When they came to the other side, Elijah said to Elisha, “Tell me what I can do for you before I am taken away.” Elisha replied, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit and become your successor.”
“You have asked a difficult thing,” said Elijah. “If you see me when I am taken from you, then you will get your request. But if not, then you won’t.” As they were walking along and talking, suddenly a chariot of fire appeared, drawn by horses of fire. It drove between the two men, separating them, and Elijah was carried by a whirlwind into heaven. Elisha saw it and cried out, “My father! My father! I see the chariots and charioteers of Israel!” As they disappeared from sight, Elisha tore his clothes in distress. Elisha picked up Elijah’s cloak, which had fallen when he was taken up. Then he returned to the Jordan River, struck the water with Elijah’s cloak and cried out, “Where is the Lord, the God of Elijah?” Then the river divided, and Elisha went across.
Luke 9:57-62
As they were walking along, someone said to Jesus, “I will follow you wherever you go.”
Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens to live in, and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place even to lay his head.” He said to another person, “Come, follow me.” The man agreed, but he said, “Lord, first let me return home and bury my father.” But Jesus told him, “Let the spiritually dead bury their own dead! Your duty is to go and preach about the Kingdom of God.” Another said, “Yes, Lord, I will follow you, but first let me say good-bye to my family.” Jesus told him, “Anyone who puts a hand to the plow and then looks back is not fit for the Kingdom of God.”
****************************************
While I was working on this sermon yesterday afternoon, I was also watching one of the Star Trek movies, the Search for Spock. In the story Captain Spock has given up his life for the rest of the crew of the Enterprise, but before he died, he put his living spirit into safekeeping with the ship’s doctor, Leonard McCoy. In response, the crew essentially hijack their old ship and go in search of the physical body in order to rescue Spock. The physical and spiritual parts of Spock can be reunited, but not without significant physical and psychological danger to both people. Having explained the purpose and the risks, the Vulcan High Priestess says to McCoy “The danger to thyself is grave, but thee must make the choice.” McCoy responds “I choose the danger.”, and then mutters in an undertone, “Helluva time to ask!”.
A little later, Captain Kirk is discussing his choice to risk everything. Spock’s father says to him “But at what cost? Your ship, even your son!” The answer is telling. Kirk responds “If I hadn’t done it, the cost would have been my soul.”
Some people have no option for choice - unless that choice is to live or die. Sometimes they do not even have that choice. For us, choice is one of our freedoms. We can choose just about anything we wish, and some things we don’t. We can choose our friends, choose our spouses, choose what to eat, what to wear - to go to a movie or not, to travel, to read, to think. We can choose what to believe, choose if we want to eat or not, answer email or phone, read or watch TV. The times where we make choices are endless.
Many of us would likely say we are Christian by heritage - but at some point there is a choice we have to make too - and that choice is what discipleship means for us in this day and age, and if we are willing to accept the cost of discipleship - because discipleship costs: it costs from our pocketbooks, sure, but it costs far more in our everyday lives.
While Jesus was travelling, someone asked if he could go along. "I’ll go with you, wherever," he said. Jesus was pretty sharp to this would-be disciple: "Are you read to rough it? We don’t know where we are sleeping from day to day.” Jesus was probably able to tell from the man’s clothes whether or not he could do it.
He said to another "Follow me." That one said, "Sure, but first I have to make arrangements for my father’s funeral." Jesus’ response was a little cryptic - “Let the spiritually dead do the burying. Your business is life, not death. The message is critical - Announce God’s kingdom!"
Another one said, "I’m ready to follow you, Master, but first let me get things settled at home, and then I can come with you."
Jesus said, "Anyone who looks back has already lost. Seize the day. Go forward, regardless of risk"
In 1977 Oscar Romero was the bishop of El Salvador. At the time sharecroppers had no rights and rich landowners and the military kept each other in business. Priests who stood with the sharecroppers and fought back were considered "subversive."
It wasn’t long before this quiet priest became archbishop Romero. He was torn between sharecroppers and subversive priests who promoted violence, but on the other hand were the landowners, military, and President-elect. Then, a close priest friend of his was murdered, and he went to the village where the president-elect had closed that priest’s church. The militia had turned it into a barracks. Romero simply said he was there to take the Eucharist - the soldier opened fire on the cross and the altar. Romero left, but came back - put on his clerical robes, and then resolutely set his face toward the church; two priests joined him, then the village people. Romero and the people walked into the church, and Romero cried out, "I have come to retake possession of the church, to strengthen those who the enemies have trampled."
Romero, a priest, had not realised where following Jesus might lead him. The learned Romero knew intellectually about Jesus, but the man who took back the church knew personally the human cost of discipleship, and in the end it led to his assassination..
Well, we aren’t Jesus, or Romero. Most days we just do our jobs, and then go home and have a life with family. But Jesus, Elisha, Romero, and the fictional characters of Spock, Kirk and McCoy know that the decisions are not easy and often go against accepted logic. It may mean going against our culture, giving up a good job as captain of a starship; it might even mean doing something totally contrary to what or families might ask or expect. It is a choice between the good and the best.
Nowadays, most churches don’t talk a lot about discipleship. We are suspicious of those religious groups which do. But the reality is that it’s not possible to be a Christian without being a disciple. Just saying we are Christian, and showing up at church - is only the first step. Discipleship - following Jesus wherever that might lead - is a difficult choice - but it is a choice between the good, and the best. Jesus calls us to sleep in the hard places, to stick our necks out in the difficult times, to take risks.
Is there any good news here? Of course - the good news is that if we take up the mantle left behind, God goes with us no matter what the risk. Jesus left his mantle behind; it is our role to choose to pick up the mantle and follow - wherever that leads.
Sources:
1. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
Star Trek III: The Search for Spock
2. An Easy Choice? Homily based on Luke 9:51-62 by Rev. Thomas Hall
3. http://www.victorshepherd.on.ca/Heritage/Oscar%20Romero.htm
4. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/%C3%93scar_Romero
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
“Power” Galatians 3:26-29; Matthew 22:35 – 36; 23:1-13 Glen Ayr United Church June 20, 2010
Galatians
For you are all children of God through faith in Jesus. All who have been united with Christ in baptism have put on Christ, like putting on new clothes. There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Jesus. And now that you belong to Jesus, you are the true children of Abraham. You are his heirs, and God’s promise to Abraham belongs to you.
Matthew
“Don’t let anyone call you ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one teacher, and all of you are equal as brothers and sisters. Don’t address anyone here on earth as ‘Father,’ for only God in heaven is your spiritual Father. Don’t let anyone call you ‘Teacher,’ for you have only one teacher, the Messiah. The greatest among you must be a servant. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.
“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter either.”
******************************************************************************
“There will always be free thinkers and heretics, unless we deal with the root of the problem. It is our duty to protect the children from the corrupting influence of dust, and nurture a generation at peace with itself, one which will never question authority again. We owe it to the young, do we not?”
So says the Magisterial Emissary, in the story “The Golden Compass”.
The Golden Compass, part of a trilogy of stories by author Philip Pullman, follows the young protagonist, Lyra Belacqua through her world in an effort to find and save her friends Bill and Roger. In Lyra’s universe, there are witches and armoured polar bears; yet, like our world, there is also a broad range of studies involving particle physics, philosophy, theology and spirituality.
In Lyra’s world, people’s souls are external to their body, an animal-shaped "dæmon" that always stays near its human counterpart. During childhood, a dæmon can change its shape at will, but with the onset of adolescence it settles into a single form which reveals the person's true nature and personality, implying that nature and personality stabilise after adolescence.
The Magisterium is the equivalent of the religious leaders of the church in this parallel world. The Magisterium exerts a strong control over this world, and wishes to control everything. Their greatest fear is people who do not accept the dogma and doctrine, and think outside the box.
Under the direction of the Magisterium, a group known as the Oblation Board kidnaps children and subjects them to a process called “intercision”, whereby the daemon and the human are literally separated by a laser guillotine. This renders the human unable to think independently, and removes their ability to care. The same is true for the daemon soul.
