothing complicated in folks giving thanks for blessings,
in folks celebrating Jesus whose footsteps we trace.
Laughing frees us from pompous notions that we are
more special than other people in whom God’s light shines
as bright as in us. We make life so much harder
when we separate ourselves from the God
who will always feed us; so climb on the bus.
In large ways and in small ways, for straight people and for all gays,
God graciously opens windows of hope and new life.
Surprises all around us, unleash possibilities that
we never imagined could be achieved without strife.
Prejudice, animosity are completely eradicated and
we double over laughing, for Christ is alive.
So let us never waver for God holds us all in favour,
there’s good news for all Creation, and that ain’t no jive!
Hymns and prayers today are taken from:
The Pharisaios Journal, www.pharisaios.co.uk; The Fellowship of Merry Christians; materials collected by Rev. Sandra Sellars, Saskatchewan; and Rev. Terri Powell Bracy, Warren, Michigan.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
"Is it Real?" Easter Sunday 2009 John 20:1-18, Gospel of Mary Ch. 9, Mark 16:1-8
MARY COMES TO THE TOMB
The wet earth clings to my feet
on this early morning errand
that weighs me down with death.
I have not slept; my food is tasteless;
my heart aches, aches.
How can it be in this fractured world
that morning still comes?
I wince as sparrows gather at my window, singing,
and I wish my own mind were so small that,
like these birds, it could not grasp
the barrenness of this bleakest dawn.
I am finished with love, dead as the tomb
that is my hopeless destination.
That place is sealed, shut tight as my soul,
yet I am drawn there.
For it is where I left my love behind.
I need to return, alone in my misery,
perhaps to find a shred of him
to carry in my fisted heart.
But someone else has already come.
Who is this that stands in the way
of my mourning?
A few weeks ago a friend of mine lost her husband to cancer. As we talked this week, some of what she said has echoed in my mind. She had never felt this kind of pain before in her life, she said, and didn’t know where to go with it. Because they knew it was coming, he and she together had been able to plan, and had time to say goodbye. But, she said, in the bereavement group she has met people who lost their loved ones suddenly and tragically, and didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.
Whether or not there was a chance to say goodbye, nothing will ever be the same again. It’s right about now, right at Easter, when my friend is asking deep in her very deepest soul, if resurrection is real - and if it is, what does it mean?
Well, to preach resurrection is also to preach about Good Friday, and a whole sequence of events.
Someone I know in the church once tried to suggest that we should preach only the good news of Easter, and leave Good Friday out of it. I am not of that persuasion. In my belief, Easter means nothing unless we go through the events of the previous days, however painful they are. Easter is, in a sense, a kind of “bipolar” celebration. We are in the process of grief because the one we love is gone, and yet we are ecstatic because we know that the one we love still lives on. We have to go through the Passover evening of Thursday, the crucifixion of Friday, the waiting through the Sabbath, and waking to an empty spot in a graveyard on Sunday morning - and then celebrating!
So we recap the story a little. Jesus had been brought to court and sentenced to death. His death was by crucifixion, the normal means of execution under the Roman occupation. The crucifixion happened on a Friday, which meant that the Sabbath began at sunset, and that fact complicated the burial. Normally, there would be a time of preparing the body with care. But since no one is allowed to work after the beginning of Sabbath, there was only enough time to find a tomb and bury him. No time to take the herbs and spices and wrap the body properly.
Two gospels are given us for texts this week - and I decided to play with them a little because they are so very different. In the Gospel of John, Mary first goes to the tomb alone, with no plan in mind. She just needs to be where Jesus was laid - to grieve and to think. When she finds the tomb empty she runs to Peter, who then runs to see, leaves again - and then Mary sees Jesus and speaks with him.
In Mark, Mary sets out on the first morning of the new week with two others, taking along the spices and herbs to dress the body. When she arrives, the tomb is open, the body is gone, and a young man in white tells her Jesus is no longer there, he is risen - but to go and tell the others. Mark’s Gospel ends there - they leave but don’t speak about it to anyone. They are afraid.
Now, both experiences were real to those people. In John’s Gospel Mary relays that she saw and spoke to Jesus - and indeed, even in the text outside the Bible, what we call the ‘extra-canonical’ texts - the Gospel of Mary - she talks about her experience and things Jesus said to her.
