Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me."
Jesus replied, "Who appointed me judge or arbiter between you?" Then he said to the crowd, "Watch out! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; a man's life is not found in the abundance of his possessions."
He told them this parable: "The ground of a certain rich man produced an exceptionally good crop. He thought to himself, 'What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops.' Then he said, 'This is what I'll do. I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and store all my grain and my goods. And I'll say to myself, "You have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry." '
"But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have saved up for yourself?' This is how it will be with anyone who stores up things for himself but is not rich toward God."
******************************************************************
I hope that your summer has blessed you with some special moments of contentment. Maybe at the beach or beside a cold mountain stream. Maybe when you had some fun with grandchildren, or lunching with friends, or a short trip (or long) to a place of quiet and rest; maybe you took some pride in the amount of money you had to retire on; sat back with a satisfied smile and said to yourself “Soul, relax; eat and drink, be merry. Nothing to worry about.”
This morning's lesson from Luke has a lot to do with leisure, with living, with getting a fresh perspective on things. You can almost visualise Jesus perched on a huge boulder, perhaps an outcropping of rock on an otherwise pretty flat plain. Thousands of people have travelled to hear his revolutionary words, perhaps in the hope of healing and exorcising of evil spirits. Jesus knows the time is short. With his own death before him, he preaches his "No Fear" sermon one last time.
But as he begins to move into his second point - a heckler in the crowd shouts: "Hey, Jesus, would you please order my brother to give me a fair share of the family inheritance." Who is this guy? He has one thing on his mind, and he hasn't heard a thing that's been said. Jesus angrily snaps a retort back to the heckler: "Who do you think I am, buddy? Some judge that God has personally assigned to you? Take care, my friend, about greed; there's more to life than getting things. "
What Jesus says next should be plastered across every billboard in North America. It's a story about a man whose land produces a bumper crop. He's blessed with abundance. So Jesus says that this little guy knocks down his existing buildings in order to make room for the surplus crop. Well, he's worked hard, so we can kind of see where he’s coming from. But now adequate facilities need to be built. So far, we're exactly in line with this fellow; we've done the same thing we do in most of our churches - we add air conditioning, new wall to wall carpeting and fresh paint, add extra storage space and give the youth their own room. So we've torn our barns down in order to build bigger ones. No problem here. But then Jesus lets us overhear this guy as he begins to talk to himself; a sort of brain to wallet to soul meeting.
"You've made it! You’ve really made it! No more work for you, buddy roo; you can just ease on into retirement and live off the interest. You know eat, drink, and be merry kinds of stuff."
Now we do have a problem. Just live off the interest? Just ease out of life? Just unplug ourselves from life and take it easy? An interruptive voice breaks up this guy’s thought. "Fool," says God. "Tonight death may come for you, and your very soul will be required. So then who'll get your things; you certainly won't."
Seems to be a straightforward story about greed. Greed is probably one of the biggest temptations we face. We're trained to be greedy quite early in life, brainwashed, all of us, into being unable to discern between real need, and just want. The average child has watched 15,000 TV commercials before he or she even starts school. We spend more money on advertising than on our public institutions of higher education. Billions of dollars have been pumped into our world by greedy people, to try and convince us that Jesus was wrong about greed.
When I was in Japan this summer, a huge scandal broke around the sport of sumo. Now, the origins of sumo are religious; the ring is considered holy ground, and those who participate in the sport, are supposed to be above reproach in everything they do. Some of them however, got greedy. They got involved with mafia middlemen, and began betting on baseball - heavily - and ran up huge debts. Greed overcame commitment to something which has elements of both religion and sport. Some of them got caught - and some didn’t. They did more, though - they let go the principles which had brought them to the sport, in favour of feathering nests for the future.
Jesus seems to be warning us against being greedy. But there is also something more here, much more than human greed. Something to do with the way we view life--and death. The heckler seemed to subscribe to the same belief as many today - that you only go around once in life. That the only life we have is the here and now.
We may or may not believe there is an afterlife, but what we think we do have is the here and now. Jesus says that ain’t necessarily so.
Paul says with this “Get it all now just in case” philosophy, we might as well be greedy; might as well cheat, might as well get even; because if all we have is this life, we sure can’t enjoy it after we’re dead.
I prefer a slightly different tack: I believe that there is another life beyond this one, but I want to live this life as if there isn’t. Because that, actually, if I am quite honest about it, puts me on the proverbial hot seat. Just in case there is no afterlife and no second chances, I need to do the best job with this life that I possibly can.
It’s a difficult conundrum. One could say that if we believe in an afterlife we need to be better in this one, in case we are judged in the next and found wanting; but the Christian hope tells us that we are forgiven no matter what we do, in God’s prevenient grace. But if we live as if there is no afterlife, then we really do have only this chance, right now, to make it worthwhile.
Jesus seems to be saying that. We can accumulate goods, make investments to cover us after we retire, enjoy a comfortable lifestyle, sit back and relax - and our very soul might be required while we are patting ourselves on the back for being wise and prudent.
The Good News of the Gospel reminds us that though we live in the world like everyone else, life is centred in our relationship with God. God alone can fill us with good things, that God's love is steadfast and sure.