The children who are kidnapped are sent to an “experimental station”, far north on the island of Svalbard, where they are essentially in a boarding school where experiments can be conducted on them without their parents around. Those who try to run away are caught an punished. They come mostly from a nomadic group of sea people, or poorer people who are indigenous to the land. Children of wealthy or educated people do not get taken, and don’t have their daemons removed.
Now - it’s important to note that the word daemons in this case is quite different than our word “demon”. The words daemon, dæmon, are Latinized spellings of the Greek used to distinguish the daemons of Hellenistic religion and philosophy, good or malevolent "supernatural beings between mortals and gods, from the Judeo-Christian usage demon. In his writing “Theogony”, the poet Hesiod relates how the men of the Golden Age were transmuted into daemons by the will of Zeus, to serve as ineffable guardians of mortals. Their function is that of the soul.
In the 19th century, the Canadian government believed that the best chance for aboriginal peoples to succeed was to learn English, and adopt Christianity. Ideally, they would pass their adopted lifestyle on to their children, hence abolishing any native traditions within a few generations.
This policy was known as "aggressive assimilation". The government of Canad provided the funding, and the churches managed what were first called industrial schools, and later residential schools. Children were easier to mould than adults, so children of aboriginal peoples were forcibly removed from their families, taken to the schools where they were required to speak English, not allowed to speak their native tongue, and forced to accept the Christian God. Many were beaten and punished if they spoke their own language. Those who tried to run away were caught and punished. Many committed suicide.
Residential schools were federally run, under the Department of Indian Affairs. Attendance was mandatory. Agents were employed by the government to ensure all native children attended.
At first there were about 69 schools operating, but by 1931, at the peak of the residential school system, there were about 80 schools operating in Canada. All together, 130 schools operated in every territory and province except Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick from the earliest in the 19th century to the last, which closed in 1996. Approximately 150,000 aboriginal, Inuit and Métis children were removed from their communities and forced to attend the schools.
It was believed that native children could be successful if they assimilated into mainstream Canadian society by adopting Christianity and speaking English or French. Students were discouraged from speaking their first language or practising native traditions. If they were caught, they would experience severe punishment. They lived in substandard conditions, endured physical, emotional and sexual abuse. All correspondence was written in English, which many parents couldn't read. Brothers and sisters at the same school rarely saw each other, as all activities were segregated by gender.
In 1994, I had the privilege of sitting for a day listening to aboriginal survivors of the residential schools. No one in that room left the same person. I heard more than one person say their soul had been ripped out of them.
In Lyra’s parallel universe, the Magisterium covers up its lust for power and control by claiming that what they are doing is for the good of those children they kidnap. - just a little cut, and then the children would be sent home. In reality, once the children are taken, they never return home. Life is literally never the same, for their souls have been taken from them. They practice a patronising and patriarchal system of religious teaching which removes any question of their authority.
Here in the real world of Canada, both the government and the churches practiced a patronising and patriarchal system of assimilation. There was a common, and quite racist belief, that aboriginal peoples were somehow “less” than white peoples. Perhaps there was a belief that by becoming Christian, and learning western ways, aboriginal peoples “put on new clothes” and became new people. I am being generous here. For I believe that while they may have said “in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek”, it was not a real commitment of faith. Galatians says clearly that everyone is equal in the sight of God, yet even today we can see that aboriginal peoples are still not seen as equal, either in the eyes of the church or the eyes of the various governments. Extinguishment of aboriginal rights and claims is very much still an item on the agenda. The fact remains that those aboriginal children and families were ripped apart in the name of the Christian God. Note that although hundreds of Chinese came to Canada in this period - and there is no doubt they were badly treated - they were not required to give up their language, religion or families. No other ethnic group has been treated quite as badly as the aboriginal peoples of Canada.
The words of Jesus in this rarely-read passage are important to remember. He is more than scathing of the religious leaders. Jesus says “Don’t let anyone call you ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one teacher, and all of you are equal as brothers and sisters. Don’t address anyone here on earth as ‘Father,’ for only God in heaven is your spiritual Father. Don’t let anyone call you ‘Teacher,’ for you have only one teacher, the Messiah. The greatest among you must be a servant. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.
“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter either.”
Two worlds, where children are taken and abused - where families of those who are deemed “lesser” are abused. Where a policy of extinguishment extends to particular cultures. Two worlds where religious leaders, more interested in control of thought and action, delude themselves that they have the way to enter the realm of God. In their need to exert power, and control, they deny others the opportunity to go there.
So after a delay of more than a year, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission begins in Winnipeg. It is not an end, and it will not solve everything. Native peoples are already saying that apologies are a step, this commission is another step, but they are also looking for justice to be done. Churches can take a strong role in supporting aboriginal peoples as they struggle to find that justice. Everyone is equal in the sight of God; we can do no less.
Sources:
1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daemon_%28classical_mythology%29
2. The Golden Compass (His Dark Materials). Philip Pullman. Alfred A. Knopf, New York, c. 2002.
3. CBC website - Residential Schools, Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
For you are all children of God through faith in Jesus. All who have been united with Christ in baptism have put on Christ, like putting on new clothes. There is no longer Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male and female. For you are all one in Jesus. And now that you belong to Jesus, you are the true children of Abraham. You are his heirs, and God’s promise to Abraham belongs to you.
Matthew
“Don’t let anyone call you ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one teacher, and all of you are equal as brothers and sisters. Don’t address anyone here on earth as ‘Father,’ for only God in heaven is your spiritual Father. Don’t let anyone call you ‘Teacher,’ for you have only one teacher, the Messiah. The greatest among you must be a servant. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.
“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter either.”
******************************************************************************
“There will always be free thinkers and heretics, unless we deal with the root of the problem. It is our duty to protect the children from the corrupting influence of dust, and nurture a generation at peace with itself, one which will never question authority again. We owe it to the young, do we not?”
So says the Magisterial Emissary, in the story “The Golden Compass”.
The Golden Compass, part of a trilogy of stories by author Philip Pullman, follows the young protagonist, Lyra Belacqua through her world in an effort to find and save her friends Bill and Roger. In Lyra’s universe, there are witches and armoured polar bears; yet, like our world, there is also a broad range of studies involving particle physics, philosophy, theology and spirituality.
In Lyra’s world, people’s souls are external to their body, an animal-shaped "dæmon" that always stays near its human counterpart. During childhood, a dæmon can change its shape at will, but with the onset of adolescence it settles into a single form which reveals the person's true nature and personality, implying that nature and personality stabilise after adolescence.
The Magisterium is the equivalent of the religious leaders of the church in this parallel world. The Magisterium exerts a strong control over this world, and wishes to control everything. Their greatest fear is people who do not accept the dogma and doctrine, and think outside the box.
Under the direction of the Magisterium, a group known as the Oblation Board kidnaps children and subjects them to a process called “intercision”, whereby the daemon and the human are literally separated by a laser guillotine. This renders the human unable to think independently, and removes their ability to care. The same is true for the daemon soul.
The children who are kidnapped are sent to an “experimental station”, far north on the island of Svalbard, where they are essentially in a boarding school where experiments can be conducted on them without their parents around. Those who try to run away are caught an punished. They come mostly from a nomadic group of sea people, or poorer people who are indigenous to the land. Children of wealthy or educated people do not get taken, and don’t have their daemons removed.
Now - it’s important to note that the word daemons in this case is quite different than our word “demon”. The words daemon, dæmon, are Latinized spellings of the Greek used to distinguish the daemons of Hellenistic religion and philosophy, good or malevolent "supernatural beings between mortals and gods, from the Judeo-Christian usage demon. In his writing “Theogony”, the poet Hesiod relates how the men of the Golden Age were transmuted into daemons by the will of Zeus, to serve as ineffable guardians of mortals. Their function is that of the soul.
In the 19th century, the Canadian government believed that the best chance for aboriginal peoples to succeed was to learn English, and adopt Christianity. Ideally, they would pass their adopted lifestyle on to their children, hence abolishing any native traditions within a few generations.
This policy was known as "aggressive assimilation". The government of Canad provided the funding, and the churches managed what were first called industrial schools, and later residential schools. Children were easier to mould than adults, so children of aboriginal peoples were forcibly removed from their families, taken to the schools where they were required to speak English, not allowed to speak their native tongue, and forced to accept the Christian God. Many were beaten and punished if they spoke their own language. Those who tried to run away were caught and punished. Many committed suicide.