However, in Mark - the oldest of the four Gospels, none of this is included. Mark has three women going to the tomb to complete a ritual which should have been done prior to the burial. Jesus is gone, the three women are witnesses to that. They aren’t sure what has happened, but they surely don’t believe he is resurrected.
What was Mary thinking about? Seeing the stone moved, had she thought, "O look, someone took care of removing the stone for me!"? No - instead, she was frightened when she realised the stone wasn't where it was supposed to be. Without even looking in the tomb, she became concerned that she couldn't do what she came to do! I believe she was feeling that pain greater than any she had felt before, and she didn’t know where to go with it - so she went to the place where she believed he still was - to be as close to him as she possibly could. But she was frustrated in not being able to anoint the body - it would have been her goodbye, and even that chance was taken away from her. She couldn’t process it all, and she and the others ran away frightened.
In Mary’s cry “They have taken him and I do not know where they have laid him” is the cry of a woman in pain and confusion, not able to see how she is going to go on, going through motions of keeping busy, trying to do the things which would be normal because she can’t think of what else to do - and everything feels dead and empty.
Now the problem wasn't the empty tomb. The problem was what Mary, the women, Peter, John, all of them, were expecting to find. Both Peter and Mary came to the tomb expecting to find a corpse. When it wasn't there, they were confused. When John arrived at the tomb, he was looking for resurrection. He saw the cloths and walked away almost believing.
But all of them were asking one question - is it real? What is real about it? Did Jesus really come back, or is it a big hoax? The early Jews believed in resurrection at the “last day”, when the trumpet sounded and the dead would be raised. That whole belief was called into question. We still ask today, is it real? Every time someone close to us dies we ask it again.
Did Jesus really somehow miraculously get up and walk out of the tomb? No. I don’t think he came back and walked around looking like the Jesus they remembered. He died! I believe that is part of why Mary didn’t recognise the person she thought was a gardener. He died! His physical body died, but he lived. Is it real that our loved ones, who are gone from this world, live on in another way? I believe it is real. It isn’t a reality we can grasp, because it is different from this one, but just because we cannot see it or feel it or even touch it, doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Jesus’ physical body was not resuscitated, he didn’t get up and keep on going. But his spiritual person, that part of him who made Jesus who he was - that lived.
In his first letter to the church at Corinth, Paul spoke about resurrection. He wrote “But some ask, "How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?" How foolish! What you plant does not come to life unless it first dies. When you plant a crop, you do not plant the body that will be, but a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. God gives it a body; to each kind of seed its own body. All flesh is not the same: people have one kind of flesh, animals have another, birds and fish another. There are also heavenly and earthly bodies; the splendour of the heavenly bodies is one kind, the splendour of the earthly bodies is another. The sun has one kind of splendour, the moon another and the stars another; and star differs from star in splendour.
So it is with resurrection. The body that is sown is perishable, but is raised imperishable; .......it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.”
So yes, it is real. Resurrection is real. The pain of parting, the pain of living after a loved one has died, does not go away. But resurrection is part of our faith. These early witnesses - the other disciple, Peter, and Mary Magdalene - remind us that coming to faith is not an assembly line product but a dynamic process; faith comes through a complex of interactions between our personalities, contexts and histories. Whether through an immediate decision to encounter resurrection, or through a long and circuitous route, God will lead us home to that incredible mystery.
Good News for Easter, good news for all those Easters in our lives...that was the message of the first morning, and the message this morning as we go about life again. Hallelujah!
Sources:
1. Poem by Rev. Timothy Haut, Deep River, Connecticut
2. Material from the sermons “Looking for the Wrong Thing in the Wrong Place” by Rev. Randy Quinn; “Why are You Weeping?” by Rev. Thomas Hall.
3. Gospel of Mary: Papyrus Berolensis 8052, Papyrus Oxyrhyncus. Contained in the Nag Hammadi Library.
The wet earth clings to my feet
on this early morning errand
that weighs me down with death.
I have not slept; my food is tasteless;
my heart aches, aches.
How can it be in this fractured world
that morning still comes?
I wince as sparrows gather at my window, singing,
and I wish my own mind were so small that,
like these birds, it could not grasp
the barrenness of this bleakest dawn.