That doesn’t mean we should not enjoy our lives - Jesus certainly had time to sit with friends and family, to enjoy a glass of wine on a summer’s day, to laugh and celebrate the very act of living. Of course we need to take moments to eat, drink, and be merry! That's what summers and families are about. But for Jesus it was not the end goal. He didn’t get to a certain point and say “that’s it, I’ve done my bit, someone else’s turn now.” Life - and faith - are continuing. If we have faith, we cannot stop living life, to its fullest and to the best of our ability, *because* we have faith. When it comes to how we view this world, and ourselves in it, perhaps we need to eat, drink, - and be wise-- for tomorrow we may die, but we may also live another day.
Sources:
How Much Is Enough? by Rev. Thomas N. Hall
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
“A Marriage Made in Heaven” a sermon based on Hosea preached at Knob Hill United Church July 25, 2010
You should have seen the babies! Just so beautiful, each one of them. Black curly hair, dark raisin eyes, dimpled cheeks, a sparkle in their eyes, and light in their laughter. Each baby had a different laugh. We had three children. Each time I carried the baby well...and easy births, all three. The mid-wives used to say I was just made for having babies, that it was too bad I only had three, that with the number of babies around dying, we could have had a family as big as Abraham's"
My name? I am Gomer. I have no idea what my father was thinking when he named me, but it was nothing compared to the names Hosea chose for our children. What was *he* thinking? Jezreel for our first born son, Lo-ruhamah for our only daughter, and Lo-ammi for our lastborn son.
The names won’t mean anything to you, but they mean a lot to my people, the Israelite people. It’s a mystery to me what was going on in his head; he got this religion thing, and kept on telling me that God had even told him who to marry. Well, the other girls couldn't believe it that day when Hosea walked into the place, took one look at me, and said "That's her!" "That's the one!" At first it was misunderstood; everyone just thought the woman he wanted in the brothel was me, as if we were just to treat him as a regular customer. Then he said he wanted to marry me!
"Oh yeah" I said to him. “They all say that when they want something, but then when it’s over, where am I? Back in my little hovel with a few coins in my hand...waiting for the next one.” Hosea was different. He talked to me gently. He said he meant it, that I would belong to him...be his woman...have his children, that I didn’t have to work as a prostitute any more. I could have a regular fire for cooking, and a regular tent for sleeping, and I would belong to his people.
Now I'll tell you what the names meant. Jezreel, the first one; his name is really about sowing seed...in the ordinary sense, but not in those days. In fact it was a really big threat. It has to do with how the Omrites got overcome in the valley of Jezreel, and how God meant that to be a message for the people of Israel. You should have seen how mean the kids were to Jezreel. He came home many a time beaten up because of his name.
Then the second one, our daughter. I begged for a nice plain name like Sarah, but he insisted. This one was called Lo-ruhamah. In our language it means "Unloved". I just didn't get it. How could we raise a daughter named “Unloved”? But Hosea explained that God meant to love the people of Israel no longer. The people of Judah would be favoured, but not our people. Why? I asked, what have they done?
Hosea replied that they had spent too much time going after other idols......they couldn't take a commitment to God through thick and thin. So Hosea named our daughter "No more love".
Then the third child came - another boy. Would you believe it? This name topped it all off. His name is Lo-ammi. It meant our people were gone, out of the sight of God. Cut off. Finished. In my language his name meant "You are not my people, and I am not your God".
But without God, we were a people in darkness. Hosea told me that it was all about his people and how they'd been unfaithful to God, how they'd take wool and flax, bread and water, and even raisin cakes, down to the idols. How they forgot who is the Creator of the Universe when it comes to our daily bread. How they danced and pranced before the idols and gave their silver and gold...just as if Ba’al and the other idols were God.
Well, the other people started to talk, and it got bad. They talked about how my children, now orphans they called them, were no better off than the children of Israel, since they'd gone running off after idols and forgetting their faith. My children were OK but the talk was awful. I left Hosea, taking the children with me; I couldn’t take the laughing and the jeering any more, but Hosea came after me again.
In our culture, there was a punishment for leaving a husband and going back to the old business; a woman would be put out in the desert with no cover, no food or water, just left to die. I had made it to the city again. That's where he found me. I was going back to my former business, to make some money to support my children, when he came looking for me again. He put out more money than I had seen at one time; fifteen silver shekels...and a bushel and a half of barley. That's the price of freeing one slave. And I was bought back. More than bought back. It was like he was courting me all over again. There was tender talk, fresh dates and figs. There was no talk of the past. He treated me as if I was going to be his new wife, and start all over again. I wasn't sure at first. Was this just more of the same? Was I going to be treated just like another example? Yes, and No, said Hosea.."You'd better explain" I said.
So he did explain. The tender love he was giving me was just like the tender love that God has for people....just so long as they don't go off worshipping idols. The covenant, it's called. The tender love he had for me was something he just enjoyed doing. He wanted me back as his own faithful wife. Well...he kept on loving me, and this time I stayed. I settled in to the family and started learning about his people. His people became my people.