Residential schools were federally run, under the Department of Indian Affairs. Attendance was mandatory. Agents were employed by the government to ensure all native children attended.
At first there were about 69 schools operating, but by 1931, at the peak of the residential school system, there were about 80 schools operating in Canada. All together, 130 schools operated in every territory and province except Newfoundland, Prince Edward Island and New Brunswick from the earliest in the 19th century to the last, which closed in 1996. Approximately 150,000 aboriginal, Inuit and Métis children were removed from their communities and forced to attend the schools.
It was believed that native children could be successful if they assimilated into mainstream Canadian society by adopting Christianity and speaking English or French. Students were discouraged from speaking their first language or practising native traditions. If they were caught, they would experience severe punishment. They lived in substandard conditions, endured physical, emotional and sexual abuse. All correspondence was written in English, which many parents couldn't read. Brothers and sisters at the same school rarely saw each other, as all activities were segregated by gender.
In 1994, I had the privilege of sitting for a day listening to aboriginal survivors of the residential schools. No one in that room left the same person. I heard more than one person say their soul had been ripped out of them.
In Lyra’s parallel universe, the Magisterium covers up its lust for power and control by claiming that what they are doing is for the good of those children they kidnap. - just a little cut, and then the children would be sent home. In reality, once the children are taken, they never return home. Life is literally never the same, for their souls have been taken from them. They practice a patronising and patriarchal system of religious teaching which removes any question of their authority.
Here in the real world of Canada, both the government and the churches practiced a patronising and patriarchal system of assimilation. There was a common, and quite racist belief, that aboriginal peoples were somehow “less” than white peoples. Perhaps there was a belief that by becoming Christian, and learning western ways, aboriginal peoples “put on new clothes” and became new people. I am being generous here. For I believe that while they may have said “in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek”, it was not a real commitment of faith. Galatians says clearly that everyone is equal in the sight of God, yet even today we can see that aboriginal peoples are still not seen as equal, either in the eyes of the church or the eyes of the various governments. Extinguishment of aboriginal rights and claims is very much still an item on the agenda. The fact remains that those aboriginal children and families were ripped apart in the name of the Christian God. Note that although hundreds of Chinese came to Canada in this period - and there is no doubt they were badly treated - they were not required to give up their language, religion or families. No other ethnic group has been treated quite as badly as the aboriginal peoples of Canada.
The words of Jesus in this rarely-read passage are important to remember. He is more than scathing of the religious leaders. Jesus says “Don’t let anyone call you ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one teacher, and all of you are equal as brothers and sisters. Don’t address anyone here on earth as ‘Father,’ for only God in heaven is your spiritual Father. Don’t let anyone call you ‘Teacher,’ for you have only one teacher, the Messiah. The greatest among you must be a servant. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.
“What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter either.”
Two worlds, where children are taken and abused - where families of those who are deemed “lesser” are abused. Where a policy of extinguishment extends to particular cultures. Two worlds where religious leaders, more interested in control of thought and action, delude themselves that they have the way to enter the realm of God. In their need to exert power, and control, they deny others the opportunity to go there.
So after a delay of more than a year, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission begins in Winnipeg. It is not an end, and it will not solve everything. Native peoples are already saying that apologies are a step, this commission is another step, but they are also looking for justice to be done. Churches can take a strong role in supporting aboriginal peoples as they struggle to find that justice. Everyone is equal in the sight of God; we can do no less.
Sources:
1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daemon_%28classical_mythology%29
2. The Golden Compass (His Dark Materials). Philip Pullman. Alfred A. Knopf, New York, c. 2002.
3. CBC website - Residential Schools, Truth and Reconciliation Commission.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Hospitality and Life a sermon based upon Luke 7:36 - 8:3. June 13, 2010 Glen Ayr United Church
I am sure lots of us have seen the movie “Sister Act”. Whoopi Goldberg, playing the part of Vegas lounge singer Deloris Van Cartier, witnesses a brutal mob murder. To keep her safe, the police hide her in a convent and she becomes Sister Mary Clarence.
There is a scene in which the Monsignor is explaining the situation to Mother Superior. Mother Superior is only too happy to take in this poor unfortunate woman - until her horrified eyes behold the purple sequined body suit, designer sunglasses and huge afro hairdo. When the Monsignor reminds her she has made a vow of hospitality to everyone, regardless of who they are, Mother Superior responds “I lied.”
The word hospitality comes from the Latin ‘hospes’, which is formed from ‘hostis’, which meant to have power. The meaning of "host" can be literally read as "lord of strangers." But ‘hostire’, from which we get the word ‘host’, means equalize or compensate.
In the Homeric age, hospitality was under the protection of Zeus, who also had the title 'Xenios Zeus' ('xenos' means stranger), emphasizing the fact that hospitality was of the utmost importance. A stranger passing outside a Greek house could be invited inside by the family. The host washed the stranger's feet, offered food and wine, and only after the guest was comfortable the host could ask his or her name.
Hospitality is about making a stranger equal to the host, making him feel protected and taken care of, and when his time is up, guiding him to his next destination.
Did you know that hospitality, a generous and cordial welcome of strangers, was considered most important not only to Greeks, but to both Jews and Christians. Nothing was more important than showing hospitality - offering strangers a generous and cordial welcome by providing a sustaining environment. People believed that in the next life God would serve them as Host, and would show them the same kind of hospitality, the same kind of welcome as they had shown to strangers during their time on earth.
When Norio got off the plane last Monday, he had with him a somewhat strange woman whose money and credit cards had been stolen. She had no money to stay anywhere, or to eat. All she had was her passport and a plane ticket for the next morning. I didn’t know until I got to the airport. Would it be all right if she stayed overnight with us? There was a part of me that didn’t wanted to be bothered - after all, I had just got home from a trip myself, just sent my sister off, had a busy weekend and wanted to rest. Sending her to a hotel would have been easier. But we took her to dinner with my niece, and then took her home for the night. Next morning we were up at 5 to get her back to the airport. In some ways, Norio is far better at that radical and open hospitality than I am.
In his sermon about hospitality, Rev. Thomas Hall tells about a bishop in the United Methodist church, who was visiting churches in the Conference. He stopped at a small church, and not sure where to go, wandered into the church basement. A woman there eyeballed him and said, "What are you doing here? Can’t you see that we’re getting ready for the bazaar? You don’t belong here." So the bishop backed out, and made his way up to the sanctuary. He was met warmly by the pastor. "What is one of your greatest assets in this church?" the bishop asked, still shell-shocked. "That’s easy," the pastor said grinning broadly, "we pride ourselves on being a friendly church."
Tom Hall reflects that the bishop probably wondered, "Oh really? And what are your liabilities."
Now, Luke’s story is full of holes - as are most Biblical stories. Jesus is invited to dinner, and his host doesn’t observe any of the common courtesies. Somehow, an “immoral” woman manages to get in. Or is she already there? Or is she a member of the household who broke one of the myriad pharisaical laws? Simon figures Jesus couldn’t actually be a prophet, because if he were he would denounce this immoral woman - and certainly she would not be able to touch Jesus. That in itself would be a scandal. Jesus, true to form, not only proceeds to instruct Simon the Pharisee in interpretation of the law and scripture, but goes further and gives him a lecture on hospitality. He points out that Simon observed *none* of the regular customs - water and a towel to wash the feet, a kiss of greeting, olive oil on the head. Yet a woman, pushed to the side by others, observes those customs, and does it weeping.
Simon takes his faith seriously. He fasts, tithes, and attends worship. He’s a model for people who take the spiritual life seriously. But he has a serious disconnection between faith and hospitality.