I am finished with love, dead as the tomb
that is my hopeless destination.
That place is sealed, shut tight as my soul,
yet I am drawn there.
For it is where I left my love behind.
I need to return, alone in my misery,
perhaps to find a shred of him
to carry in my fisted heart.
But someone else has already come.
Who is this that stands in the way
of my mourning?
A few weeks ago a friend of mine lost her husband to cancer. As we talked this week, some of what she said has echoed in my mind. She had never felt this kind of pain before in her life, she said, and didn’t know where to go with it. Because they knew it was coming, he and she together had been able to plan, and had time to say goodbye. But, she said, in the bereavement group she has met people who lost their loved ones suddenly and tragically, and didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye.
Whether or not there was a chance to say goodbye, nothing will ever be the same again. It’s right about now, right at Easter, when my friend is asking deep in her very deepest soul, if resurrection is real - and if it is, what does it mean?
Well, to preach resurrection is also to preach about Good Friday, and a whole sequence of events.
Someone I know in the church once tried to suggest that we should preach only the good news of Easter, and leave Good Friday out of it. I am not of that persuasion. In my belief, Easter means nothing unless we go through the events of the previous days, however painful they are. Easter is, in a sense, a kind of “bipolar” celebration. We are in the process of grief because the one we love is gone, and yet we are ecstatic because we know that the one we love still lives on. We have to go through the Passover evening of Thursday, the crucifixion of Friday, the waiting through the Sabbath, and waking to an empty spot in a graveyard on Sunday morning - and then celebrating!
So we recap the story a little. Jesus had been brought to court and sentenced to death. His death was by crucifixion, the normal means of execution under the Roman occupation. The crucifixion happened on a Friday, which meant that the Sabbath began at sunset, and that fact complicated the burial. Normally, there would be a time of preparing the body with care. But since no one is allowed to work after the beginning of Sabbath, there was only enough time to find a tomb and bury him. No time to take the herbs and spices and wrap the body properly.
Two gospels are given us for texts this week - and I decided to play with them a little because they are so very different. In the Gospel of John, Mary first goes to the tomb alone, with no plan in mind. She just needs to be where Jesus was laid - to grieve and to think. When she finds the tomb empty she runs to Peter, who then runs to see, leaves again - and then Mary sees Jesus and speaks with him.
In Mark, Mary sets out on the first morning of the new week with two others, taking along the spices and herbs to dress the body. When she arrives, the tomb is open, the body is gone, and a young man in white tells her Jesus is no longer there, he is risen - but to go and tell the others. Mark’s Gospel ends there - they leave but don’t speak about it to anyone. They are afraid.
Now, both experiences were real to those people. In John’s Gospel Mary relays that she saw and spoke to Jesus - and indeed, even in the text outside the Bible, what we call the ‘extra-canonical’ texts - the Gospel of Mary - she talks about her experience and things Jesus said to her.
However, in Mark - the oldest of the four Gospels, none of this is included. Mark has three women going to the tomb to complete a ritual which should have been done prior to the burial. Jesus is gone, the three women are witnesses to that. They aren’t sure what has happened, but they surely don’t believe he is resurrected.
What was Mary thinking about? Seeing the stone moved, had she thought, "O look, someone took care of removing the stone for me!"? No - instead, she was frightened when she realised the stone wasn't where it was supposed to be. Without even looking in the tomb, she became concerned that she couldn't do what she came to do! I believe she was feeling that pain greater than any she had felt before, and she didn’t know where to go with it - so she went to the place where she believed he still was - to be as close to him as she possibly could. But she was frustrated in not being able to anoint the body - it would have been her goodbye, and even that chance was taken away from her. She couldn’t process it all, and she and the others ran away frightened.
In Mary’s cry “They have taken him and I do not know where they have laid him” is the cry of a woman in pain and confusion, not able to see how she is going to go on, going through motions of keeping busy, trying to do the things which would be normal because she can’t think of what else to do - and everything feels dead and empty.
Now the problem wasn't the empty tomb. The problem was what Mary, the women, Peter, John, all of them, were expecting to find. Both Peter and Mary came to the tomb expecting to find a corpse. When it wasn't there, they were confused. When John arrived at the tomb, he was looking for resurrection. He saw the cloths and walked away almost believing.