Jezreel kept his name, but the land became good again, so Jezreel’s name was about the goodness that God sows in our hearts even when we stray. Lo-ruhamah..the one called "unloved"...became known as "the loved one". She's a beautiful girl....just about to have a child of her own. As for Lo-ammi..."no people of mine"...his is the best! "You are my people" says God. And Lo-ammi says"You are my God". And all comes right for us; but we have to watch the people, says my Hosea. They do like to go off on their own ways so easily. Some day, I told Hosea, some day there's going to be a great teacher in Israel. Someone so great, that he'll teach them of the great tender love of our God. But he may have to die to prove it.
My name? I am Gomer. I have no idea what my father was thinking when he named me, but it was nothing compared to the names Hosea chose for our children. What was *he* thinking? Jezreel for our first born son, Lo-ruhamah for our only daughter, and Lo-ammi for our lastborn son.
The names won’t mean anything to you, but they mean a lot to my people, the Israelite people. It’s a mystery to me what was going on in his head; he got this religion thing, and kept on telling me that God had even told him who to marry. Well, the other girls couldn't believe it that day when Hosea walked into the place, took one look at me, and said "That's her!" "That's the one!" At first it was misunderstood; everyone just thought the woman he wanted in the brothel was me, as if we were just to treat him as a regular customer. Then he said he wanted to marry me!
"Oh yeah" I said to him. “They all say that when they want something, but then when it’s over, where am I? Back in my little hovel with a few coins in my hand...waiting for the next one.” Hosea was different. He talked to me gently. He said he meant it, that I would belong to him...be his woman...have his children, that I didn’t have to work as a prostitute any more. I could have a regular fire for cooking, and a regular tent for sleeping, and I would belong to his people.
Now I'll tell you what the names meant. Jezreel, the first one; his name is really about sowing seed...in the ordinary sense, but not in those days. In fact it was a really big threat. It has to do with how the Omrites got overcome in the valley of Jezreel, and how God meant that to be a message for the people of Israel. You should have seen how mean the kids were to Jezreel. He came home many a time beaten up because of his name.
Then the second one, our daughter. I begged for a nice plain name like Sarah, but he insisted. This one was called Lo-ruhamah. In our language it means "Unloved". I just didn't get it. How could we raise a daughter named “Unloved”? But Hosea explained that God meant to love the people of Israel no longer. The people of Judah would be favoured, but not our people. Why? I asked, what have they done?
Hosea replied that they had spent too much time going after other idols......they couldn't take a commitment to God through thick and thin. So Hosea named our daughter "No more love".
Then the third child came - another boy. Would you believe it? This name topped it all off. His name is Lo-ammi. It meant our people were gone, out of the sight of God. Cut off. Finished. In my language his name meant "You are not my people, and I am not your God".
But without God, we were a people in darkness. Hosea told me that it was all about his people and how they'd been unfaithful to God, how they'd take wool and flax, bread and water, and even raisin cakes, down to the idols. How they forgot who is the Creator of the Universe when it comes to our daily bread. How they danced and pranced before the idols and gave their silver and gold...just as if Ba’al and the other idols were God.
Well, the other people started to talk, and it got bad. They talked about how my children, now orphans they called them, were no better off than the children of Israel, since they'd gone running off after idols and forgetting their faith. My children were OK but the talk was awful. I left Hosea, taking the children with me; I couldn’t take the laughing and the jeering any more, but Hosea came after me again.
In our culture, there was a punishment for leaving a husband and going back to the old business; a woman would be put out in the desert with no cover, no food or water, just left to die. I had made it to the city again. That's where he found me. I was going back to my former business, to make some money to support my children, when he came looking for me again. He put out more money than I had seen at one time; fifteen silver shekels...and a bushel and a half of barley. That's the price of freeing one slave. And I was bought back. More than bought back. It was like he was courting me all over again. There was tender talk, fresh dates and figs. There was no talk of the past. He treated me as if I was going to be his new wife, and start all over again. I wasn't sure at first. Was this just more of the same? Was I going to be treated just like another example? Yes, and No, said Hosea.."You'd better explain" I said.
So he did explain. The tender love he was giving me was just like the tender love that God has for people....just so long as they don't go off worshipping idols. The covenant, it's called. The tender love he had for me was something he just enjoyed doing. He wanted me back as his own faithful wife. Well...he kept on loving me, and this time I stayed. I settled in to the family and started learning about his people. His people became my people.
Jezreel kept his name, but the land became good again, so Jezreel’s name was about the goodness that God sows in our hearts even when we stray. Lo-ruhamah..the one called "unloved"...became known as "the loved one". She's a beautiful girl....just about to have a child of her own. As for Lo-ammi..."no people of mine"...his is the best! "You are my people" says God. And Lo-ammi says"You are my God". And all comes right for us; but we have to watch the people, says my Hosea. They do like to go off on their own ways so easily. Some day, I told Hosea, some day there's going to be a great teacher in Israel. Someone so great, that he'll teach them of the great tender love of our God. But he may have to die to prove it.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
“The Cost of Discipleship” based on 2 Kings 2, and Luke 9:57-62. Preached at Glen Ayr United Church, June 27, 2010
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
“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
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
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