Just for a moment, jump back to Sister Act. Mother Superior admits that she is far less adept at giving hospitality than she would like to think. The arrival of Deloris, as Sister Mary Clarence, brings the very being of the Holy Spirit into the convent. She upsets every apple cart, every single barrier Mother Superior has so carefully constructed. The other sisters have been *thinking* it, but Sister Mary Clarence *does* it. Fences come down, doors open, people find the church relevant - and the church becomes a part of the neighbourhood, instead of a bastion keeping people away and keeping the sisters in. Mother Superior notes how dangerous it is outside, and forgets that the other people have to live out there with the danger *all the time*. Completely unwittingly, Mary Clarence gives the whole convent new confidence, and a new understanding of what hospitality really means.
And in one telling line, Sister Mary Patrick notes “after all, that’s why we became nuns in the first place.”
Interestingly, the passage from Luke ends with Jesus and the disciples going into towns and villages preaching the good news, accompanied by women who provided for them and took care of them. They looked after each other on the road, and the women were not afraid to go with them.
Hospitality, to others and to ourselves, means going out on a limb and doing things that others might think are irresponsible. Hospitality means getting to know people right here, those that we don’t know as well as others. As we spend time today, over lunch and then in discussion about the church and its life, how we work towards living our faith is part of that discussion.
Sources:
1. Jesus and Hospitality, a sermon by Rev. Thomas Hall.
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hospitality
There is a scene in which the Monsignor is explaining the situation to Mother Superior. Mother Superior is only too happy to take in this poor unfortunate woman - until her horrified eyes behold the purple sequined body suit, designer sunglasses and huge afro hairdo. When the Monsignor reminds her she has made a vow of hospitality to everyone, regardless of who they are, Mother Superior responds “I lied.”
The word hospitality comes from the Latin ‘hospes’, which is formed from ‘hostis’, which meant to have power. The meaning of "host" can be literally read as "lord of strangers." But ‘hostire’, from which we get the word ‘host’, means equalize or compensate.
In the Homeric age, hospitality was under the protection of Zeus, who also had the title 'Xenios Zeus' ('xenos' means stranger), emphasizing the fact that hospitality was of the utmost importance. A stranger passing outside a Greek house could be invited inside by the family. The host washed the stranger's feet, offered food and wine, and only after the guest was comfortable the host could ask his or her name.
Hospitality is about making a stranger equal to the host, making him feel protected and taken care of, and when his time is up, guiding him to his next destination.
Did you know that hospitality, a generous and cordial welcome of strangers, was considered most important not only to Greeks, but to both Jews and Christians. Nothing was more important than showing hospitality - offering strangers a generous and cordial welcome by providing a sustaining environment. People believed that in the next life God would serve them as Host, and would show them the same kind of hospitality, the same kind of welcome as they had shown to strangers during their time on earth.
When Norio got off the plane last Monday, he had with him a somewhat strange woman whose money and credit cards had been stolen. She had no money to stay anywhere, or to eat. All she had was her passport and a plane ticket for the next morning. I didn’t know until I got to the airport. Would it be all right if she stayed overnight with us? There was a part of me that didn’t wanted to be bothered - after all, I had just got home from a trip myself, just sent my sister off, had a busy weekend and wanted to rest. Sending her to a hotel would have been easier. But we took her to dinner with my niece, and then took her home for the night. Next morning we were up at 5 to get her back to the airport. In some ways, Norio is far better at that radical and open hospitality than I am.
In his sermon about hospitality, Rev. Thomas Hall tells about a bishop in the United Methodist church, who was visiting churches in the Conference. He stopped at a small church, and not sure where to go, wandered into the church basement. A woman there eyeballed him and said, "What are you doing here? Can’t you see that we’re getting ready for the bazaar? You don’t belong here." So the bishop backed out, and made his way up to the sanctuary. He was met warmly by the pastor. "What is one of your greatest assets in this church?" the bishop asked, still shell-shocked. "That’s easy," the pastor said grinning broadly, "we pride ourselves on being a friendly church."
Tom Hall reflects that the bishop probably wondered, "Oh really? And what are your liabilities."
Now, Luke’s story is full of holes - as are most Biblical stories. Jesus is invited to dinner, and his host doesn’t observe any of the common courtesies. Somehow, an “immoral” woman manages to get in. Or is she already there? Or is she a member of the household who broke one of the myriad pharisaical laws? Simon figures Jesus couldn’t actually be a prophet, because if he were he would denounce this immoral woman - and certainly she would not be able to touch Jesus. That in itself would be a scandal. Jesus, true to form, not only proceeds to instruct Simon the Pharisee in interpretation of the law and scripture, but goes further and gives him a lecture on hospitality. He points out that Simon observed *none* of the regular customs - water and a towel to wash the feet, a kiss of greeting, olive oil on the head. Yet a woman, pushed to the side by others, observes those customs, and does it weeping.
Simon takes his faith seriously. He fasts, tithes, and attends worship. He’s a model for people who take the spiritual life seriously. But he has a serious disconnection between faith and hospitality.
Just for a moment, jump back to Sister Act. Mother Superior admits that she is far less adept at giving hospitality than she would like to think. The arrival of Deloris, as Sister Mary Clarence, brings the very being of the Holy Spirit into the convent. She upsets every apple cart, every single barrier Mother Superior has so carefully constructed. The other sisters have been *thinking* it, but Sister Mary Clarence *does* it. Fences come down, doors open, people find the church relevant - and the church becomes a part of the neighbourhood, instead of a bastion keeping people away and keeping the sisters in. Mother Superior notes how dangerous it is outside, and forgets that the other people have to live out there with the danger *all the time*. Completely unwittingly, Mary Clarence gives the whole convent new confidence, and a new understanding of what hospitality really means.
And in one telling line, Sister Mary Patrick notes “after all, that’s why we became nuns in the first place.”
Interestingly, the passage from Luke ends with Jesus and the disciples going into towns and villages preaching the good news, accompanied by women who provided for them and took care of them. They looked after each other on the road, and the women were not afraid to go with them.
Hospitality, to others and to ourselves, means going out on a limb and doing things that others might think are irresponsible. Hospitality means getting to know people right here, those that we don’t know as well as others. As we spend time today, over lunch and then in discussion about the church and its life, how we work towards living our faith is part of that discussion.
Sources:
1. Jesus and Hospitality, a sermon by Rev. Thomas Hall.
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hospitality
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Interlude Part 1
For the next three weeks there won't be any sermons published. I am on my way to the Festival of Homiletics in Nashville, Tennessee - and will likely post some comments about the preaching and sermons heard there. The next regular sermon will be posted to this blog on June 5, 2010.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Vision and Church a sermon based on Acts 16:11-15, and Revelation 21:10, 22 - 22:5 Sixth Sunday of Easter Glen Ayr United Church
Acts
We boarded a boat at Troas and sailed straight across to the island of Samothrace, and the next day we landed at Neapolis. From there we reached Philippi, a major city of Macedonia and a Roman colony, and stayed there several days. On the Sabbath we went outside the city to the river, where people were meeting for prayer, and sat down to speak with some women. One was Lydia from Thyatira, a merchant of expensive purple cloth, who worshiped God. As she listened to us, God opened her heart, and she heard what Paul was saying. She was baptized along with others in her household; she asked us to be her guests. “If you agree that I am a true believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my home.” And she urged us until we agreed.
Revelation
So he took me in the Spirit to a high mountain, and showed me the holy city, Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God. I saw no temple in the city, for God and the Lamb are its temple. The angel showed me a river with the water of life, clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God. It flowed down the centre of the main street; on each side grew a tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, with a fresh crop each month. The leaves were used for medicine to heal the nations. No longer will there be a curse upon anything. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be there, and the servants will worship; they will see God’s face; God’s name will be written on their foreheads. There will be no night there—no need for lamps or sun—for God will shine on them.
*****************************************************************
Remember this old joke? Why did the children of Israel wander the wilderness for forty years when the promised land was less than 50 miles from their starting point? Because Moses would not stop and ask for directions.
Due to John Gray’s description in the book ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’, men have been identified as the ones who would drive right past two Petro Cans, several Timmies, rather than admit that they’re hopelessly lost, and they have no idea how to get where they are supposed to be going.
My husband bought himself a GPS, but you know what? Even when it’s on and set, he won’t listen to it. He still thinks he knows how to get where we are supposed to be going, better than the GPS. And of course he hates it no end when I tell him I *do* know where we are going, because I am listening to the GPS *and* looking at a map.