But all of them were asking one question - is it real? What is real about it? Did Jesus really come back, or is it a big hoax? The early Jews believed in resurrection at the “last day”, when the trumpet sounded and the dead would be raised. That whole belief was called into question. We still ask today, is it real? Every time someone close to us dies we ask it again.
Did Jesus really somehow miraculously get up and walk out of the tomb? No. I don’t think he came back and walked around looking like the Jesus they remembered. He died! I believe that is part of why Mary didn’t recognise the person she thought was a gardener. He died! His physical body died, but he lived. Is it real that our loved ones, who are gone from this world, live on in another way? I believe it is real. It isn’t a reality we can grasp, because it is different from this one, but just because we cannot see it or feel it or even touch it, doesn’t mean it isn’t real. Jesus’ physical body was not resuscitated, he didn’t get up and keep on going. But his spiritual person, that part of him who made Jesus who he was - that lived.
In his first letter to the church at Corinth, Paul spoke about resurrection. He wrote “But some ask, "How are the dead raised? With what kind of body will they come?" How foolish! What you plant does not come to life unless it first dies. When you plant a crop, you do not plant the body that will be, but a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else. God gives it a body; to each kind of seed its own body. All flesh is not the same: people have one kind of flesh, animals have another, birds and fish another. There are also heavenly and earthly bodies; the splendour of the heavenly bodies is one kind, the splendour of the earthly bodies is another. The sun has one kind of splendour, the moon another and the stars another; and star differs from star in splendour.
So it is with resurrection. The body that is sown is perishable, but is raised imperishable; .......it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.”
So yes, it is real. Resurrection is real. The pain of parting, the pain of living after a loved one has died, does not go away. But resurrection is part of our faith. These early witnesses - the other disciple, Peter, and Mary Magdalene - remind us that coming to faith is not an assembly line product but a dynamic process; faith comes through a complex of interactions between our personalities, contexts and histories. Whether through an immediate decision to encounter resurrection, or through a long and circuitous route, God will lead us home to that incredible mystery.
Good News for Easter, good news for all those Easters in our lives...that was the message of the first morning, and the message this morning as we go about life again. Hallelujah!
Sources:
1. Poem by Rev. Timothy Haut, Deep River, Connecticut
2. Material from the sermons “Looking for the Wrong Thing in the Wrong Place” by Rev. Randy Quinn; “Why are You Weeping?” by Rev. Thomas Hall.
3. Gospel of Mary: Papyrus Berolensis 8052, Papyrus Oxyrhyncus. Contained in the Nag Hammadi Library.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Parades and Purposes - Palm Sunday 2009 A Haggadah
Sixth in a series based on "Christianity for the Rest of Us" by Diana Butler Bass
Mark 11:1-11
As they came closer to Jerusalem, they rested at Bethphage and Bethany near the Mount of Olives. Jesus sent two disciples ahead, and told them "Go to the village ahead of you. Just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it back. If anyone asks you why, say that 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.' " They went, and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, some people asked, "What are you doing?" They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go. They brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it so he could ride it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields. Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted,
"Hosanna!"
"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"
"Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!"
"Hosanna in the highest!"
******************************************************************************
Jesus wandered away from the others into a small field and sat down wearily under a tree in the shade. Two disciples had gone off to look for the colt, the others were flopped about, tired and napping a little. He needed some space to collect his energy. The time was coming, events were moving inevitably to a violent end. He knew some of the disciples had already figured it out, but were hoping against hope that something would happen which would change everything for the better. He also knew they weren’t expressing their fears to him. He had tried to speak to them, but it seemed like they didn’t want to hear it. He felt so alone, as if even God had left him. He wanted to go to Gethsemane, where he was always at peace, and just clear his head.
He thought back over the short three years of ministry. What a struggle that had been. He had spent years trying to avoid the call, but God would not let go. In that insistent way, God kept nudging him. John, his cousin, was executed, and someone had to step in - and he knew John expected it would be him. The religious leaders had become too accustomed to the power they wielded, the politics of living under Roman rule. They had to be called back to the law of God. When he finally accepted the call, and went to be baptised, it was the hardest thing he had ever done. Yet he knew in his heart that it was the right thing to do. He had a call. It would require all his strength and courage. It would mean working from the ground up to encourage people to re-assess their lives and their ways. The religious leaders would not be happy. They enjoyed a position and power, which Pontius Pilate and Herod allowed to continue so long as they didn’t try to rock the political boat.