...I remember one time last summer, on our road trip to the Maritimes, where he did (knock on wood) listen, and we stayed on the road the map told us to stay on.....the poor GPS had us driving in the middle of empty space. The road map was up-to-date, the GPS was not....
Getting clear directions requires asking, and it requires discernment. The asking and the discerning both help us determine our destination. Both the reading from Acts, and the one from Revelation, suggest that churches need to get directions straight in the carrying out of mission. At the best of times, congregations need to move from a place of self-preservation to a place of genuine vision and mission. If we don’t discern a direction, we are going to end up wandering around! The conundrum is that it's the wandering around which helps us discern where we are supposed to be!
Paul and Silas are all ready to do another mission with the Good News. But did you notice one thing? Luke includes a suggestion that they had to keep asking directions - they traveled through the area of “Phrygia and Galatia, because the Holy Spirit had told them not to go into the province of Asia at that time . . .Then coming to the borders of Mysia, they headed for the province of Bithynia, but again the Spirit did not let them go . . .”
Now, you would have thought Paul and Silas of all people would have a handle on what they had to do and where they had to go. But no...they needed directions - not literal directions, but spiritual. They had no specific guidance from God. Every time they started off in another direction, God shut the door. "No, I don’t want you to go to Asia." So they go in the opposite direction - Bithynia. "Nope - not there". I am sure they got frustrated, because they were all ready and the door was closed.
Paul and Silas wander outside the doors, and find a small group in prayer by the river, and one of that group is a woman named Lydia. She is wealthy and influential. She becomes the first follower of Jesus in Macedonia. One person who heard a message. Is it possible that all of Paul and Silas’s to-ing and fro-ing might have been for this one encounter? Luke says Lydia already believed in God, and was ready to hear the Good News. The church in Philippi came into being through one person.
Here is something for us to think about. How is the Spirit already at work behind the scenes here? We need to remember that *we* don’t do it, the Spirit does. We need to wait for the directions. When we are in partnership with God, listening for any directions, we cannot expect to see spectacular results right away. Our frustration comes because we want to see results of *all* our efforts; we just want to see people fall in the door, yesterday - instead of recognising that's not how it happens.
Here’s where we connect to Revelation. Here we have a metaphor for the realm of God, intersecting with human existence. Humans can be the means of channeling God’s grace, the notion of ‘building the kingdom’. Human agents infused with the Spirit of the new creation may contribute to that future reign of God here and now - and it might only be one person at a time.
We may think churches are necessary for Christian community, but Revelation intimates that put too much investment in our buildings, instead of a closer relationship with God. So the question is how can we be more more in relationship and less building-dependent?
How can we keep our faith alive in the vision of the new city if we still think the old vision worked fine? How can people of faith live now as if God were already building the realm through their words and actions.
The word *worship* means "to declare what is worthy." What do you declare is "worthy" by your worship? Is it worship once a week for an hour, and no longer? A friend of mine was criticised for “preaching too long.” Have we so much other important stuff to do that giving five or ten minutes extra to God on a Sunday morning is too much? What does that say about our worship? Is worship part of the very fabric of our lives in faith? What do we say about God?
Both Acts and Revelation show us a vision of the realm, beside a river....remember that part. Luke tells us that Paul and Silas spoke to Lydia and baptised her beside the river. John tells us in Revelation that the new realm is beside the river of the water of life.
Revelation offers us God’s vision - a new realm in which all people are blessed. Is that our vision? Is that our church? Are we only here for ourselves, or are we here for something more? Do we want everything to happen according to our schedule? Or are we willing to listen for directions, and along the way - one person at a time - bring about the “new heaven and the new earth”?
Sources:
Directions a sermon based on Acts 16: 9-15 by Rev. Thomas Hall
We boarded a boat at Troas and sailed straight across to the island of Samothrace, and the next day we landed at Neapolis. From there we reached Philippi, a major city of Macedonia and a Roman colony, and stayed there several days. On the Sabbath we went outside the city to the river, where people were meeting for prayer, and sat down to speak with some women. One was Lydia from Thyatira, a merchant of expensive purple cloth, who worshiped God. As she listened to us, God opened her heart, and she heard what Paul was saying. She was baptized along with others in her household; she asked us to be her guests. “If you agree that I am a true believer in the Lord,” she said, “come and stay at my home.” And she urged us until we agreed.
Revelation
So he took me in the Spirit to a high mountain, and showed me the holy city, Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God. I saw no temple in the city, for God and the Lamb are its temple. The angel showed me a river with the water of life, clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God. It flowed down the centre of the main street; on each side grew a tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, with a fresh crop each month. The leaves were used for medicine to heal the nations. No longer will there be a curse upon anything. The throne of God and of the Lamb will be there, and the servants will worship; they will see God’s face; God’s name will be written on their foreheads. There will be no night there—no need for lamps or sun—for God will shine on them.
*****************************************************************
Remember this old joke? Why did the children of Israel wander the wilderness for forty years when the promised land was less than 50 miles from their starting point? Because Moses would not stop and ask for directions.
Due to John Gray’s description in the book ‘Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus’, men have been identified as the ones who would drive right past two Petro Cans, several Timmies, rather than admit that they’re hopelessly lost, and they have no idea how to get where they are supposed to be going.
My husband bought himself a GPS, but you know what? Even when it’s on and set, he won’t listen to it. He still thinks he knows how to get where we are supposed to be going, better than the GPS. And of course he hates it no end when I tell him I *do* know where we are going, because I am listening to the GPS *and* looking at a map.
...I remember one time last summer, on our road trip to the Maritimes, where he did (knock on wood) listen, and we stayed on the road the map told us to stay on.....the poor GPS had us driving in the middle of empty space. The road map was up-to-date, the GPS was not....
Getting clear directions requires asking, and it requires discernment. The asking and the discerning both help us determine our destination. Both the reading from Acts, and the one from Revelation, suggest that churches need to get directions straight in the carrying out of mission. At the best of times, congregations need to move from a place of self-preservation to a place of genuine vision and mission. If we don’t discern a direction, we are going to end up wandering around! The conundrum is that it's the wandering around which helps us discern where we are supposed to be!
Paul and Silas are all ready to do another mission with the Good News. But did you notice one thing? Luke includes a suggestion that they had to keep asking directions - they traveled through the area of “Phrygia and Galatia, because the Holy Spirit had told them not to go into the province of Asia at that time . . .Then coming to the borders of Mysia, they headed for the province of Bithynia, but again the Spirit did not let them go . . .”
Now, you would have thought Paul and Silas of all people would have a handle on what they had to do and where they had to go. But no...they needed directions - not literal directions, but spiritual. They had no specific guidance from God. Every time they started off in another direction, God shut the door. "No, I don’t want you to go to Asia." So they go in the opposite direction - Bithynia. "Nope - not there". I am sure they got frustrated, because they were all ready and the door was closed.
Paul and Silas wander outside the doors, and find a small group in prayer by the river, and one of that group is a woman named Lydia. She is wealthy and influential. She becomes the first follower of Jesus in Macedonia. One person who heard a message. Is it possible that all of Paul and Silas’s to-ing and fro-ing might have been for this one encounter? Luke says Lydia already believed in God, and was ready to hear the Good News. The church in Philippi came into being through one person.
Here is something for us to think about. How is the Spirit already at work behind the scenes here? We need to remember that *we* don’t do it, the Spirit does. We need to wait for the directions. When we are in partnership with God, listening for any directions, we cannot expect to see spectacular results right away. Our frustration comes because we want to see results of *all* our efforts; we just want to see people fall in the door, yesterday - instead of recognising that's not how it happens.
Here’s where we connect to Revelation. Here we have a metaphor for the realm of God, intersecting with human existence. Humans can be the means of channeling God’s grace, the notion of ‘building the kingdom’. Human agents infused with the Spirit of the new creation may contribute to that future reign of God here and now - and it might only be one person at a time.
We may think churches are necessary for Christian community, but Revelation intimates that put too much investment in our buildings, instead of a closer relationship with God. So the question is how can we be more more in relationship and less building-dependent?
How can we keep our faith alive in the vision of the new city if we still think the old vision worked fine? How can people of faith live now as if God were already building the realm through their words and actions.
The word *worship* means "to declare what is worthy." What do you declare is "worthy" by your worship? Is it worship once a week for an hour, and no longer? A friend of mine was criticised for “preaching too long.” Have we so much other important stuff to do that giving five or ten minutes extra to God on a Sunday morning is too much? What does that say about our worship? Is worship part of the very fabric of our lives in faith? What do we say about God?
Both Acts and Revelation show us a vision of the realm, beside a river....remember that part. Luke tells us that Paul and Silas spoke to Lydia and baptised her beside the river. John tells us in Revelation that the new realm is beside the river of the water of life.
Revelation offers us God’s vision - a new realm in which all people are blessed. Is that our vision? Is that our church? Are we only here for ourselves, or are we here for something more? Do we want everything to happen according to our schedule? Or are we willing to listen for directions, and along the way - one person at a time - bring about the “new heaven and the new earth”?
Sources:
Directions a sermon based on Acts 16: 9-15 by Rev. Thomas Hall
Saturday, May 1, 2010
“Celebrations” A sermon based upon Revelation 21:1-6 and Luke 17:33 Glen Ayr United Church May 2, 2010 Fifth Sunday of Easter
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared, the sea was also gone. I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven like a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”
The one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” Then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” He also said, “It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega—the Beginning and the End. To all who are thirsty I will give freely from the springs of the water of life.” (Revelation 21:1-6)
“If you cling to your life, you will lose it, and if you let your life go, you will save it.” Luke 17:33
******************************************************************
In Buddhist practice, there is an exercise called “holding on and letting go.” It is based in the knowledge that all things are impermanent, that they cannot continue forever. The exercise consists of taking an object which is of great value to you - something to which you are strongly attached, something with strong memories attached - and throwing it away. You literally throw it, over your shoulder, and from then on it is gone.
In the Christian scriptures, a story is told about a young man who asks Jesus what he should do to enter the realm of God. Jesus says, essentially, go and get rid of everything you have - then you will be able to enter. The young man, unable to give up all his riches and possessions, goes away.
Jesus wasn’t talking literally about getting rid of everything, he was addressing that very fine line between holding on, and letting go - and when it’s the right time to do which.
In Roman mythology, Janus was the god of gates, doors, doorways, beginnings and endings. His most prominent remnant in modern culture is his namesake, the month of January. He is most often depicted as having two faces or heads, facing in opposite directions.
In general, Janus was the patron of concrete and abstract beginnings of the world, human life, new historical ages, and economical enterprises. He was frequently used to symbolize change and transitions such as the progression of past to future, of one condition to another, of one vision to another, the growing up of young people, and of one universe to another.
There’s a fine line between holding on, and letting go.
To “let go” means not to worry about the future, but look forward to what might happen
Havelock Ellis once said, “All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” It seems like the further you go in life the more you are faced with the decision of what to hold on to, when to hold on, and when to let go and trust. It becomes more and more important to consider what you need to keep and what you need to change.
Sometimes we have to do both at the same time. The word for this is “risk” . The Japanese character for “hope” involves danger and opportunity.
When it comes to change and risk, today’s successful organizations are traveling the super highway, schools are starting to get on the county highways, but the church is still trying hard to continue plodding down the old and familiar paths. So many congregations are reacting when it’s time to act. Reacting to choruses, reacting to different worship styles, reacting to the changing neighborhoods around their church. Congregations have somehow learned how to say no more than yes, and end up stuck on the same old cow paths.
Rev. Thomas Hall talks about the different stages of a church committee - and these stages can be applied to almost any activity we have in the church. Here are some of them:
Wild enthusiasm. “Let’s begin a new outreach to children in the inner city—I’ve seen so many kids on the street corners on Sunday mornings; we could bring them to church for Sunday School and a lunch, then drive them back.” “Yeah!” “What a great idea!” “All in favor, say aye!” “Can you believe it—everyone voted yes! “What an exciting idea!”
Disillusionment when things don’t happen yesterday. Three weeks into the new ministry . . . “We don’t have enough people signed up.” “I never intended to help out every Sunday, I just thought it was a really good idea for the church.” “We need to find volunteers to take on this job.”
Search for the guilty. “Whose idea was this?” “I just want to go on record that this was not my idea; I had reservations about this whole thing from the start.” “I think the pastor needs to step up to the table and take responsibility for this failure.” “I don’t think we really did this the right way, there was a better way to do it. After all, we are in a crisis.”
Over the last five weeks, Glen Ayr has been working at a stewardship programme. Maybe you weren’t sure, maybe you didn’t read all the material, maybe it just didn’t sink in because it wasn’t like a stewardship programme you remember. It wasn’t designed as a hard sell, it was designed to ask each of you to think about what you can offer to help support all of the ministries in which Glen Ayr is involved. Just as you are feeling the bite in your grocery bills, heating and hydro, gas for the car, all kinds of things - so this church feels that too. But we also believe that Glen Ayr is growing into a new role in this community, and that we have something vital to offer to the community around us. That’s the holding on part.
At the same time, we are called by faith to live out of a sense of abundance and gratitude. Without every single one of you here - and all of those who might be but cannot - Glen Ayr would not be here at all. We started out almost five years ago together, on a path into the unknown. We had no idea where this would take us, and to a large extent we still don’t know exactly where we are going. But we engaged a new and energetic musician who, with considerable talent and sensitivity, has brought a new dimension to our worship and our life together. We have begun to see a new group of people finding something here. We have many people who quietly give of their time and talent to the church; some have been here a long time, some are newer. In the process of that, there has been some letting go - there has to be.
The quote from Havelock Ellis says much to me. All of our endeavours have to be a fine mingling of holding on and letting go - of doing things a different way, and of not reacting if something doesn’t work. Everything we do is an experiment - there are no hard and fast rules for what will work and what won’t. There are no rules for how fast it is going to happen - because it happens in God’s time, not ours. In short, there are no guarantees - yet in the midst of no guarantees we are called to faith and hope.
Part of living a faith of gratitude is to celebrate what we have, even when we might see clouds on the horizon. We have to be willing to let go of certain concepts, and do something differently, in faith and trust that God will make something out of it. It may not happen, in which case maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s the danger. But there is also the opportunity: at the same time that we try to look to the future and do some responsible planning, we also have to look at who we are now, right here, today - and celebrate who we are and what we have. For part of this year we will be celebrating a lot of the past of Glen Ayr. We will also celebrate the future of Glen Ayr, unknown though that may be. In the midst of that danger and opportunity, we also have to celebrate each other - with gratitude and thanks. So today we come together around God’s table for the communion celebration, and then we go to lunch together - a lunch provided as a way of saying thank you to each of you, for who you are, and what you bring to Glen Ayr. Because there is a time for just letting go and being...right now. May it be so.
Sources:
1. “Trouble Back At Headquarters” a homily based on Acts 11:1-18 by Rev. Thomas Hall.
2. Henry Havelock Ellis 1859 - 1939 - physician and social reformer.
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janus
The one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” Then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” He also said, “It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega—the Beginning and the End. To all who are thirsty I will give freely from the springs of the water of life.” (Revelation 21:1-6)
“If you cling to your life, you will lose it, and if you let your life go, you will save it.” Luke 17:33
******************************************************************
In Buddhist practice, there is an exercise called “holding on and letting go.” It is based in the knowledge that all things are impermanent, that they cannot continue forever. The exercise consists of taking an object which is of great value to you - something to which you are strongly attached, something with strong memories attached - and throwing it away. You literally throw it, over your shoulder, and from then on it is gone.
In the Christian scriptures, a story is told about a young man who asks Jesus what he should do to enter the realm of God. Jesus says, essentially, go and get rid of everything you have - then you will be able to enter. The young man, unable to give up all his riches and possessions, goes away.
Jesus wasn’t talking literally about getting rid of everything, he was addressing that very fine line between holding on, and letting go - and when it’s the right time to do which.
In Roman mythology, Janus was the god of gates, doors, doorways, beginnings and endings. His most prominent remnant in modern culture is his namesake, the month of January. He is most often depicted as having two faces or heads, facing in opposite directions.