As he sat there thinking, the faces of people in his life rose in front of him - a blind man who learned to see, a leper who learned to live beyond the restraints of an ignorant society, a woman by a well, a woman who touched the hem of his cloak, people on a hillside sitting in the sun listening, Peter, Mary - dear Mary who stayed by him when everyone else questioned. The people everywhere, wanting part of him. He never really understood the strange power he had to make things happen, but he didn’t doubt that it came from God. Nevertheless, sometimes he wished it would go away, so he could just return to Sepphoris and Nazareth, keep on working as a builder and have a normal life. Ministry on the road was anything but normal.
He fell asleep in the warmth and the gentle air.
******************************************************************
The two disciples returned with the colt, but not wanting to wake him, set out some water from the well, and tied the colt again under a tree.
As Jesus awoke, and saw the colt there, the whole of reality came rushing back in on him again. As he glanced at the angle of the sun, he realised it was time to move so he could get into Jerusalem and see the temple before going out again for the night.
As usual, as soon as people knew he was around, the crowds began to gather. The disciple spread a couple of cloaks on the colt, and Jesus mounted. Peter led the colt, and the others walked alongside. People by the road began to spread their cloaks in the path. Some of the people cut branches off the trees and bushes along the road, threw them in the road, and waved them in the air as he passed, with shouts of “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is the one who comes in God’s name!” and “He is the one who will save us!”
Listening to the crowds, he wondered. He had thought ministry was about transforming lives. He thought some had been transformed - at least, certainly the people he had touched, and who had touched him. But the temple and the leaders, would they have been transformed? Would they remember to live the spirit of the law rather than hiding behind their own interpretation of the letter? Would they put their own safety and comfort first, or would they listen and reach out to the community around them?
He knew that even as he came into Jerusalem through the lower gate, the equivalent of the servant’s entrance, Pilate and his centurions would be riding in on their huge horses through the upper gate, making as big an impression as possible, making it clear to the Jewish population that no insurgency would be tolerated this Passover.
So here he was, in a parade. Riding into the city, up to the temple, being cheered and hailed as a messiah, the one who would free people from the Romans and take back the city. Why had he ever started out on this strange journey called ministry? The road ahead was murky - oh he could see literally to Jerusalem, but would it end with violence? Or would it end with transformation of lives and people? What was really the purpose? He had touched many lives, he knew that. But people being people tended to drift into comfort zones rather than pushing the edges. He had thought his purpose was transformation, and yet he couldn’t see it really happening. In three short years he had worked hard to heal people’s pain, bring them hope and optimism, give them purpose. How could he do that if he wasn’t sure of his own purpose? And when he left them, would they unite as one? Would they understand what he had meant as he taught them? Would they be able to carry on, or just wander off to their own lives again?
Sighing again, he put those thoughts out of his mind, pushed the doubts away, and smiled at the crowds.
Mark 11:1-11
As they came closer to Jerusalem, they rested at Bethphage and Bethany near the Mount of Olives. Jesus sent two disciples ahead, and told them "Go to the village ahead of you. Just as you enter it, you will find a colt tied there, which no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it back. If anyone asks you why, say that 'The Lord needs it and will send it back here shortly.' " They went, and found a colt outside in the street, tied at a doorway. As they untied it, some people asked, "What are you doing?" They answered as Jesus had told them to, and the people let them go. They brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks over it so he could ride it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, while others spread branches they had cut in the fields. Those who went ahead and those who followed shouted,
"Hosanna!"
"Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!"
"Blessed is the coming kingdom of our father David!"
"Hosanna in the highest!"
******************************************************************************
Jesus wandered away from the others into a small field and sat down wearily under a tree in the shade. Two disciples had gone off to look for the colt, the others were flopped about, tired and napping a little. He needed some space to collect his energy. The time was coming, events were moving inevitably to a violent end. He knew some of the disciples had already figured it out, but were hoping against hope that something would happen which would change everything for the better. He also knew they weren’t expressing their fears to him. He had tried to speak to them, but it seemed like they didn’t want to hear it. He felt so alone, as if even God had left him. He wanted to go to Gethsemane, where he was always at peace, and just clear his head.