In general, Janus was the patron of concrete and abstract beginnings of the world, human life, new historical ages, and economical enterprises. He was frequently used to symbolize change and transitions such as the progression of past to future, of one condition to another, of one vision to another, the growing up of young people, and of one universe to another.
There’s a fine line between holding on, and letting go.
To “let go” means not to worry about the future, but look forward to what might happen
Havelock Ellis once said, “All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” It seems like the further you go in life the more you are faced with the decision of what to hold on to, when to hold on, and when to let go and trust. It becomes more and more important to consider what you need to keep and what you need to change.
Sometimes we have to do both at the same time. The word for this is “risk” . The Japanese character for “hope” involves danger and opportunity.
When it comes to change and risk, today’s successful organizations are traveling the super highway, schools are starting to get on the county highways, but the church is still trying hard to continue plodding down the old and familiar paths. So many congregations are reacting when it’s time to act. Reacting to choruses, reacting to different worship styles, reacting to the changing neighborhoods around their church. Congregations have somehow learned how to say no more than yes, and end up stuck on the same old cow paths.
Rev. Thomas Hall talks about the different stages of a church committee - and these stages can be applied to almost any activity we have in the church. Here are some of them:
Wild enthusiasm. “Let’s begin a new outreach to children in the inner city—I’ve seen so many kids on the street corners on Sunday mornings; we could bring them to church for Sunday School and a lunch, then drive them back.” “Yeah!” “What a great idea!” “All in favor, say aye!” “Can you believe it—everyone voted yes! “What an exciting idea!”
Disillusionment when things don’t happen yesterday. Three weeks into the new ministry . . . “We don’t have enough people signed up.” “I never intended to help out every Sunday, I just thought it was a really good idea for the church.” “We need to find volunteers to take on this job.”
Search for the guilty. “Whose idea was this?” “I just want to go on record that this was not my idea; I had reservations about this whole thing from the start.” “I think the pastor needs to step up to the table and take responsibility for this failure.” “I don’t think we really did this the right way, there was a better way to do it. After all, we are in a crisis.”
Over the last five weeks, Glen Ayr has been working at a stewardship programme. Maybe you weren’t sure, maybe you didn’t read all the material, maybe it just didn’t sink in because it wasn’t like a stewardship programme you remember. It wasn’t designed as a hard sell, it was designed to ask each of you to think about what you can offer to help support all of the ministries in which Glen Ayr is involved. Just as you are feeling the bite in your grocery bills, heating and hydro, gas for the car, all kinds of things - so this church feels that too. But we also believe that Glen Ayr is growing into a new role in this community, and that we have something vital to offer to the community around us. That’s the holding on part.
At the same time, we are called by faith to live out of a sense of abundance and gratitude. Without every single one of you here - and all of those who might be but cannot - Glen Ayr would not be here at all. We started out almost five years ago together, on a path into the unknown. We had no idea where this would take us, and to a large extent we still don’t know exactly where we are going. But we engaged a new and energetic musician who, with considerable talent and sensitivity, has brought a new dimension to our worship and our life together. We have begun to see a new group of people finding something here. We have many people who quietly give of their time and talent to the church; some have been here a long time, some are newer. In the process of that, there has been some letting go - there has to be.
The quote from Havelock Ellis says much to me. All of our endeavours have to be a fine mingling of holding on and letting go - of doing things a different way, and of not reacting if something doesn’t work. Everything we do is an experiment - there are no hard and fast rules for what will work and what won’t. There are no rules for how fast it is going to happen - because it happens in God’s time, not ours. In short, there are no guarantees - yet in the midst of no guarantees we are called to faith and hope.
Part of living a faith of gratitude is to celebrate what we have, even when we might see clouds on the horizon. We have to be willing to let go of certain concepts, and do something differently, in faith and trust that God will make something out of it. It may not happen, in which case maybe it wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s the danger. But there is also the opportunity: at the same time that we try to look to the future and do some responsible planning, we also have to look at who we are now, right here, today - and celebrate who we are and what we have. For part of this year we will be celebrating a lot of the past of Glen Ayr. We will also celebrate the future of Glen Ayr, unknown though that may be. In the midst of that danger and opportunity, we also have to celebrate each other - with gratitude and thanks. So today we come together around God’s table for the communion celebration, and then we go to lunch together - a lunch provided as a way of saying thank you to each of you, for who you are, and what you bring to Glen Ayr. Because there is a time for just letting go and being...right now. May it be so.
Sources:
1. “Trouble Back At Headquarters” a homily based on Acts 11:1-18 by Rev. Thomas Hall.
2. Henry Havelock Ellis 1859 - 1939 - physician and social reformer.
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Janus
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Two Kinds of Life, a sermon based on Acts 9:36-43. April 25, 2010, Fourth Sunday of Easter, Glen Ayr United Church.
Try to imagine what it would have been like in Joppa. In this story, a kind of parallel to the story of Lazarus, Dorcas is raised from apparent death, and picks up a new life. Like much of the world today, including Canada, people spoke more than one language. In Joppa, they spoke at least Greek and Aramaic - some would probably have spoken Hebrew. Depending where she was and with whom, Dorcas was also known as Tabitha – both names meaning gazelle.
You probably know people like her. Most of us know there are only so many hours in a day or days in a week. Dorcas wasn’t one of those people - she always seemed to have more than enough time to get more done than is possible to do in the regular day or week. Somehow, though, despite al the things she did, it seemed as though she always had lots of time to give her undivided attention. If there was a job that needed to be done, she was always there to do it; doing it well and with a smile..
Sounds like some people we know, doesn’t it?
What few people saw in Dorcas, however, - and what we probably don’t see in some of the seemingly tireless people around us - is that Dorcas was becoming weary of requests for her time,
weary of the hurts and sorrows she was carrying for people, weary of the growing expectations that she could do it all.
“She was devoted to good works and acts of charity,” but it seemed as though no one else was devoted to them (v 36). The church in Joppa loved having Dorcas do the work.
Maybe it was a combination of her personal style, and a complacent church, but no one else seemed able or willing to carry some of the load. So when Dorcas died, there was a crisis. No one else knew what to do. All they could think of was who would replace her. No one had taken time to thank her. They just compared themselves to her, and decided that she was so talented, their gifts didn’t measure up to hers. So they would find a way to say “Oh, I don’t have any gifts or talent, I can’t really do anything.” Rather than recognise that God had given everyone gifts, they were happy to leave it to Dorcas.
Funny, though, when she died they found a way to minister to her. They gently and carefully washed her body and laid her on a bed (v 37). The woman who had in many ways washed their feet is now being washed from head to toe by the people she had served.
Dorcas was an exceptional woman, and the only women named in the Bible specifically as a disciples. But her ministry had allowed people to think that the church was there to serve them - that it was OK to expect it. Dorcas’ way of caring for people created a self-centered group who thought there was no future if she wasn’t there. To them, her death spelled death for the church.
But God had something else in mind. God’s vision of the church was larger than their vision of the church. God knows there is more to the church than just caring for the people who attend.
So when God raises Dorcas from the dead, there is a dramatic change as God’s vision for the church comes into focus. The church begins to change from simply caring for the “widows and saints” who had benefited from her charity to one concerned about the community around them. The people begin to share the good news of God’s love and grace as they tell her story (v 42).
In the book “The Holy Longing”, Ronald Rolheiser talks about two kinds of death and two kinds of life. He uses a word that not too many people are familiar with. This particular word is “paschal.” It comes from the Hebrew word ‘pesach’, which means Passover. In Christian circles, it’s often used to speak about Jesus’ death as the Passover lamb given for the people of Israel.
Rolheiser talks about terminal death and paschal death. Terminal death ends life and ends possibilities. Paschal death is a death that, while ending one kind of life, opens the person to a deeper form of life. Paul spoke to the Corinthians about a grain of wheat being planted and dying but returning as new life in a new form - that is a paschal death.
There is resuscitated life and resurrected life. Resuscitated life is, for example, someone who has been clinically dead and is resuscitated, brought back to the physical life they left. Resurrected life is not a restoration of the same old life but the entering into a radically new life. Lazarus got his old life back, a life from which he had to die again. Jesus did not get his old life back. He received a new life – a richer life and one within which he would not have to die again.
Dorcas died a terminal death and was gifted with resuscitated life. She takes up where she left off, so to speak. Dorcas’ church died a paschal death, and from is death came a resurrected life.
Dorcas doesn’t change - she carries on as before
Her church, however, changes. Their resurrection helps them change the basis for their existence, change the way they live and contribute to the life of their congregation. They find ways to respond to God’s love and grace by living out - within the congregation and outside it - gratitude for what has been given.
They participate in acts of piety and commitment, they participate in acts of charity, they are open and welcoming, they witness to the good news by working to ensure the church is able to live fully, they imitate the Disciple Dorcas.
If you read through the entire book of Acts, you begin to understand that this isn’t just about Dorcas, but about the work of the Spirit - which is a story without end. The Holy Spirit begins work among us as we experience a paschal death and our own resurrection.
If the ultimate aim of stewardship is that our whole lives are to honour God, then we need to work from theologies of abundance, gratitude, and active discipleship. A theology of abundance celebrates that God created all that is and generously gives us every gift that we have and are. God calls us into relationship, to make our world better. We honour God when celebrate the abundance of God’s love for us, when we celebrate our lives together; we also honour God when we respond with gratitude.
Discipleship means a focus on Jesus, God’s great gift, who shows us how to live in ways which reflect our relationship with God in community. Through our giving - of time, of talents, of money - we participate in the preaching, teaching, healing, feeding and caring. We are the embodiment of God’s love, and the hands and feet of Jesus.
God also gives us the gift of the Spirit. We honour God by being open to the Spirit’s guidance. In opening ourselves to the Spirit’s leading, we are able to discern God’s call to both abundant living, and abundant giving.
The work of resurrection - and it is work - is not something that happens fast. It takes a change in our focus, a revitalisation of our purpose. The story of Dorcas, and the life of her congregation, is a story about stewardship. Each of us has something which is vital to the life of our congregation. Each of us has Spirit-given gifts, and the only way the congregation can experience the paschal resurrection is if those gifts are put to the best use possible. It has always been a reality of the church, that it cannot be resurrected without the hands, feet, and gifts of everyone in it.
May it be so.
Sources:
1. Based on the sermon “ Resuscitated for Service”, a sermon based on Acts 9:36-43 by Rev. Randy Quinn
2. Ronald Rolheiser, “The Holy Longing”. Doubleday, 1999, p. 146
3. “Celebrate Stewardship”, by Judith and Warren Johnson, copyright 2004The United Church of Canada. Used with permission.
You probably know people like her. Most of us know there are only so many hours in a day or days in a week. Dorcas wasn’t one of those people - she always seemed to have more than enough time to get more done than is possible to do in the regular day or week. Somehow, though, despite al the things she did, it seemed as though she always had lots of time to give her undivided attention. If there was a job that needed to be done, she was always there to do it; doing it well and with a smile..
Sounds like some people we know, doesn’t it?
What few people saw in Dorcas, however, - and what we probably don’t see in some of the seemingly tireless people around us - is that Dorcas was becoming weary of requests for her time,
weary of the hurts and sorrows she was carrying for people, weary of the growing expectations that she could do it all.
“She was devoted to good works and acts of charity,” but it seemed as though no one else was devoted to them (v 36). The church in Joppa loved having Dorcas do the work.
Maybe it was a combination of her personal style, and a complacent church, but no one else seemed able or willing to carry some of the load. So when Dorcas died, there was a crisis. No one else knew what to do. All they could think of was who would replace her. No one had taken time to thank her. They just compared themselves to her, and decided that she was so talented, their gifts didn’t measure up to hers. So they would find a way to say “Oh, I don’t have any gifts or talent, I can’t really do anything.” Rather than recognise that God had given everyone gifts, they were happy to leave it to Dorcas.
Funny, though, when she died they found a way to minister to her. They gently and carefully washed her body and laid her on a bed (v 37). The woman who had in many ways washed their feet is now being washed from head to toe by the people she had served.
Dorcas was an exceptional woman, and the only women named in the Bible specifically as a disciples. But her ministry had allowed people to think that the church was there to serve them - that it was OK to expect it. Dorcas’ way of caring for people created a self-centered group who thought there was no future if she wasn’t there. To them, her death spelled death for the church.
But God had something else in mind. God’s vision of the church was larger than their vision of the church. God knows there is more to the church than just caring for the people who attend.
So when God raises Dorcas from the dead, there is a dramatic change as God’s vision for the church comes into focus. The church begins to change from simply caring for the “widows and saints” who had benefited from her charity to one concerned about the community around them. The people begin to share the good news of God’s love and grace as they tell her story (v 42).
In the book “The Holy Longing”, Ronald Rolheiser talks about two kinds of death and two kinds of life. He uses a word that not too many people are familiar with. This particular word is “paschal.” It comes from the Hebrew word ‘pesach’, which means Passover. In Christian circles, it’s often used to speak about Jesus’ death as the Passover lamb given for the people of Israel.
Rolheiser talks about terminal death and paschal death. Terminal death ends life and ends possibilities. Paschal death is a death that, while ending one kind of life, opens the person to a deeper form of life. Paul spoke to the Corinthians about a grain of wheat being planted and dying but returning as new life in a new form - that is a paschal death.
There is resuscitated life and resurrected life. Resuscitated life is, for example, someone who has been clinically dead and is resuscitated, brought back to the physical life they left. Resurrected life is not a restoration of the same old life but the entering into a radically new life. Lazarus got his old life back, a life from which he had to die again. Jesus did not get his old life back. He received a new life – a richer life and one within which he would not have to die again.
Dorcas died a terminal death and was gifted with resuscitated life. She takes up where she left off, so to speak. Dorcas’ church died a paschal death, and from is death came a resurrected life.
Dorcas doesn’t change - she carries on as before
Her church, however, changes. Their resurrection helps them change the basis for their existence, change the way they live and contribute to the life of their congregation. They find ways to respond to God’s love and grace by living out - within the congregation and outside it - gratitude for what has been given.
They participate in acts of piety and commitment, they participate in acts of charity, they are open and welcoming, they witness to the good news by working to ensure the church is able to live fully, they imitate the Disciple Dorcas.
If you read through the entire book of Acts, you begin to understand that this isn’t just about Dorcas, but about the work of the Spirit - which is a story without end. The Holy Spirit begins work among us as we experience a paschal death and our own resurrection.
If the ultimate aim of stewardship is that our whole lives are to honour God, then we need to work from theologies of abundance, gratitude, and active discipleship. A theology of abundance celebrates that God created all that is and generously gives us every gift that we have and are. God calls us into relationship, to make our world better. We honour God when celebrate the abundance of God’s love for us, when we celebrate our lives together; we also honour God when we respond with gratitude.
Discipleship means a focus on Jesus, God’s great gift, who shows us how to live in ways which reflect our relationship with God in community. Through our giving - of time, of talents, of money - we participate in the preaching, teaching, healing, feeding and caring. We are the embodiment of God’s love, and the hands and feet of Jesus.
God also gives us the gift of the Spirit. We honour God by being open to the Spirit’s guidance. In opening ourselves to the Spirit’s leading, we are able to discern God’s call to both abundant living, and abundant giving.
The work of resurrection - and it is work - is not something that happens fast. It takes a change in our focus, a revitalisation of our purpose. The story of Dorcas, and the life of her congregation, is a story about stewardship. Each of us has something which is vital to the life of our congregation. Each of us has Spirit-given gifts, and the only way the congregation can experience the paschal resurrection is if those gifts are put to the best use possible. It has always been a reality of the church, that it cannot be resurrected without the hands, feet, and gifts of everyone in it.
May it be so.
Sources:
1. Based on the sermon “ Resuscitated for Service”, a sermon based on Acts 9:36-43 by Rev. Randy Quinn
2. Ronald Rolheiser, “The Holy Longing”. Doubleday, 1999, p. 146
3. “Celebrate Stewardship”, by Judith and Warren Johnson, copyright 2004The United Church of Canada. Used with permission.
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