He thought back over the short three years of ministry. What a struggle that had been. He had spent years trying to avoid the call, but God would not let go. In that insistent way, God kept nudging him. John, his cousin, was executed, and someone had to step in - and he knew John expected it would be him. The religious leaders had become too accustomed to the power they wielded, the politics of living under Roman rule. They had to be called back to the law of God. When he finally accepted the call, and went to be baptised, it was the hardest thing he had ever done. Yet he knew in his heart that it was the right thing to do. He had a call. It would require all his strength and courage. It would mean working from the ground up to encourage people to re-assess their lives and their ways. The religious leaders would not be happy. They enjoyed a position and power, which Pontius Pilate and Herod allowed to continue so long as they didn’t try to rock the political boat.
As he sat there thinking, the faces of people in his life rose in front of him - a blind man who learned to see, a leper who learned to live beyond the restraints of an ignorant society, a woman by a well, a woman who touched the hem of his cloak, people on a hillside sitting in the sun listening, Peter, Mary - dear Mary who stayed by him when everyone else questioned. The people everywhere, wanting part of him. He never really understood the strange power he had to make things happen, but he didn’t doubt that it came from God. Nevertheless, sometimes he wished it would go away, so he could just return to Sepphoris and Nazareth, keep on working as a builder and have a normal life. Ministry on the road was anything but normal.
He fell asleep in the warmth and the gentle air.
******************************************************************
The two disciples returned with the colt, but not wanting to wake him, set out some water from the well, and tied the colt again under a tree.
As Jesus awoke, and saw the colt there, the whole of reality came rushing back in on him again. As he glanced at the angle of the sun, he realised it was time to move so he could get into Jerusalem and see the temple before going out again for the night.
As usual, as soon as people knew he was around, the crowds began to gather. The disciple spread a couple of cloaks on the colt, and Jesus mounted. Peter led the colt, and the others walked alongside. People by the road began to spread their cloaks in the path. Some of the people cut branches off the trees and bushes along the road, threw them in the road, and waved them in the air as he passed, with shouts of “Hosanna!” and “Blessed is the one who comes in God’s name!” and “He is the one who will save us!”
Listening to the crowds, he wondered. He had thought ministry was about transforming lives. He thought some had been transformed - at least, certainly the people he had touched, and who had touched him. But the temple and the leaders, would they have been transformed? Would they remember to live the spirit of the law rather than hiding behind their own interpretation of the letter? Would they put their own safety and comfort first, or would they listen and reach out to the community around them?
He knew that even as he came into Jerusalem through the lower gate, the equivalent of the servant’s entrance, Pilate and his centurions would be riding in on their huge horses through the upper gate, making as big an impression as possible, making it clear to the Jewish population that no insurgency would be tolerated this Passover.
So here he was, in a parade. Riding into the city, up to the temple, being cheered and hailed as a messiah, the one who would free people from the Romans and take back the city. Why had he ever started out on this strange journey called ministry? The road ahead was murky - oh he could see literally to Jerusalem, but would it end with violence? Or would it end with transformation of lives and people? What was really the purpose? He had touched many lives, he knew that. But people being people tended to drift into comfort zones rather than pushing the edges. He had thought his purpose was transformation, and yet he couldn’t see it really happening. In three short years he had worked hard to heal people’s pain, bring them hope and optimism, give them purpose. How could he do that if he wasn’t sure of his own purpose? And when he left them, would they unite as one? Would they understand what he had meant as he taught them? Would they be able to carry on, or just wander off to their own lives again?
Sighing again, he put those thoughts out of his mind, pushed the doubts away, and smiled at the crowds.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Promises and Reflection Fifth Sunday in Lent Psalm 51:1-12
Fifth in a series based on Christianity for the Rest of s, by Diana Butler Bass
This week’s lectionary texts deal with two things in our spiritual lives - God’s commitment to us as we grow in faith, and our prayer to God to help us grow in faith. Coincidentally the two chapters in the book we are studying deal with reflection and beauty. Rather than preach a whole sermon today, we are going to do a different exercise - I am going to give you a few quotes from the book, and then we are going to break into smaller groups and talk to each other.
You might remember that when our Presbytery came to look at congregational life in Glen Ayr, one of the recommendations of that visit was that as a congregation we needed to spend more time in reflection on who we are, and in spiritual education and development. Now, most congregations tend to think that if they show up on Sunday morning, and maybe attend a Bible study once in a while, where the minister tells them what the Bible says, they are getting a spiritual education, and growing in faith. That isn’t true. Yes, the minister is a teacher, called for a certain expertise in interpretation and theology, but there is more to Christian development.
Here’s a bit from “Christianity for the Rest of Us”, a book about how mainline churches are quietly transforming themselves and becoming part of the neighborhood again. This is a quote:
‘The Christian life of the mind is not, however, merely some disembodied or mystical experience. “What got me excited when I first came [to this church]” said one Florida Methodist, “was that God was very real here, that it wasn’t just words. People really, really meant what they were doing.” Along with theological generosity, the practice of reflection in the congregations on my journey expressed the active intellect. The people I met clearly loved words and ideas, but the strove to connect words with action, to authenticate words by works of mercy and justice.”
Another church goer commented that “theological reflection taught her that learning about Christianity was not enough, you have to learn Christianity.”
An Arizona man said “God didn’t ask us to check our intellect in the parking lot when we drove in and the service started.”
...and in fact, I would observe, God created our intellect, and intended for us to use it, not just to reflect on everything else, but reflect on ourselves too. Theological reflection - a practice of using our faith to reflect on life, and using our life to reflect on faith.
So this morning, I want us together in small groups to do some theological reflection (slide into groups of four or five). What I would like you to do is use Psalm 51 (printed in the bulletin). Read it quietly to yourselves for awhile, and think about what the words might mean to you. I will give you a few minutes to do this. Then, in your groups, as you feel comfortable, please reflect with others on what this passage might mean for you in your life today.
Sources: Diana Butler Bass “Christianity for the Rest of Us” , pp. 187 and 191.
This week’s lectionary texts deal with two things in our spiritual lives - God’s commitment to us as we grow in faith, and our prayer to God to help us grow in faith. Coincidentally the two chapters in the book we are studying deal with reflection and beauty. Rather than preach a whole sermon today, we are going to do a different exercise - I am going to give you a few quotes from the book, and then we are going to break into smaller groups and talk to each other.
You might remember that when our Presbytery came to look at congregational life in Glen Ayr, one of the recommendations of that visit was that as a congregation we needed to spend more time in reflection on who we are, and in spiritual education and development. Now, most congregations tend to think that if they show up on Sunday morning, and maybe attend a Bible study once in a while, where the minister tells them what the Bible says, they are getting a spiritual education, and growing in faith. That isn’t true. Yes, the minister is a teacher, called for a certain expertise in interpretation and theology, but there is more to Christian development.
Here’s a bit from “Christianity for the Rest of Us”, a book about how mainline churches are quietly transforming themselves and becoming part of the neighborhood again. This is a quote:
‘The Christian life of the mind is not, however, merely some disembodied or mystical experience. “What got me excited when I first came [to this church]” said one Florida Methodist, “was that God was very real here, that it wasn’t just words. People really, really meant what they were doing.” Along with theological generosity, the practice of reflection in the congregations on my journey expressed the active intellect. The people I met clearly loved words and ideas, but the strove to connect words with action, to authenticate words by works of mercy and justice.”
Another church goer commented that “theological reflection taught her that learning about Christianity was not enough, you have to learn Christianity.”
An Arizona man said “God didn’t ask us to check our intellect in the parking lot when we drove in and the service started.”
...and in fact, I would observe, God created our intellect, and intended for us to use it, not just to reflect on everything else, but reflect on ourselves too. Theological reflection - a practice of using our faith to reflect on life, and using our life to reflect on faith.
So this morning, I want us together in small groups to do some theological reflection (slide into groups of four or five). What I would like you to do is use Psalm 51 (printed in the bulletin). Read it quietly to yourselves for awhile, and think about what the words might mean to you. I will give you a few minutes to do this. Then, in your groups, as you feel comfortable, please reflect with others on what this passage might mean for you in your life today.
Sources: Diana Butler Bass “Christianity for the Rest of Us” , pp. 187 and 191.
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